It's that time of year again

As the year 2012 winds down to an end and the following year dawns upon you and I, we look back at the amazingly good, the horribly bad, and the downright nasty of this year. These highlights of the year will hopefully be able to sum up this rollercoaster year and do good as a warning memento in the near future.

Probably the first thing that comes to mind is the STE examinations and the journey throughout the year. This is probably the only thing that has been amazingly good while being able to be horribly bad and at times downright nasty.Overall, I believe that it has just been absolutely immense, taking in all the life lessons, the daunting stress of the mind, the late nights, the minimal laughs and the post-exam freedom, I'm extremely grateful I've gone through it all. Would I go through it again? Yes and no. But more to no.

Along with raping the mind with books throughout the first few weeks, the school decides to wedge an inter-school competition in the midst of the whole thing. While this was distracting the hell out of all of us, it was still a pretty amazingly good experience. And probably the last. For this year marks the last of the Inter-Madrasah Games, or more aptly known as IMG, and, while looking alarmingly similar to an image format, it has been good while it lasted, and although I only managed a solitary silver, I won't spout any excuses (though tbh the only competitive year was this year) (and the stadium was absolute rubbish) (IT WAS EXAM YEAR) and accept it and wave farewell and look to the future. And IHG. Which has been equally great. Credits to JMS for destroying IMG.

Besides shoving sports events up our bottoms, the school decided we should have a debate team (two in fact, if not for the other team being, well, non-existent really) sent for a debate competition. Along with four other mates, we managed to claw our way through preliminaries, scrape through the quarters and semis, before surprisingly breezing through the finals, brushing aside opponents from universities and tertiary insituitions. As a personal account, I was badly written off by a number of people only known to the same four members that I was with, but well, I've succeeded. So really, shove it up your asses. It was such an enlightening utopia from the humdrum studying and I've really come to like it. So, when's the next competition?


This year also marked the first time I was diagnosed with cataracts. After suspected by an optician, I was sent to a hospital to see what's what. I had to go through blood tests and acuity tests and half the year's worth of time waiting as doctors try to find out why I'm down with cataracts. Doctors pin it down on hereditary issues but I'm pretty sure I got it out of nothing. Either way, surgery was decided after everything was over, which was around the end of the year, but sadly along the way I had to miss out two to three weeks of the holiday time doing strenuous stuff like sports. And I was too long-sighted for close-range activities from reading and writing to using my phone (sobs). Anyway. an assessment after the surgeries were done revealed that the lens in my left is off by a mere 200 degrees. Mere. I'm scheduled for another surgery to replace the lens next year so hopefully it will all be well. Downright nasty.

This year also marked the departure and disposal of two of my classmates. I'll let you categorize this into wherever you want. Honestly, one was a full on 24 stone prick who is deluded and sadly ignorantly stupid. He leaves after the school had decided after four years, that they'd had enough, and would let him go or they'd expel the pillock, four years too late. He didn't pay the fees, he never paid attention in class, and is constantly into trouble. Now he hasn't any future.  The other was a real asshat who thinks himself above others and generally is a wanker. This one was a tad smart though, albeit not smart enough to do what's right and eventually migrate out of the country. Both of you have cause me a great deal of trouble, and I wish of you all the best in future. Now sod off already.

There's probably a ton of other things, but I'm afraid I can't recall. Maybe next time I won't be as mentally old and will remember the good times. Here's to an immense 2012 and until next time, happy new year gaiz.

Nostalgia

You could be happyAnd I won't knowBut you weren't happyThe day I watched you go
And all the thingsThat I wished I had not saidAre played on loopsTill it's madness in my head
Is it too late to remind youHow we wereBut not our last days of silenceScreaming, blur
Most of what I rememberMakes me sureI should have stopped you from walkingOut the door
You could be happyI hope you areYou made me happierThan I'd been by far
Somehow everythingI own smells of youAnd for the tiniest momentIt's all not true
Do the thingsThat you always wanted toWithout me there to hold you backDon't think, just do
More than anythingI want to see you goTake a glorious biteOut of the whole world

The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus - Your Guardian Angel

Purgation

The plane didn't have a smooth flight. A swoop to the left, a swoop to the right, and a few disconcerting spins before the nose went too high up and stalled, causing it to nose-dive for the lush grass.

Matthew watches on as the paper plane fell from the starless sky down the horizon. The tall grass meant he would miss the moment of impact, and along with it any trace of its location as it disappeared into the dark of the night. We have a bird down, Matt says in his head, plopping onto the soft greens, clearing his lungs.

Matt's watch ticks midnight. The moon was still going strong, lighting up the obsolete sky and he could feel his pulse slowing as he relaxed. This was his little utopia, a getaway place where he would retreat to for a catharsis of the mind. No friends, no music, just a frenzied mind and blank acres of land to dispose of it all. He was suddenly snapped back into reality when he hears the rustling of paper.

Still prone on the ground, he turns to his left and picks up the same paper plane that he had just thrown, eyeing it curiously. That's not supposed to happen, he thought. He fingers the makeshift flaps on the wing of the plane, two straight cuts separated by a minute gap, where the bit of paper in between is then deftly sloped downward or upward, according to the pilot, of course.

"Your flaps are good, but you should take more care in folding the paper. It's not gonna glide smoothly if it's all unbalanced, you know."

Matthew flipped onto his back in reply. The flaps were adjusted to counter the imbalance. Unsuccessfully it seems, thought Matt. He wasn't expecting another person to be around, not at this time of night, and certainly not of the opposite gender. He holds the paper plane up above his face, and imitated its gliding motion against the backdrop of the night sky.

"Thanks, I guess."

Matt could hear the shuffling of feet against the grass as she comes up beside him stoops down.

"Is this seat taken? I'll just leave if you wanna be alone, I mean, no one goes here expecting company anyway."

"Nah, stick around if you want to. I just wanted to get away from all that." Matt points toward the city skyline, a brilliant mosaic of light and noise, now a distant glow from the fields.

He sits up, propping his back on two arms as the girl settles down an awkward distance away beside him, hugging her two legs and resting her head on her knees.

"So what brought you here?"

It was only now that Matt had the chance to see her, or what he could see of her, for she had her dark hair resting on her right, Matt's left, concealing all but pale skin as she stared on into the distance.

It was only when she turned to answer that he could see a pair of earnest eyes that could've been any shade of dark, accompanied with little wrinkles around them that Matt assumed were from years of spectacle use. Matt took to great heights trying not to stare for too long.

"I erm, had a bit of argument back home and wanted to walk it off."

Even now, against the scarce moonlight, she radiated a certain air about herself, one of discreet beauty and perennial insecurity. And Matt knew.

"I'm Natalie, by the way."

Matt's watch disrupts the silent air, beeping out an alarm. The analog face showed 12:10, the tritium on the hands glowing bright.

"Matt. I'd love to stay but I've got to go. It's nice meeting you, Natalie, or Nat, if I can call you that."

"Sure, Matt." Natalie could only offer a weak smile as Matt replies with a taut grin.

Matt picks himself up and walks away due south. Natalie was doleful as she is, again, left in seclusion. She has always been reluctant to embrace company although she was desperate for it. She hugs her legs tighter, ruing her insecurity.

Her attention then turns to a small projectile that had hit her in the back, which didn't hurt in itself but was surprising enough to jolt her out of her overthinking.

Picking up the paper plane Matt had brought with him earlier, she could make out the faint scribble of a note on the paper wings and let out a stifled giggle. Written on it was, "I'll be back here tomorrow. Take care Nat."

Natalie let out a sigh, relieved that she had herself a second chance, and stretched her long legs out, glancing up at the moon. I've gotta be here tomorrow, she thought.

Yellowcard - A Vicious Kind

Flashback

   "Might I remind you that you're a fully grown adolescent messing around with a Matchbox Aston Martin?"

"It's an engineering masterpiece, Danny. It looks stunning too!"

"it's a scaled down model toy car, dude."

"I don't have a driving license to drive the real thing."

Matthew Callahan continued appreciating the beauty of the DB3, once a British sports car and regular racer at the now defunct racetrack they were on, the Thomson Road Circuit, a famous venue in the racing scene back in the sixties. Along with him was Daniel Rose, a close friend of Matthew. The perennial summer afternoon had been damped by a shower of rain in the morning, and the flora surrounding the road was a brilliant green, the road itself shaded by huge trees, casting a shadow over the two peeps. Time has eroded the famous race track to a kind of lengthy, winding tarmac a rally driver would enjoy, and the kind of beautiful scenery Matt and Danny would gladly bask in.

"So this place used to be a racetrack?" Daniel walked beside Matthew, kicking up loose gravel. 

"Yeap. Racing back then was pretty different than what it is now though. Too controlled." Matthew heaved a sigh before having one last look at the toy. He keeps the car deep in his left breast pocket.

As a budding photographer, Daniel didn't mind tagging along in Matt's adventures exploring obsolete places with amazing environments. Matt would have a companion to express another side of the reserved character that is Matthew Callahan, and Danny would have another collage of pictures to show off, complete with the unwilling model, when Matt was having his brighter days.

But despite the generous amount of time spent together, Matt was still wary of regarding Daniel anymore than an acquaintance, and Daniel was already content with what little camaraderie they had, the picture gallery he had seemed to him like a bargain.
 

"Spare me the history lesson, old man. I'll be short of a few albums when you finally leave for Cambridge."

"Yeah, it's been fun being used. I'll miss you there, man." Matthew was amused with Danny's frankness.

"Of course you will, more than your family and friends, Matt. How are you gonna cope out there man?" Matthew wasn't sure, but he might have just felt a hint of genuine concern from little Danny Rose.

"I don't know, dude; I'll manage though. How about your photography exploits?" Matt was eager to change the subject. Danny had a mouth as loose as his baggy trousers.

"I'll pull through. I could use a time warp to the present and go for the current attractions. Damn if I miss the pristine nature though."

They came to an ancient concrete bench, braving the test of time. Daniel continued snapping shots from his DSLR while Matt sat down, taking a long swig of water from a bottle, meanwhile picturing a life-scale version of his toy car whizzing past in traditional British racing colours, a deep shade of green.

"So you leave tomorrow, right? Maybe I can see you off, you know, for old times' sake." Daniel was asking between snapshots.

"Yeah, not really. I leave in the wee hours of the morning, man. This is the last time you'll be seeing Matty Cally before he leaves."

"Really." Daniel didn't flinch. The photographer was hiding behind his camera, and Matt knew it.

"Look, it's been really been brilliant going on these adventures and having you around, man. I know we're not brothers or whatever, but I wanted you to know it's been a ton of fun. So thanks, man."

Danny sighed and let the camera down from his eyes. He takes a seat beside Matt on the bench and relaxes, stretching his hands on the old concrete, while Matthew sits hunched, resting his head on his hands.

"Relax dude. I know we haven't been on the best of terms but I understand where you're coming from. Thank you too, for all this you know. We've been through lots of shit, but it was some pretty good shit, man."

Matt and Danny heartily laughed it off, before reaffirming their friendship with a bump of the fists. The two guys may be on different terms, but in the end, all that matters will be the knowledge that your buddy has your back, as you do his.

Lostprophets - Better Off Dead

Purgation

   "It's all really simple. Nothing a six month old guitarist can't do. Give it a try. First, do a G, then G2, then a D tab. "

"You do know you make all this sound too easy right?"

"It is what it sounds like, Kyla. Simple yet brilliant. Kinda like me, you know."

Skylar Williams shrugged off the comment by blowing loud raspberries at her friend and guitar guru Matthew Callahan. The morning dew from the long grass of the garden radiated a fresh scent that seemed to be aiming for the balcony where Kyla sat on a plush divan, trying to get to grips with the six-stringed finger buster, a Gibson Hummingbird belonging to Matt.

"So how are you getting along in your quest to rule the skies?" Kyla asked between strums.

Matthew is a student at Cambridge University chasing his dream of becoming a pilot. He has come a long way from home, and despite only having left Singapore for two months, Kyla could tell he was already feeling a tinge of homesick. For Skylar was a shrewd psychology student at the same campus, and could make out the telltale signs of a homesick puppy.

"It's going fine I guess. Apart from busting my brain with the math every other day, it's all dandy. Seems you've got the hang of the first few tabs. Next do an E minor, then a D, then the G2 and G for this part."

Matt was introducing Kyla to the music scene, her first instrument being the guitar, at her request. He starts her off with the simple stuff, beginning with an acoustic rendition of Green Day's Good Riddance. It also helped that Skylar had a good ear for music, which, in Matt's eyes, just meant she had a similar taste to him, and was familiar with the song. Skylar pauses abruptly before starting on the next set of tabs.

"I'm pretty sure you'd be chuffed to bits to have your family around these parts," Skylar pipped in, keeping a nimble eye on Matt's microexpressions.

"Yes, I may be missing my peeps back home, Kyla. What else can you conclude from your psychoanalysis of your subject here, Doctor Williams?" Matt replied with a hint of bemused sarcasm.

Matt didn't like being figured out easily. He took pride from knowing more about his compatriots than they do about him, and while he wasn't chasing a psychology degree, he was astute enough to counter whatever mind-game pedigree Skylar had. 

"Well, captain," Kyla starts, a jab at his dream career, "You seem to be missing a certain dear friend as well, and I would love to help you if not for these troublesome strings here."

Matt didn't like where this was going. Neither did he like the sounds emanating from the Gibson. Some of the strings were brushing off Kyla's dainty fingers, letting out a suppressed tick. 

"I miss all of my friends," Matt mutters nonchalantly, as he grasps Skylar's hand on the fretboard, and starts correcting her when necessary, almost shadow playing the guitar, all the time handling Skylar's fingers with all the smoothness of a puppeteer with his marionette from above.

Skylar silently mimics Matt's long fingers, thoroughly enjoying the whole experience.

"Of course you jolly well do, but I'm pretty sure all of them aren't named Isabella." 

Matt was immediately caught off guard, releasing whatever pressure he had on Skylar's fingers on the fretboard. Skylar though, was content to keep the pressure on and continue playing, having hit home.

"So who is this Isabella girl?" Kyla pressed him.

Matt was oblivious to her question; he could feel Kyla's brunette hair flowing in the wind against his shoulder. A faint smell of lavender seemed to disrupt the steady flow of the morning air. The sun shone through Skylar's left, and Matt had his breath taken away as Skylar's charming caramel face revealed a shimmer of light from a pair of lovely brown eyes, hiding behind her black thick-framed spectacles. 

"What?" Matt managed, still transfixed by the beauty that beheld his eyes.

"Captain, we've lost power from the engines!" Kyla exclaimed, playfully snapping her little fingers in front of him. 

"That's very funny, Doctor." Matt was out of his trance, albeit still taking in Skylar's beauty inconspicuously.

"Just know that the paybacks are a pain. Anyway, Isabella's an old flame; it doesn't matter."

Skylar had put the guitar down on a stand facing the divan. She rested her head on his right shoulder, deftly inserting the Linkin Park themed guitar pick into his left breast pocket.

"As old a flame as that guitar?" Kyla asked inquisitively.

So that's how she knew, Matt exclaimed in his head. The guitar was a gift from Isabella, and it featured a small signature of her name she had signed herself among the white dove decorative found embellishing the pick guard. He could still make out the small inscription spelling out "Izzy" on the guitar from where he was. 

"Yeah, that's how I found out, Matt." Skylar could see Matt's eyes had turned to the guitar as he figured it out.

"You're getting really interested for a psychoanalysis, Doctor. Alright, she wasn't just any other girl. She bought me that as a gift, would you believe that?" Matt gestured toward the Gibson.

Indeed, Isabella Summers was in many ways a really close friend of Matthew. But it was only very unfortunate that all the relationship they had together was thrown away under a startling turn of events both found too hard to handle. And although they're both now on casual terms, Matthew was wistful to let go of what they used to have together.

"I wonder what kinda paint thinner she was smelling when she thought of that." Skylar kidded.

Matt laughed it off but although it was all humorous to him, Skylar could see he was still deep in thought regarding the curious character that is Isabella Summers.

John Mayer - In Your Atmosphere

D-Day part 1

  As I trudged through the blast doors that enveloped the opening of the day surgery centre, my mind was away thinking of the other guys who were meeting up at Jurong for a swim. I wanted to keep my mind off what I'm going through, I felt it was sort of a huge farce of a problem. Cataract surgery and the whole process, as I've read, seemed pretty minor and uneventful. The risks were small, the duration even smaller. The operation took thirty minutes, the hours that passed will be used to shake off the anesthetics.
         
                              Still wouldn't mind splashing in some water though.

After waiting the trademark hospital duration of approximately five thousand years, I am led into a ward-ish room filled averagely with patients and nurses all minding their own business. I'm assigned a bed and tended to by a nurse. I'm asked questions, drug allergies, loose teeth, any medication I'm on, any fever. No no no no no. I was given then some hospital garb to change into before coming back and answering yet more questions. After quiz time was over, the anesthetist came by to have a look. Probably the jolliest Indian guy I've met so far this year. The positive energy seemed to radiate throughout the whole room. I yawned a reply. It was still pretty bloody early in the morning, and the surgeon was late, so anesthetic were probably not needed to knock myself out.


Soon after, I was wheeled through the ward into the operating theatre on my bed. Al I saw were the glaring fluorescents whizzing through. It almost seemed unreal. I couldn't believe what I was going through. As I'm pushed into the room, I'm transferred by my bottom onto another bed equipped with all sorts of medical equipment. A heart monitor faces the anesthetist and a high power lamp looms above the head of who was probably the lead surgeon. I make out the anesthetist affirming that he has allowed the anesthetic to flow through into my body through the tube stabbed into the artery of my hand. A nurse brings over an oxygen mask for me to breathe in. A few awkward moments pass as everyone waits for me to knock out. I breathe in the cold oxygen and felt myself relaxing. I felt my heartbeat slowing. My eyes suddenly felt droopy, and everything suddenly blacked out.


I came to in the ward, the first glances back into this world blinding. From one eye anyway. The other was closed shut in an eye shield, safely protected from any sort of danger. I still felt really really weak though, so I relaxed again and soon I knocked out yet again. When I awoke again, I still felt pretty bloody weak hahaha the anesthetic was some strong dope. I had to get up and leave for home though, otherwise it was a night in hospital, and a hole in my parents' pocket.

After leaving I was still weaker than normal. My throat was unusually dry, my head pounding and I had half my vision. I come back home and slept again. The advice I got was to refrain from any sports, any bright sunlight and generally doing anything with my left eye. That generally also took away half of my life and two weeks off my holiday time, as I had to become a couch potato. My right eye is due next week, and I sure am not looking foward to wasting any more holiday time.


In the wise words of infamous immature idiots idiots, YOLO.

John Mayer - Gravity

catharsis

The coming of December marks the end of another year and the dawn of a new one. So for entertainment I shall put down a few highlights of this year and maybe a few stuff to look out for come next year.

 - Hilarious STE results. Personally I believe I can do much much MUCH better but I've moved on from that. Now that's left is for Os. For further details, read on.

- Cataract surgery. Due on the fifth and the twelfth, cause I've got two eyes, and really I'm buzzing to see what I've been missing with the new monofocal lenses(wish they could be coloured though) Those who are actually curious and not just shitting me, the natural lenses in my eyes, that can focus naturally make things clear due to processes I can't explain clearly, we'll call it magic, into synthetic lenses that can't focus and instead only look good at a specific distance. So I'll get better on long range but need spectacles on my near sighted behalf. Pretty buzzed, can't wait.

 - The going of a kindergarten friend overseas to continue his studies. Honestly, you've cost me more trouble than anything else, I have no reason to think you'll be any different there, if not worse, and I wish you all the best. Goodbye and good riddance.

- A change of environment. Due to some corporate upper level fiasco at school, the secondary students are dumped for snot nosed pain in the anus primary children and we are well kicked (colocating is such a soft political sugar coated word) out to another institution while still wearing the school badge, amazingly. There are a shitload of things wrong with my school, but I've got only my final year, so cheers lads.

 - To be honest I also miss the good old days when nothing mattered as much as our own selves. They say teenagers are the best time of our lives and I can understand why. You have the spending power of an adult yet have the same responsibility a child has. So spend your time to your fullest, my teenage friends.

 - O' Levels. Next year is a paramount year where everything will matter. Unlike STE, this holds a much much bigger impact on my future.  Expect lots of studying, having fun, and more desertions of this blog hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha kidding.

 - Graduation. D-Day cannot come faster. After waiting five years, I've been through a lot in this school, but while I'll miss all my friends and all that sappy stuff, I have to look forward and move on. This isn't to say I'll forget my own school, but moving on never meant forgetting history.

 - WP7.8. This software update, this minor software update, which is less expansive than WP8, is being relelased "early Q1, 2013". Besides the fact that there are WP7.8 devices being sold earlier, this is utter garbage. What's the delay, Microsofties?

 I'll stop here and regulate your food for thought. It's been nice letting everything out. Till next time fellas.