Spent the day reading through all the letters in my mailbox. Bills, newsletters and ads flooded every inch of the little space that i shared with the dozens of households in the block. This is probably how much junk mail one can expect after losing the only key to the box and fixing it a month later.

Let's see what are the kind of stuff we get daily. Bills from PUB urging you to pay up your outstanding electricity bills, reminders (or "red letters") threatening to cut your supplies if you don't, telephone bills from Singtel and Starhub, Town Council letters, school fees from Republic Poly (for my brother), HDB bills etc etc. This does not include the wide variety of printed ads ranging from real estate, tuitions, spa sessions, KFC coupons, Burger King's discounts, donations forms... The biggest occupants includes magazines and newletters from Pioneer, NSman, CDans, Woodlands Focus, Cohesion, Sembawang News and the ever-regular Court's "XX sale" booklets.

There's a fundamental difference between junk mails in the mailbox and my email. How I wished I could clear everything with just a click with my finger. Oh well, just my luck for losing my mailbox key...

Deleted the previous entry.

I decided not to disclose too much about my own life to those unseen viewers out there. Didn't want too many people to know what kind of problems I face, so that they will not view me differently because of my background. I just want to be like everyone else, to be ordinary. I shall remain an engima till then.

Everything in life moves in a cycle, there's a cause and an effect. If I feel depressed, this despondancy will result in more dejection, thereby making my short-lived life more miserable. This vicious cycle will forever continue until the day I can break out of it. As such, I decided to take things in my stride and see things positively. It's a tough job, considering that I'm a pessimist in nature. But I'll work things out, sooner or later.

Had a discussion with the rest about what we're going to do after NS. They can't really think of anything that I, as an FASS graduate will be able to do in the future other than a teacher. Even I myself have some problems imagining my future road. Is teaching the only way out?

Despite being a idealist, I guess that's the probable road down for me. Practicality and Idealism doesn't really mix in this world. Didn't really feel that teaching is the right career for me, but I can't find any other alternatives. I need some advice...

I shall put them aside for now. Too tired to think about these after the energy-consuming drill session. Got basic theory test tomorrow morning too, do wish me luck. Meeting the sec sch gang too for some belated birthday celebrations too. Will update soon...

"The Day When Everything Went Wrong" was the title of the essay my sis needed help in. I was kinda stuck at first, since it's been a long time I had a very strong inspiration to write creatively. But that day came eventually. Today.

I had this overwhelming inspiration to write a poem about this person in mind, whom i shall call S (lest it becomes too direct and create some embarrassment, but i'll provide hints). S is the perfect person for me to refer to as the "Computer Man". His life is programmed to the point of perfection, a flawless prototype of a new generation of "AI". Mutiple fine-tuning sessions completely removed all forms of blemishes within him, so he will only do anything that is mathematically installed. No arguments, no non-compliance with general order, no shortcuts, no time to slack, NO !!!

Enough of all these mindless ramblings. I shall stop before I explode and disintegrate into html codes.

Went for ippt this morning, only to find that all efforts gone to waste due to CAT1. Maybe I'm just not fated to pass this time. Sad coincidence that everytime I attempt, it will always rain. Tried to be optimistic but suffered another blow when we (andy and I) went to the canteen and nothing was left (maybe except for some plain eggs and leftover rice). What's worst is that I realised I'm out of cash (temporarily) and almost had no money to get home. Luckily I still had coins to tide through.

Everything in neopets went wrong too. Just didn't have the luck to get any freebies. Even my portfolio in the stock market fell significantly. Need to check back once again after I come back in 2 days time. Nothing seems to go in the right direction today.


Hey, I just got a free codestone from Tombola. At least something good happened before the day ended...

my 80th post and i decided to make it special (after all NDP is coming)...

"I am Singaporean, so say we all"

After spending the past 20 days involved in activities like sleeping in the day, doing duties and staying up late nights chasing the euphoria of the World Cup, it's finally over. It's about time to get some well-derserved rest from soccer, at least for now.

I'm still suffering from the aftershock from the finals. Totally dumbfounded by the actions of Zidane which eventually resulted in his send-off. This Zizou is not the one I know. What a way to end his international career with such an astonishing appearance.

Took some time off to visit mrbrown.com for yet another of his distinctive podcasts. Another startling news that I uncovered (or maybe I haven't been reading the news for some time). It so appears that mrbrown's column been sanctioned from TODAY after his article (which I found to be quite entertaining) Singaporeans are fed up with progress. wonder why?

What an insightful "documentation of the dysfunctional side of Singapore life".

Here's a little story i found from my bookshelves. Do spend time reading and ponder over it (while i come up with plans for activities that may prove worthy mentioning)...

Flying

Roger Dean Kiser

Once upon a time there was a little boy who was raised in a orphanage.

The little boy had always wished that he could fly like a bird. It was very difficult for him to understand why he could not fly. There were birds at the zoo that were much bigger than he, and they could fly.

"why can't I?" he thought. "Is there something wrong with me?" he wondered.

There was another little boy who was crippled. He had always wished that he could walk and run like other little boys and girls.

One day the little orphan boy who had wanted to fly like a bird ran away from the orphanage. He came upon a little boy who could not walk or run playing in the sandbox.

He ran over to the little boy and asked him if he had ever wanted to fly like a bird.

"No," said the little boy who could not walk or run. "But I have wondered what it would be like to walk and run like other boys and girls."

"That is very sad." said the little boy who wanted to fly. "Do you think we could be friends?" he said to the little boy in the sandbox.

"Sure." said the little boy.

The two little boys played for hours. They made sand castles and made really funny sounds with their mouths. Sounds which made them laugh real hard. Then the little boy's father came with a wheelchair to pick up his son. The little boy who had always wanted to fly ran over to the boy's father and whispered something into his ear.

"That would be OK, " said the man.

The little boy who had always wanted to fly like a bird ran over to his new friend and said, " You are my friend and I wish that there was something that I could do to make you walk and run like other little boys and girls. But I can't. But there is something I can do for you."

The little orphan turned around and told his new friend to slide up onto his back. He then began to run across the grass. Faster and faster he ran, carrying the little crippled boy on his back. Faster and harder he ran across the park. Harder and harder he made his legs travel. Soon the wind just whistled across the two little boys' faces.

The little boy's father began to cry as he watched his beautiful little crippled son flapping his arms up and down in the wind, all the while yelling at the top of his voice,

"I'M FLYING, DADDY. I'M FLYING!"