This is an old piece done in 2006, slightly editted and modified.

 

Marie was at her school prom night, alone. Her friend had asked her to come, and said that she would be around to entertain each other. But now she was nowhere to be seen after a guy offered to dance with her.

 

'Why did I even consider coming here?' she asked herself foolishly. She didn't like the pink silk dress and bright makeup at all. They just didn't feel like her. SHe felt stupid standing at the corner with no one beside her. No one was even looking at her.

 

She felt as if she was a mutant, an alien that people didn't like to approach. No one really liked her--at least she thought so. She didn't know if anyone around here, besides her friend, even knew that she existed. She decide to grab some fruit punch to ease her feelings a little. But it wasn't helping at all. She sat the cup down, turned around and nearly bumped into someone standing so closely. She looked up.

It was Todd. He had blue eyes, brown eyes, and looked cute, especially in tonight's tuxedo, and he was taller than she thought. Suddenly she noticed she was looking deeply into his eyes, and he was doing the same. She shut her eyes and told herself to focus: it was reality, and in reality, people thought you were weird if you kept staring at them.

 

'Sorry... Didn't mean to knock into you,' she said. She looked away and began to walk off.

 

'It's okay, ' Todd replied with his gentle voice.

 

He held her arm. He was so gentle that it felt like there was a layer of tissue paper in between their skins. Well, that's just probably because he's wearing gloves, she thought. She turned to look at him, and spontaneously, her eyes found his. He grinned.

 

'Marie, right? Would you like to dance with me?' And he laid out his other hand.

 

For a moment, she was stunned. No one had even asked her for a dance at a prom night before, and she didn't know how to react. He asked so directly; and he was looking into her eyes with his mesmerizing blue eyes. He stepped towards her and made the distance between their eyes closer. Now that he was so near, he made her nervous. SHe finally twitched and said, 'Okay, yeah... Sure.'

 

The music switched from fast-beat to slow as she laid her hand on his, and he let go of her arm. Her heart sank a little because she actually liked the touch. She actually liked him, and she could feel that he liked her too. And they were still looking into each other's eyes.

 

He slipped his hand on her waist; she rested hre hand on his broad collar-bone area, not being able to reach his shoulder without straining. And they danced.

 

'I saw you standing alone there all night,' he said, now with a softer voice because the music wasn't deafeningly loud anymore.

 

'And you felt sorry for me so you just asked me to dance?' she shot.

 

'No, no. I just thought you should be enjoying yourself,' he replied smoothly. 'And I thought I might give you a start.'

 

She didn't say anything after that, partly speechless, mostly wowed. She had no idea he was such a gentleman.

 

'You look different tonight,' Todd said.

 

'And is that bad?' she shot again, spontaneously.

 

'Oh, no, ' he said hastily. 'It's just that this is my first time seeing you without the dark, heavy makeup,' he added. 'And i think you're pretty without it, even prettier in this dress.'

 

She wanted to shout out that silk and pink is not exactly her style, but thought twice and chose not to. You have to give a guy some space to breathe, she thought, especially one that treats you so well. And so she didn't say anything. The silence was awkward.

 

When Todd finally wanted to speak, the music turned to rock again, and this time, it was louder than ever. He knew Marie wouldn't be able to hear him, so he indicated her to go out. She didn't quite get what he was pointing at, so he held her hand and pulled her out of the crowd, and the prom.

 

Now that they were out, the sudden change from noisy to extremely quiet made the atmosphere of the silent night weird. He let go of her hand and they began walking together.

 

'Were you gonna tell me something?' Marie asked and broke the stillness.

 

'Huh? Oh. Er, no,' he said anxiously. He was surprised by the question. He then changed his mind and said, 'I mean, yeah.' And he didn't say anything else. He was obviously nervous.

 

'So?' she urged.

 

He took a deep breath and cut in front of her. She was a little startled.

 

'I wanted to tell you that I like you, and that everytime I see you alone, looking dull in front of your locker or anywhere else in school, it makes my heart sink. I always wanted to comfort you when you need it, but I never had the guts to do it.' There, he said it, all in one breath.

 

'Wow,' Marie said, looking astonished. She definitely melted, but she managed to hold herself together. 'And where did that guts come from?'

 

He was mouth-opened and didn't know how to answer. Marie just witnessed how a guy could change from cool and gentle to anxious and hesitative in such a short time. She couldn't help but laughed at the thought of it. Todd laughed too.

 

There was the uncomfortable quietness again when they finally stopped laughing. But this time, they caught each other's eyes. Marie bit her lips and saw Todd checking them out. Was he thinking what she was thinking?

 

The answer was clear when he lowered his head so that his lips were at the same level as hers. Marie's heart battered fast as she felt his breath and closed her eyes. She felt his lips pushed against hers.

 

It was so powerful. She didn't know a kiss could bring that much life. She held his face with her hands as the feeling grew stronger. Suddenly, she felt like she had known Todd for a very long time.

 

She saw him with his dog in her head... She saw him hanging out with his friends at the cinema... She saw him quarreling with his family... She saw the five-year-old him crying because someone destroyed his birthday cake... So many thoughts... So much memory... And it felt like the memory were hers... Was this the effect of the kiss?

 

Something wasn't right. Besides the memory, she felt so much differences--so much passion towards football and music... So much spirit, so much energy--so much vitality... Too much vitality!

 

She opened her eyes in shock and confusion to see Todd pushing her away from him. His hands were purple; his face was black! His eyes were full of veins, his neck bulging with them, and his lips were cold. He was dying!

 

She let go of her hands on his face and backed away. He collapsed on the floor immediately. Marie screamed but quickly held him in her arms and cried his name. She slapped him on his face. No reaction.

 

She herself was not doing so well either. As she shook him and tried to bring him back to life, faces kept striking in her mind. She didn't know who they were, but a part of her could recognize them. The faces somehow seemed familiar.

 

'I finally found someone that likes me. Why does this have to happen? Can't I just fall in love and kiss for once?' There were lots of questions in her head. And there were another side of her asking a whole different set of questions--questions that she wouldn't ask. 'Why can't Dad be more understanding? Why don't I get selected as the team captain? Why can't I get the Mozart piece right?'

 

Todd didn't budge however hard she called. His situation looked ugly. He was lifeless, almost as if someone drained his life out of him. Tears were building up in Marie's eyes. No, don't tell me I killed him.

 

She was having headache. She felt like she was having a whole new set of personality inside of her--like everything about Todd had gotten into her. Did I drain his life into myself? Marie asked herself in horror; so many images of unfamiliar events were passing her mind; so many voices, including Todd's, were ringing in her head. She couldn't think straight. The more she thought, the worse her head pounded.

 

She pressed her hands hard on her temples, trying desperately to numb the pain. She couldn't care about Todd anymore. She was having breathing difficulties. What's happening to me? She questioned herself. Her head hurt so much it felt like it would burst any moment. Tears rolled down her cheek and smudged her mascara. Pain pierced right into her brain. She was breathing fast, unevenly and heavily now.

 

She was going to crack. She stood up imbalancedly and started to run. She needed to go somewhere, but she didn't know where. She couldn't stand the pain anymore. She was going to get help. She saw someone in front of her, but she couldn't focus. Instead, the image was getting blur. And she fainted.

 

***

 

She woke up in a ward bed. It was her second day in the hospital. Her friend was beside her. She had finally come to visit. She smiled at Marie and wanted to hold her.

 

"Don't touch me!' Marie snapped and jerked her hand to her chest. She thought of Todd. He was lying somewhere in the hospital too, and he was alright. Conscious now, very weak, but he was alright.

 

It was me, she convinced herself. No one else could've done that. She still had the images from Todd, but it was fainter now. She touched her hand, and remembered the words of the bald stranger who came to visit yesterday, his words playing in her mind, 'You are a mutant with a great gift. But you must be careful, for your touch drains a person's energy, memory, and--if held too long--life.'

 

Her touch is deadly. She is meant to never be touched. She is Rogue.

 

[This is just a self-made, unofficial X-Men story; don't sue me for using the character Rogue.]

'This feels really...' Sandy whispered with her eyes closed, feeling the cool breeze brushing her face, making her blonde hair fly. '...Nice.' Of all words, she picked that one. She'd somehow lost her SAT words sitting next to him--and she didn't even know him, not even his name. She turned to ask him that, but she paused the moment she saw the position he was in.

 

He had already lain down on his back, with his arms stretched and bent over his head, and his head lying on his hands. Sandy thought he seemed carefree, so insouciant, unlike anyone in her daily life--unlike Hunter. To come to think about it, she was so out of herself. In normal circumstances, she wouldn't even be talking to a guy like him--not that she'd avoid him, it's just that they were worlds apart: she was the high achiever, the goody-goody; he was just a geek. But in normal circumstances, Hunter wouldn't fight with her either. So in this abnormal circumstance, he'd come for her rescue.

 

Okay, fine, so maybe he didn't, she thought. She was the one that started all that: she had been on the verge of breaking down, and he had been doing his part-time job getting a car towed to his dad's mechanic shop. She wasn't going to cry in public, and she'd wanted to do it in her car. Then she'd remembered: Hunter drove her to the diner. The parking lot had been empty except for Hunter's car, and a few other cars, which for sure were locked. There had been no place to hide, and then the noise of the tow truck's engines being started had caught her attention. She'd decided to just hop into the passenger seat, ignoring the grease stains for once.

 

'Just leave me alone and drive,' she'd said the moment she slammed the door. Then she'd folded up her legs with her skirt slipped in the fold between her thighs and her calves, and sunk her face between her chest and her knees, and wrapped her arms around her face. She didn't want him to see her cry.

 

And he'd driven, without saying anything. She wasn't sure if he'd even looked when she'd got into the truck, and she couldn't care more. She had been too busy crying. And after a long while of driving--longer than it would normally take to go to the mechanic's from the diner--he still hadn't said anything. She couldn't take it anymore.

 

She'd looked up. 'Aren't you gonna say some--'

 

'Are you okay now?' he'd simply said, without even taking a glimpse at her. She had just stared at him.

 

'Are you okay now?' he had repeated.

 

'No!' she had cried and stuck her head back between her arms and knees. And not long after that, they had arrived at where they were now, a beautiful cliff with an open ground and breezy air. He'd turned off the engine and sat on the ground hugging his knees.

 

At first she didn't want to get off the truck, but it seemed like he was going to sit there for a long time, and she had wanted to go home.  So she'd gotten down, intending to tell him her wish. But the moment she'd set foot on the ground, her question had been swept away by the cooling wind. Instead, she'd sat down beside him with her legs splayed out. Then she'd leaned backwards, supported her torso with her arms, welcoming the wind to her face, and talked to him sporadically.

 

Now she was looking at him; how his wild curls were twined in a tousle and how a strand was covering his eye. How his overworn shirt outlined his slim but muscled body. How his face actually looked different ,and good, unlike the times she'd seen him in school by chance and never talked to him. She watched the rise and fall of his chest while he breathed.

 

Is he asleep? she told herself. Without second thoughts, she reached out her hand to touch him, not caring about the dirt and grease marks on his shirt.

 

'Hey, watch it,' he suddenly said, making her retrieve her hand in surprise before she even touched him. Holding her hand at her chest, she smiled in spite of herself. She felt that her face was getting hot. She stole a glaze at him, and felt relieved that his eyes were still closed.

 

'So, are you okay now?' he said, slowly opening his eyes.

 

'Can you stop asking that?' Sitting up, she said firmly, though she was secretly happy that he cared. 'I'm fine, by the way.'

 

'Oh. Sorry. And great.' And he sat up without the use of his arms, and she could vaguely make out his abdominal muscles contracting. 'I should probably get back to work. C'mon, let's go home.'

 

Her heart sank when she heard that. 'I don't need your lift. I can walk home.'

 

He sighed. 'Yeah, like you know this place at all.' He got up and walked back to his truck.

 

He was right. She couldn't walk home. She didn't even know how she got here. She lived in this town since she was born, but she never knew a place like this existed.

 

When he noticed she didn't move, he turned back. 'Clearly, you're not fine.' And he began to scuffle to her.

 

'Wait,' she said. 'I'm okay. Let's get home.'

 

In the truck, the both of them were silent after he asked for her address and she told him. She was conscious of the grease stains again, and was trying to have as little contact with her seat as possible without looking weird and awkward. He was just driving, and occasionally combing away the strand of hair that always flopped back down.

 

She figured she should say something to him even though she was a little distressed by the fact that he'd asked her if she was okay just so that he could get back to work soon. It's not like I'm somebody to him, anyway, she thought.

 

'Thanks,' she said. He raised his eyebrows, and had a quick look at her before looking back at the road. 'For making me feel better.' Even though you did that just so you can get back to work, she added silently.

 

'Yeah,' he simply grunted. 'It's getting a little late. That's why I wanted to get you home,' he then said, as if he read her mind. 'My job is whatever. I mean, it's okay for me to slack for a day. But your parents might be worried about you.'

 

'Why do you say that?' She asked, looking at him, who was tanned by the colour of the sky.

 

'Well, you don't look like you stay out late a lot.'

 

She smiled. But in spite of that, she said, 'You don't know me.' She watched him drive. He tucked the stubborn strand of hair away from his face again. He blinked, and she was captivated by his lashes, which was long; the top and bottom lashes curved away from each other, as if to widen his slumberous eyes.

 

He didn't say anything to her last line. She looked out the window at the sky. The orange colour was added with bold strokes of red. She had no idea how long they had been at the cliff, and she didn't bother to check her phone for the time. 'Sunset looks lovely.'

 

'Huh?' he replied.

 

'Sunset looks lovely, with all the streaks of colours. But it lasts so short. The colours shed faster than you think they do.'

 

He grunted something in agreement.

 

'I like red the most, out of the many colours of sunset. It's so bright, so striking. And it's so warm.' Sha paused. Then, before she knew it, 'It reminds me of Hunter,' she blurted out. She gasped. 'Sorry.' She looked down at her hands, which were resting together on her lap. She realised she wasn't avoiding contact with the grease stains on the seat anymore.  

 

He didn't say anything to her apology. They had a left turn, during which she looked ahead the street. Blue began to stain the sky. 'What colour do you like the most?' she suddenly asked, turning so quickly to look at him that she flung her hair.

 

'Er, I don't know.'

 

'Oh c'mon, there must be a colour that you like.'

 

He looked awkward. 'Erm, I've never thought about it. I don't really care. But, it's, erm, red...I guess...if you want me to pick one.'

 

'Oh,' she said, slightly enthused. 'Why?' She was expecting the reason to be related to her choice in the colour she liked. But he didn't answer.

 

'Here's it. You're home,' he said, turning to her. He puckered his lips into thin line and smiled. He looked so cute.

 

'Oh. Thanks, again, for everything.' She turned and opened the truck door, then paused, holding the door and not pushing it wide open. She looked back at him. His eyes caught hers, and he didn't shy away. 'Why do you like red?' She asked, anticipating the answer, and beyond...

 

'I'm colourblind. Red's the only colour I can see.' And he blinked and looked away.

 

 

I was surprised when I found out that I am one of the people in my class that got the highest mark for the free essay section. This is written in panic:

 

The future is what a lot of people want to find out. And smarter people who realise this point have created various ways to cater to these people's need. There is fortune-telling, palm-reading, tarot card-reading, tea leaves-reading, necromancy and many more. Some people say some of the methods are more accurate, but who really knows?

 

Fortune-telling. This is the method I think is most inaccurate, all just because it is widely used, or to be precise, abused. It might have been a really accurate way of predicting the future, but so many can say so many different things about the same face. Sometimes when someone being fortune-told move their features a little bit, like frowning a little, or slightl pursing their lips, and a whole different story comes out of the fortune-teller's mouth. And there are these conmen, who always say good things about a person to the fortune-told people, because, well, they want to con them. And the existance of these conmen has made all the other methods of future-predicting untrustworthy.

 

Actually, how much do we know about our future? You can say the future is vague and clear at the same time. Clear, because you know what will happen tomorrow, or the next day; vague, because you do not really know the precise events. For example, what I know today about tomorrow is that I have a tuition class tomorrow. I even now I will be learning about the principles of account. But what the teacher is going to say, or whether he will start a new chapter, or do revision, I do not know. This part, I am predicting, with the words the teacher said last week as clues. 

 

Necromancy is the way of predicting the future through a ghost. A necromancer would be possessed temporarily by a ghost to tell the future of another person. But how does the ghost know about the person's future, when it does not even have a future? I am just saying that according to what the people in the movies say, 'If you run away now, you'll have a future; you can come back for me later. But if you are killed now, there would be no future for the both of us.' How much of the line is true actually? The future is something that would happen to an entity, and if ghosts exist, why wouldn't ghosts have futures?

 

Scientists say if you travel faster than light, you will enter another dimension of time and space, either the past or the future. And the way to do it is to get sucked into a black hole. But there is a contradiction: scientists also say that a black hole is a 'hollow' so 'fast' that nothing can enter it, not even light. But the matter that are close enough to it would get sucked into it and become nothingness. Some say their bonds are all destroyed and they have become their original particle forms; some say they enter another time and space. A year back, it was reported that a person from the future has travelled to the past to undo an event using a mini black hole. Then he 'stopped by' last year to spill a little beans to us. He claimed to be from 2041, take or give a little, and that if the event that he had undone wasn't undone, there would be no future for him. But here is a question: isn't he from the future already? Oh, and he said he has 'stopped by' the year when he was a toddler. He said he saw his baby self. But here is a question again: how can there be two him?

 

There is this little unsolveable story that I know. If you travelled back to murder your grandfather before he even met your grandmother, would the future him still be in the future? Would your father be there? More importantly, would you? If you wouldn't, do you immediately disappear right when your grandfather lose his last breath; or would you disappear after you time-travelled back to the future?

 

The future is predictable, and unpredictable at the same time. I think the best way to know about it is to live until it arrives.

 

[Teacher's remark: A strong conviction shown in ideas expressed (yet questionable!). Good use of vocabulary, and well structured sentences.]

This is a story I wrote as my mid-term examination essay last year. Despite some unsmoothness of sentences and maybe a little grammatical mistakes, I think it's pretty good, juvenilely (well, it earned me some good marks), and it's actually my first successful attempt in writing a love story. With little parts editted, here goes:

 

My heart was beating fast as I approached the door. What if she was not what I expected? What if she had changed so much that I cannot recognise her? What if I fall for her again?

 

This is supposed to be an old-friend reunion, I told myself. I started thinking of the olden days...

 

She was a new student in school. She had to switch to this school because her father was bringing the family here. I never knew what was her father's occupation because she never told and I never asked. But my guess is her father moved here due to his job.

 

Coming back to topic, she was a new student in school and she was all pretty, smart and funny-- the girl that every guy in school wanted. But I did not notice her 'existance' until she approached me one day. She said the usual 'hi, nice to meet you,' and offered the common handshake that you do when you want to know someone new. That was the first time I saw her so mear, and like what my friends said, she was pretty. Long hair with natural curls, big brown eyes surrounded by long, curved eyelashes, fine nose, thin lips, ans perfect teeth-- but somehow I was not attracted to her-- at least not her appearance. I began to think about her only after a couple of chitchat and hangouts. She was a nice person, sweet and polite, and I could tell that she liked me. So slowly, our relationship developed into more than just friends. And here came the heart-shattering part: after just one semester, she was moving again. Her father was bringing the family to somewhere else-- somewhere far. And she ended the relationship. Her reason was she thought a long-distance relationship would be hard for the both of us, and she thought I could find a better person. But, no, I did not. I was 'single and avaible' for a whole year.

 

Now she was back. It was holiday and she decided to come back, to see me. I stumbled in front of the restaurant door, took a deep breath, and entered. She said she would be obvious, because she was wearing orange. And she was the only 'orange' one in the restaurant.

 

I sat down and she was a little startled. But I could see a little exhilaration on her face, and I knew why: I came alone-- so she still liked me. I ordered a drink and after that, there was an awkward silence. We were looking into each other's eyes and just that. It was happening again-- her eyes were hypnotising me. I pulled away from her gaze and started to ask questions. She answered me and asked me, and vice versa. We both could tell the awkwardness of this.

 

Then she asked 'the' question: 'Are you single? No girlfriends around?' And I told her 'yes'. She was obviously getting excited. I was not going to and did not need to ask her back. She just could not help but spilled the truth out: she was single too. I was not going to let her start the 'let's be together again' conversation.

 

'Look,' I said. 'You know you are always on the run, and I'm always going to be here. You can't just be with me for a period of time and leave, then come back and do it all over again-- it's just not what a relationship

should be. Let's stay friends.'

 

Her smile wa fading, but she managed to pull it up again. 'Yeah, friends...' she said. I knew she was heart-broken, so was I. I fell for her again, but I needed to stay focus. And I did. I liked her, but not her way of living. I just could not accept a person who always 'runs away'.

 

People have to grow up, and I am sure I will. I will not forget her, but I will not be her 'toy' either. I am sure I will find someone else in my life.

 

[Teacher's remark: An interesting story with some effective personal insights.]

I've made up my mind after a few days of testing and using and observing a new site for blogs (xanga) recommended by my friend. I find the site quite a linient website, and the tools are simple enough to use. I like the way things are arranged, the color scheme I spent quite some time matching, and the atmosphere it brings. And I've decided to keep it.

So what am I going to do about this? Right, I've thought about that and I am keeping this one too, and make it a blog of a theme. Since this has a book list going on already, I've decided to make this site my blog for my silly little short stories. I've always been writing short stories (inconsistently, i mgiht add), and I think this site would be the perfect place for me to post them up. But I think I won't be updating it as soon as I've been doing, since, as I've said, all I post up here is just short stories of irregular lengths, and I need time and effort and moe importantly inspirations to write them.

The new site will function as this site used to, and so it'll be accessed more. Stay tuned over there for more, if anyone cares at all. The address is: www.xanga.com/kingofblur; nice and simple, though I personally think this is nicer and simpler. 

Something funny about today's experiment during Biology class: I think my fish is one of the only two surviving experiment specimens.

We were supposed to do two experiments today, namely observing the blood circulation of the tail of a fish and observing two animals' heart (chicken and fish). But we hadn't enough time, since my classmates are 37 wild amateurs (though we are in Form 5 already) when it comes to experiments, so we only did one. Well, should I say, one and a half? We watched the blood vessels, then dissected the fish to watch the heart. I don't know about other teams, but actually my team dissected and watched the chicken heart too.

This time, the Duck was not in my team, and I proved to myself that I don't need him to have successful results for experiments. I was the 'artist' for my team, to draw all the diagrams and then label them. I've finished them, and tomorrow I need to bring it to school for the rest of the team-- and maybe the whole class too-- to copy.

Coming back about the experiment, my team's fish, which, acording to "Everyone's Favourite Blogger', is Jessica Simpson, was actually the biggest fish in the class, and my team actually had problem immobilising it. The teacher put in the biggest piece of chloroform for us and still it took sometime to work. At one point, one of my teammates even got so pissed off that he straight away grabbed Jess out of its container and put it under the microscope. And the good result I got was actually from that wild attempt. Well, sometimes, the dumbest idiot can do something right.

Because of the strong-willed Jess's refusal to be anesthetised, we didn't have enough time to dissect it to watch its heart pump (I think my team was the last to get a result for observing the fish tail). But while we were waiting for it to be tranquilised, we dissected the chicken heart. It was the violently impatient guy who did it, and while he later did something right, he did something wrong before. The chicken heart, after his 'brilliant' dissection, didn't even look like a heart. I could hardly identify the parts, but the 'smart-ical' me still managed (notice that I'm smart enough to use smart-ical). I digressed. Coming back to what I was saying, we didn't have time to dissect Jess, and the teammate that bought the fish looked like he didn't want us to dissect it also I think. So we ended watching other teams dissect their fishes. Thanks to the 'oh-so-sharp' scalpels, the skin of the fishes won't even split when the scalpels were pressed so hard against it. The classmates doing the operation looked like psycho animal killer trying desperately  to kill the invincible fishes with the bluntest of tools. One of them got so impatient that he decided to abandon the scalpel and just tear the fish apart. Yucks, all the yummy juices being exposed, staining his cruel hands of which fingers looked like claws of a devil just finished killing the most innocent of people. Many classmates were surrounding him while he was doing the dirty job, some wanting and longing to help and do it along, and others just to watch the fascinating scene (I was one of them). Then he half-cut-half-pulled out the guts and I didn't see the heart anywhere, just red appetising-looking juices and dark-red pieces of organs.

Meanwhile, the Duck was performing another similar operation which then had good results. It was actually pregnant, with large amount of eggs in its tiny body. No wonder fish's guts are so small-- to leave space for eggs when it gets pregnant. But that not the point.

I was surprised by the size of the fish's (was it Winkie?) heart. It was still pumping dyingly weak. It's a miracle that fishes can survive with such small hearts (kecil hati betul...). According to my elder brother, fish has only one circulation, that is: the heart pumps, the blood flows to the gills and get oxegenated, then flows to all parts of the body right away before going back to heart for the circulation cycle to be repeated again. Cool!

And one more funny thing: My mom decided to cook fish today. *raise eyebrow* After a long day of tormenting fishes and watching others killing them by splitting it up in the middle from the bottom, I had to have fish for lunch and dinner? Luckily I'm not one of those who had never seen fishes being slaughtered alive, or else, I'd be so traumatic that I might build a grave for the dead fishes and mourn for them and swear to never eat fish again. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now that school has started, I would seldom blog...

 

3 days of school are over now, and I finally get to use the computer long enough for me to write a post. These 3 days of school-- I wouldn't call it a week, because it's not?-- sucked. Or should I say, I sucked in these 3 days of school? This is the most unprepared-for-school year for me. I could still remember daydreaming and thinking, 'the holidays were like a very loooong weekend, and it ended already, faster than I thought, and it's "Monday" again,' on Wednesday; until today, I still haven't the whole set of textbooks (and the bookshops are running out of stock), and I hardly prepared enough single-lined exercise books and any small-squared ones at all; I was reluctant to listen to what teachers had to say on the first day, and to start any work (school- and homework) on the second day. But the good thing is, I am starting to focus already on the third day. That is the shortest time I took to re-focus myself into school after holidays. I used to take around a couple of weeks to concentrate again at school for the past years, the last week of the holidays and the first week of school.

 

This year, I'd try to organise myself and my time and schoolwork-- that is another resolution. I would try to pay FULL attention in class, finish my homework on time, study ahead of lessons, fulfil the duties for all the postions I hold for my co-curricular, and be active in sports. I seriously need the full attendance for ALL of my clubs, especially the Badminton Club, because I hadn't really been active in it for the past four years. Good news: the President of the club is a good friend of mine, which means, I can get some advantages out of him (somehow). The headmistress gave every student the school's diary this year, which makes organising myself and my time and my clubs much more easier. When I want to set a date for something, I can just refer to the paper to check if the school has any activities on that day. Oh, this year, I think I want to give Cross Country a try, as in really run and race to get SOME prize. But I heard this year we need to 'climb' too. I just hope it won't be too hard.

 

This year so far is okay-- though school sucked a little-- but I'm sure as it passes, rapidly reaching year end before you and I know it, it would be very stressful. After all, this is 'the key year' of my education and my future and basically my life. I do bad, I die; I do good, a bright, clear future is not guaranteed, but at least I'd have some hopes. Equation: key year equals to killer year.

 

But last year was good. 2006 was a year of joy and enjoyment and breakthroughs and achievements. I don't know about others, but I achieved quite a number of things, and fame (despite a little notoreity). I think more teachers and even students know me now than at the begginning of last year. To list out some, I made a book (despite it has a Big flaw, and my studies deteriorated), I sang in public, I stripped in public, I mustered courage to fix my teeth, I proved to myself that I'm not bad of a leader, I knew and bonded with a bunch of insanely optimistic and ever-laughing friends, and I got busted for breaking a huge school law (fortunately, no record was made). Whoops, the last one is NOT an achievement.

 

I made a book. That is defnitely the biggest accomplishment. I sacrificed my time, my 'brain juice', partial of my relationship with my friends and classmates, my commitment to my clubs, and even my studies just for the Editorial Board. Sacrificing my creativity, my social life, and the others is still okay (maybe sacrificing studies is not so okay?), but my time, that was the most precious thing. I definitely sacrificed almost my whole year for the book. Not only did I spent parts of my lessons in class (which is nothing to be proud of and everything to not be followed), but also my free time and sleep time even for weekends, let alone weekdays, just to complete it. See how commited I was. Turned out: the La Sallian 2006 Magazine is the most fabulous La Sallian magazine of all time! Phew! It was a massive relief!

 

I sang in public, I stripped in public, I mustered courage to fix my teeth, I proved to myself that I'm not bad of a leader. These are all overcomes of fears. I always have stage fright and I shake when I make a speech to a crowd, let alone singing. But I still did it. It wasn't the best performance by me, but it was okay. Speaking/singing in public/to a crowd is not so bad after all. I will still shiver when I do these in public with everyone looking at me, but at least now I can be conscious and clear of what I'm doing, unlike last times, where I'd have no idea what I was babling and just said whatever that crossed my mind. Now my dream of hosting and being a TV personailty has hope. As for the last part of the statement, at the starting of this paragraph, it is pretty much the same thing: overcoming stage fright. I had to do a presentation for EST and I was the head of my group, and I led my team members well. My stage fright was so high that I was afraid to even speak up and speak out my points to my team members. But I forced myself to do it. People elected me as the head, and I must do my best for them. And it turned out that my team's presentation was one of the couple of presentations that scored the highest. Good for me. Now my dream of hosting and being a TV personality is really having hope.

 

Now the last part. I knew and bonded with a bunch of insanely optimistic and ever-laughing friends. Although I spent most time in making the school magazine, I had tiny bits of time to mingle with my classmates and friends, especially the newbies of the class. The people I mainly bonded with are (notice that this is one of the few times I mention names): William Soh Yew Chong, Adrian Choo Teck Aun, Luvain, Marcus Tay Tze Liang, Koh Keik Wee, and of course Lim Kok Hooi (ever since Form 1). The other people that I got along with are: Ainsley Ng, Calvin Teh, Chew, Eric, Jake and et cetera (sorry if your name is not listed, because I'm forgetful. I can only think of certain things when I come across them or things related to them). These people are great people, and they have different 'functions':

 

William Soh: I call him Soh. I'm trying to change to William, but it somehow sounds weird and I always revert back to Soh. He is basically 'shameless' on the outside. He does all sorts of exaggerated actions and gestures without caring if people are staring. He is more imaginative than I am, and he dares to release it, unlike me, who keeps most of it hidden because people wouldn't understand and think I'm weird when I tell them my imaginations. He is one of the important factors of my overcome of fears.

 

Adrian Choo: I call him Choo. He doesn't mind, I think. His English is brilliant. We share some same interests. We read, we write (sometimes), we want to improve our English, we have these impossible dreams and non-existant plans, and we like to gossip. We like to watch and listen and observe people and pick at their mistakes or actions then laugh among ourselves. Talking to him can sometimes seem, um, different, because he always suddenly uses words that I don't know or that I wouldn't expect anyone but the weird me to use. It's actually a good thing to get to hear those words and not just speak them-- and then usually be asked 'what's the meaning?' because not many people would know or use those words-- because the impression of the words would be deeper when heard.

 

Luvain: He is the one that I converse least compared to the above two. As far as I know him, we have a similar past: the both of us sucked in English and only improved after buckling up. What a coincidence, and how ironic: he's from a national school (sekolah kebangsaan) while me a chinese school. I guess he understands how much hardwork we needed to put in to achieve what we have now, which is just passable oral English and acceptable for written. 

 

Kok Hooi: He is basically the one who brought me to all these things about positions and power, school politics, and the importance of having perspectives and viewpoints and leadership. If it wasn't for him, I think today I'd be one of those people that only know about studies and nothing else, and lack and suck at co-curricular and social skills. I'm not saying that I'm an expert at those now, but at least I have some skills. Of course, not all parts of my achievements today depended on him, but if I hadn't tag along him here and there during the years when I was in lower secondary and was totally innocent and naive, I wouldn't what I have today. I should say 'thank you', but at this point, verbal gratitude is not enough as repayment.

 

I choose to only list the 'functions' of four people, but that doesn't mean the others are just plain acquaintances that brings no influence to me. It's just that the effects they bring onto me are hard to explain. But they have their effects; they do spread their auras.

 

Of course, there were downsides also last year, but compared to the ups, the latter wins. The unfortunate events are no match to the good things that happened. Maybe I am just being optimistic? No, I'm not, because I could think of so many good things that happened but only a few bad things. So the year is concluded as a good year. Then again, the judgement is just according to me. I don't know how your year had been. How had been? Do you remember?

'Yeah! New Year is coming!' Not my kind of cheer. In fact, I don't cheer for new years. I sigh, instead. New Year equals to 'school is starting soon' and 'I am nearer to The Year of Torment'. SPM is going to be at the end of the year (so fast?!), and I've done nothing regarding it. Well, maybe not exactly nothing, but not much anyway (I've only read one of the three literature books). I haven't even finish the last chapters of the fourth-form sciences syllables.

 

Why is holidays starting so late but ending so early nowadays? School is going to start on the 3rd of January (so soon?!). Hate it, loathe it, resent it, detest it. But I don't have much things to do besides school. No, I have a lot of things to do aside from school, but it's just that school is the top priority since it's a neccesity. If I needn't go to school, I would have so much time to do whatever I want. But problem: if I didn't attend school, I wouldn't have any skill at all to do the stuff that I can do now. And if I can do nothing, I wouldn't even have any interests or hobbies. Right, so school is good, it's just that everyone hates it, just like healthy food; healthy food is good for our body, but no one-- okay, maybe a few ones-- likes to eat it. Conclusion: good things are mostly hated.

 

New Year is near, and I guess I should do what everyone-- maybe not everyone, but most people anyway-- is doing, which is: New Year resolutions. What do I have in mind? Be a better person,  maybe? Right. Let's try listing the resolutions:

 

1. Be hardworking, be industrious; no more lazing around (because SPM is 11 months away!).

2. Be bold, be brave, be spontaneous, be decisive.

3. Be active, be optismistic, be outgoing, be talkative; express myself.

4. Do not fantasize. No more 'what if's'. Break free from my fears.

5. Sharpen my skills, if I have any at all.

6. Work harder to grow taller.

7. Find my calling. Decide my future.

8. Quit being a worry wart that worries about everything.

9. Try out new things.

10. Get a life. Live it to the max!

 

I should start worrying about what I should do after SPM now, and which course I should take for my tertiary education. How come there aren't those counselors that help you choose your course in Malaysian schools? If there are, everything would be much simpler. I wouldn't have to spin between Language and Mass Com. and Architecture and etc. until I get giddy. I really hate to have to make these choices just to realise that I made the wrong one after a couple of months studying the course.

 

Okay, there is officially nothing good about New Year. To add salt to the wound, people get old every New Year. Right, I repeat: there is officially nothing good about New Year. Period.

 

I was supposed to wake up earlier (which is at 8) than I normally do in the holidays (which is usually after 12) to restock joysticks and buy some breakfast for ourselves with my elder brother driving, but there I went again: unable to pull myself up until it’s 12 already. So I had to make breakfast, or rather lunch—or really, brunch: Milo with wheat biscuits. It was lame, I know, but according to my younger brother, the biscuits had been kept for quite sometime and it’s time to finish them up. And I turned out to be the one finishing most of the biscuits. Elder brother had already finished his Milo before I knew it; younger brother didn’t really eat much.

I thought there would be plenty of shows to watch on TV since it’s Christmas Eve, but no, it turned out to be just like normal days. Just like every year, I am not really hoping much presents from and for my friends, especially since this year there’s not even any party to attend, but I think I’d be getting quite a number of presents (should be mostly clothes) from my parents as New Year and belated Christmas gifts when they come back from Europe. Oh, a friend of mine has just sent me a message inviting me to her birthday party on the 1^st of January, so I guess I have something else to worry about other than not having any school books on hands yet and how I am to catch up with my studies next year, that is, of course, a decent birthday present. I am running out of good-conditioned disposable items now, so looks like I’ll have to shop for one soon. But I still have to hold up the ‘stick together’ rule, so how am I to go shopping? Wait, I haven’t ask permission from my chauffeuring brother and my soon-would-be-home parents to attend it yet, so why am I so worried about shopping for presents already? Maybe of what they’d normally say which is a simple ‘yes’, they’d say ‘no’ this time, just out of the blue. After all, I didn’t allow my sister to attend a party, so maybe I’d get forbidden this time, though the circumstance has big and obvious differences (the day of my party, my parents would be at home; the day of my sister’s party, my parents are not. I know the rules and circulations, the limits; my sister doesn’t. I do chores; my sister does too, but only when she get threatened or wants something.).

I’m officially not upset about yesterday’s incident anymore now, but my sister won’t be getting her small celebration with her brothers anymore—not with me, at least.

I suddenly feel like I am magnifying every single flaw of my siblings and problem in my family. Maybe I am. I should change to be more considerate, and tolerable, and accepting and forgiving. I should treat my family like a treat my friends, only that my family are much more stubborn that my friends, and I’d be considered involved if they get into trouble. I am being indecisive again, my angel fighting with my devil.

4:40 pm

 

*****

*written on the 25^th of December 2006*

It is Christmas night now, and I’m watching TV alone. MY elder brother is out again, at Jaya Jusco to watch some choir or performances by people from some church. My younger siblings are playing computer games, still as active as when the Internet connection worked. Either their games are as fun when single-played as it is when multi-played, or they are really optimistic. Or maybe both. But not me. Most of my affairs with the computer require Internet connection, like chatting, blogging, song-downloading, and sometimes some Java games from websites.

Christmas is boring this year, or maybe every year, especially when no parents are at home to plan anything at all. No shopping, no exclusive dinners, even no presents. And this year, the programs on TV seem especially boring. Not much specials or exclusives, except for the usual Disney Channel (well, it’s a kids’ channel, not that I mind watching it). 8TV had a number of shows delayed, if I am not mistaken, mostly for 1 hour, which brought down the impression it had on me. If the people working there are smart, they’d put up better shows with better timing, or it’ll go down. I don’t know how exactly, but eventually it would if it doesn’t keep up the good job it had been doing.

There’s no Christmas party to attend, and even if there is, I wouldn’t be attending any of them, since my parents are not at home until Sunday. Hopefully they bring back enough gifts for New Year, since they’ve already missed Christmas. I suddenly want more new clothes, though I find the thought a little ridiculous, because it’s not like I go out everyday or something, so what’s the point wanting more clothes? Call me weird.

Christmas is officially over for 1 hour now, and I—everyone, I should say—should buckle up for the New Year now. It’s almost time for new hopes, new wishes, new resolutions, but I haven’t got things organized in my whimsical and capricious mind. I haven’t got ready for it even on the outside. I haven’t packed up my old books (I haven’t finished the ending chapters!) and bought my new school books yet. I don’t need new uniforms, since the Short and Slow-growing me can still fit into the old ones. Darn it. Oh wait, there’s one New Year wish already: I wish I grow taller and cuter and more masculine and handsome. Call me superficial, but looks are as important as intellect—it is, to me, at least. I think I better get all my hopes and wishes organized, so that I’d know specifically what I want next year.

1:10 am