I can't study at home.
Seriously, I can't study at home. I can't do homework in the comforts of my house. The computer is so easily available that even locking myself in my room won't help to distance my heart from it. And I owe Mrs Chew a lot of homework. The TYS, I didn't touch at all. I know something must be done, and that something has to be substantial in chopping down the heaps of homework my back cannot tahan. I know it's Brokeback, but I don't need my condition to deteriorate.
In a desperate attempt to save myself from a certain death from undone homework, I made the rash decision to go to the library alone to do my work. Rash indeed, people in the library all had friends, or chairs. By the way, the Sengkang library sucks: there are no tables, only chairs. There is a cafeteria and of course it's packed. I tried walking around to find places where there's a bench for me to start work on, but alas, there's none to be found. All were occupied.
And I came across this article in which the library printed and pasted on its pillars about what people do in libraries. Somewhere nearby, I saw a couple making out.
Very ironical, but appropriate. The library is definitely a place to make political statements. Thanks for nothing.
So I simply sat at any random spot at any random pillar and set to work. I'm rather much satisfied by myself. The questions I know how to do, I get correct. The ones I don't...never mind. I'm not a depressed writer and thus shall not write anything depressing. But I did the 98 and 99 paper. I feel proud that finally, I have done my outstanding homework. The ones in the in-tray are still existent though. Shut up, I know I'm slack.
And after having done the two papers I went home. The library was too cold for my liking. Rheumatism acting up.
I think I saw Kenny. With two girls. Flirting as usual. I don't really like him, but I don't hate him much either. But I didn't talk to him or made any signs of recognizing him.
Oh and I think I should quit school. Seems like I can be a scriptwriter. John told me to help plot his story about how a malicious rumour ruined a person/project. After killing the fiftieth Moss Giant, I told him to write about this couple of friends who are like the best of friends and all, in the same occupation/CCA, which has something to do with drama. Then they fall out because they're supposed to act as enemies, and the audiences commented that they like really hate each other like that. And spread rumours on them not liking each other because of certain performances in which either outshines his/her counterpart.
I took a step back and saw the shit that was forming. I have yet to answer the question, which is 'ruined'. So I simply shat there and then, banging out 'then they go keesiao and hate each other and go all out to destroy each other, leaving themselves with nothing to their name, ruined'.
I don't know, but I'm sure I'd be able to develop the story even better if there's more time. I mean, with brains like mine, hard not to.
This sounds very mediacorp, but heck. I mean, it satisfies the average 'TV-er', so I guess I can write plots and stories and scripts very much alike those. I'd get money for using my brains, why not?
Oh by the way, have you received the Mas Selamat Kastari picture sent to you by the phone service provider? That's if you have a handphone. They keesiao, sent to around 5.5million subscribers the photo of him. My mother was shocked when she received that MMS. I would be, too.
One more thing to note that I'm cracking up under O's stress--I actually went to the market with my mum this morning. OK, she simply wanted to buy flowers to bring back to her office(for good luck), and I decided to lead a healthy lifestyle that does not include sleeping past 11AM. So I woke up at 8 =.= an amazing feat on a lazy Sunday morning. I am a filial boy, buying flowers and all in the early morning(I know it's not exactly early, shut up).
How can someone as nice as me exist?
And I should patent my nice-ness in the likely event that someone copies me and becomes the next-nicest-person on Earth. I'd have to kill him, and I won't be nice already.
Oh, by the way, I'd just be very random and introduce a rather nice story. I hardly read things, and people can't read me.
Hereit is. I don't know, but I went through all 10chapters. Took me a few hours. OK, I read slow. I'd throw in random stories and links every now and then just for fun.
-- 3/02/2008 08:50:00 PM
