Music & Magic

Malcolm Ball.
Honestly the only examiner I have met who didn't make me nervous.
Salut.
I have a strange feeling I might get merit, or even distinction this time.
Not getting hopes up though.

Going to work on 3 coming Saturdays at Klinik Kok USJ4. I'm afraid of screwing something up, I can't deal with the medicine fast enough and my mother keeps saying my hand-writing is fugly so I keep fumbling with my pen. There are going to be some shitty f***kers who don't give a dam that the clinic is understaffed and are fricking impatient to be served.

Damn prodigies.
Damn patriotism.
Damn ungrateful rich bastards.
Damn the fricking idiots who make other people rich and complain their whole fricking lives about being poor.

I feel like going on a ranting rampage.
But why bother with the human race?

A postcard from the sea

As requested~
Very nicely done middle finger camera here.
Hey you!~
(Notice the two lovebirds behind, in a candid!)

Blank

12:21 PM

I can't think of anything worthwhile.
I rather not rant.
I don't want to blog about SeaYunn like she told me to.
.......

1:52 PM

Post this anyway?

Thought

This was what my work place looked like before the Yuk Chai joint concert. Probably will never look that way after Form 5.

Tze Jing caught in what seemed like a really good mood just now.
We both got kinda hyper with the capitals.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

I feel like sharing stupid things.
Because you laugh, other people laugh, you laugh, other people laugh.


Thinking of ways to make money out of the little I have, stocks aren't legal yet, renting my books is unethical, charging for intellectual services is unethical...
I'd prefer earning the things I want.
Because I'd deserve them.

I'll share you a melody next time eh?

What do you see?

What is death?
Perhaps a frightening abyss of darkness and chaos.
Perhaps nothingness.
Perhaps 9 circles of hell you traverse to ultimate doom.

Maybe...

It's a land far across the sea, and in your dreams, this unknown wonder calls to your soul.
Everything is hued an uncanny, tranquil white, you glimpse the faraway sands, wondering what lay in the sanctum of the land, concealed behind a wood just thick enough to shield the treasures that lay beyond.

Death is just another journey in another land.
Or is what we call "life" the other land?

Maybe death isn't so bad after all.

Transitions

Wee Ren just told me about this book he read about 2012.
Some pretty interesting stuff about the 5th dimension.
And how only the humans who adapt the fastest will survive.
Ceaselessly interesting and mind-boggling.

Me I'm feeling my loss in years.
So many <9 year olds about grade 5-7 in both violin and piano.
Shit shit shit.
I hate prodigies.

Rain Makers Forever

Had some hell of a time when wind and rain struck right after our finishing of YMCA. Not the first time. Good times seem all too short for me. Pity.
Good times are now.
Me looking at the form 2s' in band, wishing I had more time to spend in the band.
You feel like yourself, no facades needed, no pretending, no secret grudges or unresolved conflict, there's some solidarity.
Heck we don't even mind our smells of sweat.
Perhaps it's because it smells of passion and perseverance?

Maybe in the future, when we each part from SSB, when we hear, see or play any one band instrument, we'll think of those fun, senseless, stupid, feckless, eventful and fun days together.
Makes me wonder if we'll ever be in contact in future,
Shall we have a band reunion?
Shall there still be unconditional bonds through music?
Or are these simply the dreams of a hopeless sentimental?
I hope not.

Imagine that moment, the last time you'll ever pick up your instrument and make some music with fellow band members, and then to never pick up the instrument ever again in future, only to imagine and relive the moments of music in recordings played by others...

Too sad to let it happen.
How many will actually continue playing their instruments in the future?

Time seems all too great a teacher, if only she doesn't kill both the dreams and memories of her students and the very memory of them.