Thursday, September 15, 2005

Give... Giving... Given... Gave up.

I'm done and through. I'm not sure actually. Just give me some time alone, one day will do. Something in me tells me this is not going to work out. Giving up, I had been thinking about that since March. What held me back, I don't know. Don't push me too hard, don't press me for any answers. If I want to say anything, I would. Otherwise, no. No news is really good news. Leave me alone when I leave you alone, please.

In any case, I'm not in a good mood today. In any case, I hasn't been in a good mood since yesterday. The headache just won't go away.

E Maths test today, I'll pass. Nah, who am I kidding. When will that day come, when I'm sure to get A1s for Maths. Who am I kidding again, that day will never come. And no, this is not about confidence. I had confidence, until disappointment killed it. And then confidence was reborned into hope, but reality comes in. And what was left, is something so pessimistic. And no, I'm not as optimistic as what I seem to be. It just doesn't seem right sometimes when I influence how others think, negatively, because I don't like it when others make me think negative. Ah, crap. Then what am I doing now.

Training was what I needed, really, although to say the truth, it didn't really help. My eyes weren't even fixed on the shuttle when I'm playing a match in court. Everything seemed so blur, so cocked up, and my mind was racing faster than my heart was.

Backwards.

Yea, my mind was retracing, reenacting scenes of the past, very past. Minor details, occasions, etc etc, I almost thought I was going to die. (I heard at the moment when you die, all the past memories, everything will be played backwards in your mind, split second, like rewinding a video tape.) Perhaps it was the headache, or some other reasons, like for once, the mosquitoes in the sports hall just can't stop attacking me. Even my knuckles got stung, why the hell, on the bone?! Is the mosquito trying to suck out some calcium?

Okay crap. I'm regaining my lameness. It felt only right not to blog too depressingly, because I'll only start indulging in self-pity.

I can't believe I'm saying this, I miss Pulau Ubin.

No, I'm not running a fever, I'm not having dengue, I'm not going crazy, I'm in a perfectly right state of mind (okay, not really) and I say it once more:

I MISS PULAU UBIN.

---interruption--- I SAID STOP PRESSING ME FOR ANSWERS. ---interruption---

I miss OBS, somehow, I don't know how, but I just do. I'll rather let the mosquitoes there feed on me. Firstly because then I'm at a lower risk of dengue. Secondly because the mosquitoes there are more united, they come in a whole bunch, and once you get a sting, you get one whole patch of stings on one whole patch of skin. (Hey it rhymes) Hey wait, the second reason isn't really a valid one. Never mind, think up of reasons yourself.

My imaginary friend is called Sandy. That's the most unoriginal and pri-six-problem-sum-name I can come up with other than Ali. She's been with me for three weeks plus already. I almost named her Patrick, but that's too Spongebob. And only after calling her Sandy for one week or so did I realise there's another character in Spongebob the cartoon named Sandy (the astronaut toot-faced squirrel). Somewhat related to me anyway, my ambition is to become an astronaut. (Note: "is" -- present tense). Near to impossible, but I'll still try, no, I'll still dream.

I came online thinking I'll blog in less than 5 sentences. But it turns out to be more than that. Sorry if this post sounded weird, I can't really help it.

Panadol isn't helping. Maybe I should just chop my head off.

Joking joking. I won't chop my head off. And this joke isn't funny. So it isn't really a joke. So I shouldn't say "joking". Okay then, kidding. Then again, it has nothing to do with children. Fine, take it I didn't say anything. Just stop reading at "Panadol isn't helping."

I really miss Pulau Ubin.