The Return

Back to this place, eh? Well, why not? I don't know in what capacity, though, let me figure that out first.

Temptation

Oh, geez. Oh, geez, oh crapola. Seriously, Google, you're tempting me so hard to come back full-time to this place. The new Blogger Dashboard...it's BEAUTIFUL!

Blogger go bye bye?

Ok, so Blogger itself won't go away, merely re-branded. Still, I can't help but think it's the end of an era. I was thinking, perhaps I should use this place again. We'll see. In the meantime, I don't know when Blogger will become Google Blogs, but...thank you Blogger. You served me well for 3 years. Complimented Friendster and MySpace well. SALUTE!

It's time

TL;DR personal post. It’ll be nice if you’d still read it. :)

6 years ago, I was an utter wreck. I was at rock bottom. I didn’t even need to touch drugs and alcohol to get there, my mind did fine to mess with me all by itself.

Kicked out of school because I couldn’t be bothered anymore. I didn’t even fight it, I just sat there and…let the inevitable failure happened.

It was the worst I’ve ever felt. Because I felt nothing.
I got the letter saying I was out of poly. Felt nothing.
My mom and dad went apocalyptic when they found out. I felt nothing.

They made me swear never to tell anyone that I flunked out, not even my sister. Meh. I agreed. Felt nothing

(She still doesn’t know)

A full year went by, as I either sat at home, getting fat, or did some odd jobs, getting money for a future I was certain wasn’t happening.

You may roll your eyes at this, but it took my friend dragging me to a friggin beach party to actually make me feel SOMETHING.
Seeing all those happy, party people. Dancing like they just don’t care.

Well, I didn’t care. I just didn’t feel like dancing.

I thought that. Then, I realised.

What the FUCK was wrong with me?

So, after what I considered the turning point of my life in ZoukOut 2005 (an event I have never skipped since), I picked myself up, gritted my teeth through 2 years of compulsory National Service, worked to get some cash under my belt for one more year, before I had enough to get myself back in school.

Cue MDIS. The only school which didn’t take me down.

Rumours are, they’d take anyone.

I didn’t care. They had a stellar record anyway, and at that point I’d take anything.

That was two years ago. I now have a Diploma which I should have had 5 years ago, and an added Advanced Diploma to boot.
And now? March 22nd 2011. I took me a while to sink in, but it finally is: I’m about to undertake something me and my parents never thought I had a chance at: a Bachelor’s Degree.

-cue dramatic drums-

The next 18 months will be my most crucial. Conquer them, and the world WILL be my oyster. Or at least the Radio industry in Singapore. And maybe even the world of Trance Music.

There’s still the cash I need to fly to Oklahoma City to do my lessons there (and roam around the States and meet certain people from Tumblr), but that’ll be in a year from now.

In any case, if you’ve read this far, thank you for reading. Wish me luck, please.

Carpe Diem.

:D

:D

:D

:D

Man, it HAS been a while, hasn't it?

:D

Attention! Attention!

I accidentally stumbled across some spoilers for the Harry Potter book. They look really legitimate. As in, pictures of the book itself. Anyway, I read a bit of the plot synopsis. A bit, but enough to see who dies. And the last word being "well".



If you don't want to spoil yourselves out of a good treat this Saturday, BE CAREFUL while surfing the net. That's all I'll say.

22.05.2008

Mingle² - Free Online Dating

400 blogs, no wait, days to go.

I find those MySpace profiles with the lovely couples kissing each other awfully sweet. With the exception of some people. Either they're too ugly or or or or////.....

Somebody please tell me to get a grip. Tell me the many fishes under the sea. Tell me to live another day. Somebodyanybodyeverybody\\

zxcvn/. ZSDk nml'xc;

Bloody pangsai poopyheads in the three cycle automatons glistening with the might of seventy colony clocks.

Hey, I have to post something here.

-deep breaths-

-exhales-

Well, I think the last 48 hours spent by me being borderline cuckoo was....um, actually I don't know what it achieved.

But I do feel better now. Anger's purged, mostly. I'm still shaking, but a cup of Milo will fix that.

Life being what it is, it won't be the last time. Just as long as I can keep it private. And in my blog, which only 0.00001% (give or take a few hundredth) of Singapore reads anyway.

Well, here's some final bits of insanity to shake loose:

boogie woogie wonkers
hope i'm not going bonkers

Right, now for that Milo.

Lush

What's the opposite of the "blues"? Whatever it is, I got it. It's infectious! I found myself shaking to Akon. Akon! What the blazes is happening to me?

I'm skipping all the way, kicking every door, laughing at anybody who looks at me funny. What a rainy day, I stepped into every puddle and got my socks wet. Whistling all the way, slapping everyone's back. Woo hoo, such a super brilliantly funny day!

This won't last long, but I'm cherishing every second.

And Heroes is 80% complete. Asfdisly awesome!

It's time to Save The World

I, um, just realised something. All the girls I've ever liked, the ones I've crushed on. They're all, in one way or another, cool people. The ones people love to hang out with, as opposed to me, a person who hangs on the fringes. Like with one of them, she's a budding photographer, and she's brilliant, she's creative, she has this amazing way of creating atmosphere and expresses herself magnificently in her self-portraits.

Do I like her because she's exactly the sort of person I would like to be? And in the meantime, I have to struggle with the feeling that I would have no chance with her. But I don't want to succumb to that feeling, because hope is a wonderful thing. The hope that I would be able to be with a woman like her. I don't want to let some stupid thing about "levels" get in my way of dating her or any other girl like her I meet later in life, if I'm lucky.

And. To think of how she's grown as a person in the 2 years I've known her, from a disheveled looking student to one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen, while I've stagnated in geek purgatory, is agony.

I'm on a nostalgia fix. Just looking through my Friendster. Aah, a perfect mixture of relatives, old friends from secondary school, a few guys from poly, net friends, my more recent buddies and one or two profiles which I don't remember adding. A lot of memories. 4 years in Friendster? Hard to believe.

I prefer MySpace now, but well there you go. I just can't let Friendster go that easily. And besides, most of them are too lazy to move. Ah well.

If you guys are going to spring an April Fool's joke on me, make it good. I can always use a good laugh.

Radio 91.3's Saturday Monster Mix Music Marathon is teh sex.

Today if anyone PRAISES you for...






1) Your Smartness
2) Your Beauty
3) Your Style
4) Your Attitude





Slap them!





How dare they fool you before "April 1st?!"

Hurt - Sad Kermit

Note: this is not supposed to be funny. In fact, if you even so much as giggle, I'd worry about you.

Just like when I giggled with the scene with Kermit and the picture of Miss Piggy.




Technorati Tags: sadkermit

"One cannot claim that he is a taxpayer and should benefit from the likes of those in a PAP constituency when he voted for the opposition."

HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHOHOHOHHAAHA
HAHAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAH

-deep breaths-

HAHAHAHAAHAAAHAASHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Ahhhhh......

Dumbf-beep-.

I haven't seen those so-called "disgusting" anti-smoking commercials yet. Do I even want to? A kid got nightmares watching the ads. Now mommy's complaining.

Let me say something. Another kid (me) once watched a child abuse commercial. It has a doll sitting in the corner of a dark empty room. In the background, the cries of a baby. Then a whipping sound, and the doll magically gets a very bad scar on the face. More whips, more bloody scars. The cries get louder and louder and louder. Then, everything stops. Close up to the bloodied scar-filled face of the doll. Fade to black. Roll child abuse message.

Cue one tramautised MSF.

But my dad, he made me watch the ad whenever I tried to run away when the ad comes on TV. One of his ways to toughen my mind. I'm glad he did, now it's a little hard for wanton violence to faze me.

Two points to this story: one, the aforementioned mommy needs to stop complaining and tell the kid to stop being a pussy and suck it up. Odds are, like the doll ad made me convulse in fury everytime I see a child abuse headline, so will this kid flush down every ciggie he comes across. He wouldn't want teeth like a hobo or even worse, a Brit, right?

Two, like I said, I haven't seen the ads, so I can't judge them, but the doll ad proves that if done right, with the right mood, lighting, sound, ads can be very effective tools. For so-called "shock" ads, visual shocks just isn't enough. It has to stick in your mind. Doll getting whipped scars without seeing the actual whips while the cries of a baby gets even more hysterical, that stuck in my mind even nearly two decades after that ad aired, that's how powerful that commercial is.

But what do I know? I'm not a media student. But dammit, I'm going to make sure that changes when I leave NS.

Personally, I prefer the more humorous type of anti-smoking ad.

I'm alone at home.

SO WHAT THE PUCKITY CLUCK SHOULD I DO?!