Wednesday, August 25, 2004

midpoint.

Yeah yeah I know this is my virgin post, but I'm not going to launch it by justifying why I started a blog. Most bloggers seem to begin by stating their respective reasons for putting their lives out on the Net for others to read, willingly promoting a voyueristic culture.


It's funny: when did privacy become such an indiscreet commodity?


Semi-contradicted myself, didn't I. Ah well.


Ramblings aside, this has been one helluva day. Woke up late for school (this despite a wake-up call, I'm horrible). Only 2hrs of sleep due to the incessant barking from the insane Jack Russell. Aka Bubu. (Or rather, Booboo.) The shock of seeing my mum's horrendously expensive and ugly purchases from Shanghai. Misplaced my passport. Being bullied by the prata man. To culminate matters, I nearly lost my appetite for supper (yummy prata n curry chicken) after coming face-to-face with the ravaged remnants of a cockroach on the sofa. Its feelers were later found to be decorating Bubu's jaw.


Now that, was traumatic.


What really irked me, was the realization that today was the midpoint of my teaching attachment at B Sec Sch. Poised right at the centre.


Time is passing too slowly for my liking, and too fast as well.


The attachment isn't half bad. It's just the damned chore of waking up at unearthly hours in the morning, having to live by a fixed timetable again, and the projects. Different sets of expectations according to different hierachial authorities.

When someone constructs and builds a house, which comes first? Design and search for suitable material? Or work with your available material to come up with a suitable design?


I guess there really isn't any correct answer, but a balance between the two options would be a fair gauge and obvious response to this question. But what do you do when they are at opposite ends of the spectrum and there really isn't any middle ground?


Also, I've reaffirmed once again that I am a conservative and conventional idiot. I just can't seem to come up with 'innovations' and 'progressive ideas'. I won't give up, but I know it's not a strong part of my genetic make-up. I'm more of an analyst than a composer, deriving a sadistic pleasure from breaking things down. With my destructive nature, asking me to come up with original and inventive ideas is anathema to my central being.


A major factor is also because it requires too much thinking. And I can't be bothered most of the time.


I'm going to make the best of it though, and try to make my time in B Sec Sch worthwhile. I'm already halfway through anyway.


Trying to convince myself that the glass of water isn't half empty, but half full.

she procrastinated @ 01:08 |

blueprint

I will like to spend my days, as though they are my own, which I mostly end up doing in halves, for duty beckons, and I am answering its clarion call. Soon enough! I am also a veteran procrastinator.

fresh monodies

previous rants

August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
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March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
November 2010
January 2011
February 2011
August 2011
October 2011
May 2013

treatises on life

arty jen
betty boop
carmentica
charming-linn
chasing snowy cars
cheeky lynn
cheryliciously glam
clean and cute
cyclist-mad bass
darling dominic
feisty jing
fellow ditz-sista/porkSTAR
hail mary!
hell's kitchen
hero on the beach
h-Euge heart
hunky lenny
lipgloss queen
little cheryl
live n learn, baby
lolita lou
loony loon
mr popular
musically dan
m y s t j
phringe
princess tania
roger smurf
runaway pigeon
sabotage king jeremiah
sibling angst1
sibling angst2
spector dan
spunky tian
steffy bunny
sun-sunzzz
teeny wee-nee
weeeee, leonard!
yangtze yang'en

frivolous pursuits

for shallow ppl
for very geeky ppl
for the truly bored
spun prose
binary thoughts
past imprints
some stamps
montage of images
other memories

mulling over

"One is wicked, because one see things clearly." - Beaumarchais's Le nozze di Figaro.

And there were phlegmatic souls.