Augustana.

I swear to god the TP enrollment is a massive chore. There's so much to do and right now, i don't have that kind of time on my hands. I've got work, more when March begins and i become a full-timer. And that screwed up printer of mine which was operational for less than a bloody month before it decided to retire from printing. The premature retirement means i'll have to print the Medical Form somewhere else with a fully fit printer, and i don't have the time to go elsewhere.

Then there's the appointment i have to make with some random clinic from the TP Booklet and the actual turning-up at the doctor's. Stupid thing is the only free time i have is between 12am to around 5am when i'm the only one in the family awake, and that means my parents aren't around to provide the information needed to complete the online enrollment which requires detailed pieces of information about my parents such as profession, IC number and etc.

I think i still have to pay a visit to a DBS Bank or something and get the person there to sign a silly form regarding a subsidy by the Government. Even more things to worry about. And my massive headaches that strike during different periods of each day of each hectic week isn't helping one bit. Neither is taking Panadol(extra relief) like 2-hourly, which isn't exactly the normal dosage.

God, i need help. I'm having one of them headaches right now and there's no panadol at home.

Thank the heavens for Augustana.

Expatriates.

We leap through buildings and up up up above the Eiffel.

You hold my hand and together we run around Paris, lovely fast.

The strangers look at us like we're pigeons without wings.

We feed gummy bears to the sweet sweet children in the villages of Varanasi.

You hold my hand and together we wander round India, beads of sweat falling.

The strangers look at us like we're alley cats with only 5 lives.

We mingle with the fishes who greet us with Barrier Reef enthusiasm.

You say you're an angel and Australia should be honored to have you, i just smile.

The strangers look at us like we're ladybugs with black stripes.


I loved you all the way.

Fixation.

This is over-the-top sexy..

Sorry Sam, i stole your pictures!

They aren't actually copyrighted or anything anyway, :B

Seriously.

SkinLabel, in my opinion, the best tattoo studio in Singapore.

My "before Polytechnic starts" resolution is to get more tattoos, this time on my right leg from knee down. I intend to get a traditional Japanese koi tattoo with the waves and all done. I'm gonna' go for a yellowish-gold one on the outside of my calf and a lotus probably on the inside or back. And Alan Law's coming with me!

Brother you'd better get money around the same time i do, so we can go together. We'll just go and get the tattoos done, then go home and get it from our parents! Eat the sweet before the bitter my friend, wahahahaha!

Pseudo.

From underneath the trees that tower like monuments of the gods, you reminisce about your glorious past and memories flood your mind like a downpour during the monsoon. Lady breeze gently caresses your cheeks, cupping them in a frigid embrace with her hands of wind. You snuggle deeper into your coat of fur, trying in vain to keep yourself warm in the gelid weather.

You miss his perky demeanor.

Disappearing into the horizon, the tangerine sun sets the entire skyline aglow. Infuriated hues of red-yellow intermingle with the cerulean sky, producing streaks of wavelike formations that constantly abbreviate. Amidst the whispering of the forest, rhythmic waves crashing onto the beach can be heard.. only slightly. You haul yourself up, swiping away the decomposing leaves that cohere your faded jeans.

You recall his gallant endeavors at courting you.

Making your way down to the shoreline, you spy the last of the migratory birds soaring above you, cuddling the heavens. Though autumn, wildlife still flourish all around you. Between the scabrous rock formations, you catch a fleeting glance of a gold-tinged viper. Even the crustaceans are chipper. Leaving footprints of sand, you tread the shore like a beachcomber at work. The air is bitter and pierces your nostrils. Tucking in the rebellious strands of hair behind your ear, your eyes start to tear.

You remember the time you first laid eyes on him.

To you, the person who refuses to be called "anonymous" or "passerby". (i assumed you're a lady and you like Red)

Alabaster.

Here are some pictures of the infamous rascal.

I'm too lazy to post anything else.

Nostalgia.

One can yearn for what has already spent, the feeling so strong it triturates the very essence of the body and lays waste to the soul. As each new dawn breaks, the early bird flitters down to snatch the fattest worm and the flowers yawn away the night and darkness into the welcoming embrace of morning rays.

Our souls, they age with each inaudible tick of the clock hands. Our strength, it comes and goes like the ebb and flow of each wave breaching the shoreline.

It's now afternoon, the imposing butterflies waft through the summer breeze in their majestic jerseys of striking colors, each varying in tinge. In the deluge of the crystal clear water, tenacious schools of matured salmon, obstinate as an unmoving mountain, endure battering from each avalanche of water and slowly make their way back home amidst the clarion of water against water.

From a liberator's point of view - a rhapsodic juvenile lobbing a harmless rock at a great oak tree, naive in his attempt to fell the behemoth - could be considered the first steps to independence. But from the oppressor's point of view, that desperate attempt could be taken as a sign of graver events to follow, and thus he cuts down the boy.

Crispy crimson leaves segregate themselves from the branches and twirl down to join their fallen brethren. A whirlwind of rustling ensues, each leaf floating down as if guided by an invisible trail. The fog closes in, enveloping the forest like an army of empyrean warriors wielding spears of fire. Silhouettes dance around your dying fire, among the shadowy trees, giving way to hallucinations of fiendish monstrosities.

I've run out of complicated theories. I can't remember the smell of your skin and the zeal of your wink.

Apprehension.

There's just a part of me that likes to bring you down, just to keep you around because I'm afraid once you realize how wonderful you are, you'll leave me.

If i wanted silence, i'd whisper. If i wanted loneliness, i'd choose to go. And if i liked rejection, i'd audition. And if i didn't love you, you would know.

I'm just not convinced that i'm worthy of your time, but i will do what it takes to make you mine. So sit back, relax and enjoy my show. This could be funny.

Rescue.

It's been what, exactly a month since the entire class was together in the same room. It's been exactly 1 month since the 12th of January, the day we collected our results amidst the stench of fear and elation, anticipation and jubilation in the school hall.

And we all recall how it felt to be in class together, not knowing that as each second quickly ticked by, memories were being constructed at the back of our unconscious minds. And now we look back and reminisce about the good old days of hanging around the corridor outside class when Mr.Ong had decreed that "Thou Shall Not Loiter During Curriculum Time". I start to ponder, why didn't i treasure my time in school? Why didn't i do the right things back then so that when i look back now, i'll be satisfied with my achievements?

Oh how true the saying "People don't treasure what they have until it's finally gone", gone like my favourite periods of English when it sounded the horn that i could finally get some justified sleep. Or just chatting in a group amongst ourselves, totally oblivious to our surroundings or the fact that there was a teacher around trying to conduct her lesson.

It's these times that my classmates and i look back on, and wonder why couldn't time just stand still. So we would be together for a long time to come, that we could forever remain unchanged, in our creased uniforms, sitting on tables and nonchalantly sipping at our Pink Dolping bottles and talking about how screwed up school was. Oh! the irony..

To the good ol' days my friends, to the good ol' days!

Stranger Than Fiction

Harold Crick, played by Will Ferrell, is a man who has everything perfectly scheduled, from the number of time he brushes each tooth to the exact number of steps he takes while crossing the road to catch the bus to work at exactly the same time everyday of his life. But one day, his perfect existence is shattered by a voice, a female voice in his head which seems to be narrating the events of his life. This voice belongs to Kay Eiffel, a world renowned author who hasn't published a book for a very long time. In all her previous books, she's killed the main character at the end. Now she has to kill Harold Crick, and is experiencing writer's block. One day, realizing his death is only imminent, Harold becomes desperate in his search of the narrator in his head and talk her out of killing him. His search leads him to Jules Hilbert, an English Professor who tries to narrow down the possibilities and figure out what kind of story Harold is in - and who's writing it. In the meantime, knowing of his impending death, Harold Crick finally starts living his life and this in turn leads to a budding relationship with the rebellious and almost anarchy-like Ana Pascal, the owner of a bakery.

I could continue telling the rest of the story, or i could leave it hanging here. The latter of which i will do. Simply a must watch movie, for no movie review can amount to what the movie actually is. A story of love, a dark romance. Of comedy and humour. And perhaps the most important of all, living one's life for today and not for anything else.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Stranger Than Fiction.

Animosity.

Sweating profusely under the sweltering heat, amongst the hustle and bustle of city on-goings, i ask myself if my day could be any worse.

Back at the restaurant, i nonchalantly sip at my cup of Pepsi, trying desperately to come up with the name of the song that's playing on the speakers. Failing in my attempt at a recall, i give up and let out a sigh. I leave my cup of Pepsi half empty and walk off in search of something to do to occupy my time. Refill someone's dwindling refreshment or take an order?

People walk past me as if i have a piece of paper stapled to my forehead saying "Don't fuggin' acknowledge the fact that i'm actually here". Obviously they don't care, they've got their own problems, a cheating spouse or maybe trying to reach Maxwell Market before majority of the lunch crowd do. Why should they bother about a spectacled kid giving out flyers that advertise a Steakhouse with particularly tasty Lamb Loin?

They simply amble off without so much as a wave of a hand or a "No Thanks". Every now and again, a neatly dress and extremely sophisticated looking passerby would come along. In the distance they see me looking at them and they decide to act like i'm Kevin Bacon from Hollowman and they avoid me either by walking behind me or moving away from my outstretched hand. Then there's the "Omg, is that Brad Pitt sitting at the kopitiam" act, which involves me sticking out my hand and the person just staring out into the distance as if i was one of the millions of trees in Singapore which no one pays attention to. More often than not, people do acknowledge me and i sincerely thank those that did, especially the ones that decided to ease my burden and take a flyer or two from me, some even thanking me in the process when it should have been the reverse.

Then again there are some with absolutely no manners whatsoever. Instead of even trying to avoid me, they act like they're occupied when they near me. Some pretend to look for something non-existent in their purses, others start scatching at they're faces so their unable to take the flyers. Thing that pisses me off the most is that right after they've walked away, they stop what they were doing a few seconds ago and continue on like as if they've found their EZ-Link card when in fact they've got nothing.

I wanna' hit these frekkin' morons so badly, i have to handcuff both my hands to a pole and throw away the keys just to stop myself.

Life is tough enough. Without you, it's unbearable.

Poise.

Editing pictures is uber fun. That's why TP should let me into VSC, damn you fools.

Please?

P.S. : Thank you Jiahui, [:

友(friend).

Kunsheng : Aye Chris, you try the laksa soup, like shit sia.
*Christian looks at Kunsheng and continues eating his Bak Kut Teh*
Kunsheng : You just try, not nice one at all lor, it's more like chilli soup..
*Christian tries soup at the same time as Zengting.(can't remember what she says)
Christian : Not enough coconut milk lah.
Kunsheng : Fuck lah, i dowan' eat liao!

*10 minutes passes like a housefly buzzing around our food*

*Christian watches Kunsheng drink the laksa soup, Norvan joins in*
Christian : I thought you said the soup sucks, still drink for what?
Kunsheng : No lah, i drink that time will excited de. You try, drink one big spoonfull.
Christian : So when you drink laksa soup you will "OOO!" and "AHHH!" because it's exciting ah?
*Christian shakes his head in dismay while Zengting starts laughing like a hyena*

Just one of the manymanymanymanymany conversations between Kunsheng, Zengting, Jiawen, Norvan and me when we went out yesterday. Most of the time it's excluding Jiawen because she mostly speaks chinese and i have a "Screw-Chinese-Speaking-Mofos" policy. And she's also afraid we'll disturb her when she decides to speak, which is already very seldom(majority of the time she laughs along with Zengting).

Here's the general route we took, i prefer calling it the "Scouts Route".

1. Rendezvous-ed at Harbourfront MRT station at 12pm SHARP!(by emphasising the word "sharp", you should have already figured out that TWO girls were LATE)

2. Purchased 5 tickets for "Love Matters", a local production directed by Jack Neo.

3. Proceeded to eating Carl's Jr. where the burgers comes in irregular sizes, onion skins are used to make Onion Rings and the Iced Tea is so bland it makes the controversy surrounding Mas Selamat's escape sound like a walk in the park.

4. Laughed like a frekkin' lunatic while the show was being screened, and it was so predictable that Kunsheng and I kept saying what was gonna' happen next. Overall, 4/5 stars i guess(due to dirty humour that Kunsheng and I found particularly hilarious, same can't be said of the two boring girls).

5. Norvan turned up at close to 3.30pm, after we'd left the cinema. The buffoon wasted 10bucks on a show he didn't watch.

6. Walked around Chinatown and we all got matching keychains with our chinese names and the word "友" painted inside a circular-hollow piece of glass. Now we'll remember this outing forever, and ever.

7. Walked around the area, harassed a Japanese man at the bridge at Clarke Quay and i gave him a sweet sweet "Arigato!" after he took a picture for the 5 of us.

This conversation took place a short while after the smexy Japanese man left.

Zengting : You know "Arigato" isn't the full thing for "Thank you", it's like only half leh.
Christian : So "Arigato" means "Thank" in Japanese ah?
Zengting : Yayaya! (finally i get to teach Christian something, about time!)
Christian : So if i say "Arigatos" with an "S" at the back, does it mean "Thanks"? *signature cheeky grin appears*
Zengthing says between laughs : You..*haha* idiooot! *hahaha* Not like that lah moron! *tries punching Christian*

8. Rested at the park area infront of Parkview Square, a building that looks like one that would fit in Gotham City, Bat Man's metropolitia. Played games on my iPhone that involved so much tapping and shaking it made us look like spastic kids fresh out of an asylum.

It looks way more gothic at night.

Many other events transpired during our time together. And it would take me at least a decade to write down everything.

I find this conversation extremely hilarious and absolutely awesome.

*Christian sits down after buying his Bak Kut Teh, Zengting and Jiawen leave to buy their food*
Zengting : Goodbye!
Christian : Good.. Riddance!
*Ebil monstah slaps Christian in the back*

Now we're simply, the "Usual Five".