Windows hate me.
I may have lagged. I mean I did, but it's rude for others to point out my shortcomings to me when I already know them.You may have noticed the weird tag on my tagboard. That is a lie, just because I lost a few grams of meat and blood to the floor does not mean that I can't come online. I mean I came online on Thursday night already =.=
To the ignorant ones: I have always had a bad affinity with windows. Last year, JKA pushed me against a window pane and I crashed vertically onto it and slid because of the additional weight behind me. My jaw was hit and my neck was grazed and I was alive because my life is meant for greater things and my death more glorious and sensational than on a window pane of classroom 4-7 in Catholic High School.
It was no exception on Thursday. It was an epic fail moment when I lost my balance and crashed onto the window panes of 32/09's classroom with my bare hands(duh, normal people don't wear gloves in school), and glass shards flew all around me.
So my hard right palm has like 2 marks on it currently, and an abrasion on my right hand. Just a slight grazing, it can move and I can smell the opus because I like smelling pus.
Then I had a chunk of meat taken out of my right forearm. Not exactly a lot of meat but quite a substantial amount, enough to substantiate a trip to the hospital. It bled copiously, as if my iron is free, and the friends around me were all in shock with this epic-fail-state I was in. They told me to cover the bleeding area with my left hand, which I did.
But to no avail, as my blood gushed out of my hand and my hand isn't water/blood-proof, so the blood still splattered out like free. Then they rushed me out of the classroom leaving me slightly bemused by the happenings because I don't yet know the severity of my injuries. It isn't a sign of manliness or indifference at that point, I just didn't know that my bleeding was so serious that it requires professional attention. When I was seated down with the teacher attending to me, I was wondering whether I can go straight home after they stopped the bleeding.
Which happened, because bandages stop bleeding pretty well. It doesn't seal lacerations though. Wait, is that even laceration? Ah never mind about such cheem medical terms. I was just sitting there thinking 'oh shit how about the windows? Do I have to pay for them?', while precious blood was lost to the floor.
It was then I realized that one of the falling glass shards struck my left thigh leaving a gaping crater near the knee. So I was like 'Um..I just found another site of bleeding =\' to the teachers, who attended to it. The bandage fell off from the knee =.= but still an attempt was made.
Fi then accompanied me on Mr. Arthur Lim's car to Raffles Medical, which was a scam because it wasn't open at all when we arrived, and I had to hobble with my more-or-less open wounds hidden only by some pieces of fabric wound around them. It kinda sucked having to hobble around and it kinda hurt too.
Then they opened for us, and the doctor attended to the wound near the knee first. I don't exactly know what he did because I was lying down and he wasn't exactly doing anything special except to clean the wound, disinfect it, clean the wound, change bandages, done. Try to remember this--about what they did.
Then they moved on to my hand. He took off the bandage and I saw the blood gushing out to fill the crater in my arm. It was kinda disturbing to have the dude talk to me about how I cut one of my arteries or main blood vessels, I can't remember which, and seeing the blood flowing out like free(my arm costs a lot of iron to maintain I guess). Then he mentioned something about the window nearly cutting my tendon. I was quite, um, amused by the prospect of saying 'Hi' to my right tendon for the first time in my life so I stared into the crater and flexed my hand, hoping to see some form of reaction, a sign that I actually have a tendon there.
Which happened. The layer of fats surrounding it moved and I saw something sinewy(or maybe that's tough fats). Either way it was quite gross to see cloudy suspensions in the crater that's part of it. It really was quite gross. I know I have tendons but I don't have to see them to believe that I have them, thank you very much.
So they bandaged it up, and informed me that I needed stitches and they can't do anything to help because they don't know if there are glass shards in my knee or not. So they wrote a referral letter I think and gave it to my teacher and charged me around $80. Try to remember this.
And recall what I said earlier. Bandages + alcohol = 80 bucks.
Connect the dots, don't get scammed.
So I was rushed(not exactly rushed) to TTSH A&E, got onto a wheelchair because my knee doesn't feel mobile with a crater, and...yea. I got pushed around. I felt like a pushover =\ but I can't move myself around because...
my right hand is immobile. So I can only push with my left hand, and if I did that I would be moving in circles. Which would get me nowhere so..yea. I got pushed by my mum who arrived and relieved Fi and Mr. Lim of their burden, ie me. Which isn't that bad a thing actually. Then blahblahblah they took off my bandages and checked and sent me for an x-ray and then sent me to get stitched up.
Everywhere I go, I get my bandages removed. OK except for the x-ray corner of course. It was again weird to see my bones. It happened before but it's always weird to see my bones when I've all the while been looking at boners(my own). So whenever they remove my bandages I'd tell my mum to 'don't look'. Try to remember this too.
So when I was finally pushed into the operating theatre(why theatre? The song of life the doctors perform?), I asked the doctor if I should look when he stitches me up. He told me 'I think you should heed the advice you gave your mother'. OK. Yea.
I was anaesthetized(how spell =.=) and the needle poking through hurt like hell. I was clinging onto the theatre bed hard and sweating like mad and scared like shit for fear of pain. I was shivering and they gave me a warm blanket. Which helped a lot. At least it stopped my shivers.
I could still feel the penetration of every layer of my skin as he stitched me up, and at some points it hurts even more because that area may not have been anaesthetized properly.
So...yea. Quite traumatic.
On the wheelchair, I acted like an F1 racer. If people looked at me they would realize why I'm wounded in the first place--doing retarded things.
And the people mistook me for an NS man. As in, if you're in NS and you end up in the hospital, you have your treatment for free. I botak, so they thought that I'm in NS. They told my mum 'don't need pay if your son is in NS, he is, right?', and being honest like I am, she told him no, my son is in J1.
Actually it could be because they wrote my name all over the place when they registered me into the A&E.
So...yea.
Don't think it's healthy to take pictures and upload them. It's really retarded how I had to get stitched up in the first place, really retarded and I'm not very proud of it.
I think I'd blog about Lantern Festival in Rivervale Primary School later or something. The computer hates me and I've just spent the last 10minutes starting at it with it staring back at me.
See. Windows. They hate me.
-- 9/27/2009 02:18:00 AM
Beer + Ahgong = Fun
I was out yesterday night. Went to some dinner at some temple in AMK with my ahgong. It wasn't entirely compulsory, but I felt that it's a good experience to go for another occasion where clambering to bid and thus shorting is a norm.And there's free food there, at least for me.
And there's free beer.
So yea, I went there to help myself. His friends were there too, and although they were around my ahgong's age(duh), they were very fun. I even got challenged to a fight(sort of). His friend was like 'I whack you ah', and my ahgong replied 'Never mind, my grandson will whack you back', to which his friend replied, staring at me, 'OK boy come out now'.
It was quite a funny situation to be in, with a bunch of older people 2 generations away from me. It's quite an honour actually, to be able to sit with people who've more or less experienced Life, who've more or less suffered much hardship in the founding days of Singapore, and like being friends with them and joking with them and serving and being served by them with beer.
Somehow, I just like interacting with older people. They are more matured, and thus are more appropriate targets for conversing with someone of my maturity.
On the way home, the taxi-driver was quite amused by my arguing with my ahgong. He insisted on sending me home first before the taxi goes back to his home. I wanted to send him home first before walking home because I live quite near him anyway.
But apparently 12PM was too late for a grown man like myself to traverse on the dark, treacherous roads.
So I had no choice but to listen, while another 2 ahgong-levelled people sat with us not knowing what to say to stop this rather cute argument but enjoying it and feeling amused nonetheless. It was fun. I was telling my ahgong that I'm not drunk(my movements might show signs of inebriation, but my thoughts are always clear--I counted the number of lanterns on the stage when my ahgong asked me to), and that no one would rape me nor would I rape anyone.
But naw, not enough. So oh wellz.
Got home feeling happy nonetheless (:
I remember I had a cool topic to talk about but I forgot what it was actually.
But talking about cool I think I'm learning how to keep my cool very well.
Like right now, my firefox crashes every sentence I type(am typing an email), and it kinda sucks because I hate things when they lag. I normally get pissed, and start whacking the keyboard and doing drastic stuff like that but...
I've matured as a person and I'm learning to be as stone as a stone, not because that's good but just because I can.
I am quite a control freak. I want things done in my way and I can get pretty obstinate about it. Like in Travian, I'm not ready to compromise easily when I'm confident about a point that I'm trying to bring across. I scare myself at times, then jizz in my pants because I am that orgasmic. OK no link.
And I might be adding my relatives soon. This is weird. Facebook + Relatives = Inhibition. Like, I can't go around with weird status changes anymore. I can't put things like 'sexsexsexsexsex'. Would be very weird for my cousins to see them(my cousins are like...6 years younger and more).
So...yea. Back to school. =.=
-- 9/21/2009 08:05:00 PM
It's supposed to be PE.
Education takes my balls by its..balls and freezes them.Seriously.
I am quite fine with running 2.4, 2.8, 3.2, 3.6, 4.2, blahblahblah(in short, I am OK with running). Although I hate running, I am OK with it because running is beneficial to my body after all, y'know, with vague references to a better stamina and better life in NS.
I am OK with having to do shitloads of sit-ups, and push-ups, and pull-ups. Although I seriously hate moving, I am more or less OK with it.
I prefer like stoning at a stationary position doing something I love, like homework, tutorials, masturbation, etc. But during PE, when we are forced to move, I am OK with that.
So uh now we're supposed to do something crazy during PE. We just learnt how to do line dance this morning(second period of the first day of school, imagine how emasculating it is). I feel like I've lost a ball. PE and dance does not go together.
Why are we doing line dance during PE when we are Asians and should do something more Eastern?
No...why are we even doing DANCE during PE, where guys are supposed to get more manly than they were and women are supposed to transform into gorillas?
Fuck this bullshit. I want my games. I want my chouckball(however you spell it), I want my basketball, I want my ball games, I want my balls back.
Seriously. I've never wanted to fall-out so much before. Doing crazy shit during PE that taxes my body and kills my lungs is OK, and I won't like fall-out like a pussy because I am tough and prideful, but doing something this derogatory to men makes me feel like getting an MC every Mondays and Thursdays.
I am OK with male dancers. I mean, it's what they chose to do. I don't want to dance AT ALL. It's emasculating when a man is forced to do something he doesn't want to do.
I can just picture myself handing an MC to a teacher, telling him that I 'cannot dance because I sprained an ankle'. Then juxtapose that to me doing all that crazy shit and not pussying out even when teachers ask me to.
This is the picture of tough. This is the picture of Alastair.
I DON'T FUCKING WANT TO DANCE.
And I think they do couple dance on afternoon sessions. Someone save me.
-- 9/14/2009 08:11:00 PM
To fart or not to fart that is the question althought there are no question marks.
I watched a show on Channel8 once, it was 幸福双人床. They stated differences between males and females, and interesting facts that discern between genders.An example would be farting. So Tay Ping Hui was in the lift with his wife whose name escapes me, when he breaks wind. The people in the lift looks at him, and he tried to look innocent and pointed vaguely at another dude in the lift.
Then there were words on the side of the screen writing something like 'Women fart on average 7 times per day; Men fart on average 12 times per day.'
I'm facing that problem these days. I don't understand why people are so disgusted when I break wind. It's flatulence, something I can't help, and although yes, I can choose to try to hold it in, there are times when my rectal muscles simply do not have the strength to withhold the inevitable, or when the pressure builds up so quickly that it comes out before I could respond.
Let's face it, everyone farts. I'm not the kind who'd mince over my words, and I'm not the kind who'd hold back my farts. Farting is like burping--natural. Farting is like blinking--natural. Farting is like breathing--natural. What's wrong with being the caveman I am? >(
So anyway, it's normal for guys to fart more on average than women. It is normal that all farts smell the same. Just because a woman lets loose doesn't mean that it's nice to smell, and just because a man lets loose doesn't mean that it'd kill you. It's like shitting, all shits smell the same. Public toilets discriminates between males and females--but not the smell.
For the slow, what I'm saying here is that farts from a male and female smells the same--do not think too highly of yourself due to more personal hygiene or something along those lines.
Another thing I'd like to say about this is that we are all polite around strangers. We keep our hair up, our dicks down, our attire proper in front of authorities.
Let's say that you're having a lesson with a teacher you're familiar with. You'd adopt your favourite position, perhaps comb your hair, make noise and ask questions when you feel like it, and charge your phone(OK that's for me).
But when your principal walks in, the class dynamics change. The atmosphere becomes heavy, everyone is sitting upright, no one would dare to comb his/her hair, and asking questions is tough because it's weird to ask questions in front of a complete stranger/authority figure. Charging your phone is out of the question too, because it's school electricity you're talking about.
Now let's change it to an everyday context. You're with your friends. You are slouching with them in Macdonalds, making noise and having fun and eating in the most unglamorous way possible because you're comfortable with them. You let loose a burp after a sip of your favourite drink--Coke, and they laugh at the mayonnaise(heh I spell correctly right?) at the sides of your mouth. Then you lick it away with your tongue because you're comfortable with letting your friends see the full length of your exposed shaft, I mean, tongue. Then you carry on eating and burping and licking away mayonnaise from the sides of your mouth.
Throw in a stranger, a friend of a friend that you don't know. Add in the fact that the person is from the opposite sex. You wouldn't be making noise and having fun eating in the most unglamorous way possible because you're afraid to create a bad impression on this random second-degree friend. You try to hold back the burp after drinking your favourite drink--Coke, because burping is rude. You'd try to make sure that all the mayonnaise and incriminating evidence of your food-consuming habits would be gone with every bite and swallow, because you do not want this second-degree friend to see you with food debris on your mouth/white-white stuff which could look rather wrong. Even if mayonnaise does get to the sides of your mouth, you would not stick out your tongue to lick it off, to consume it, because it's rude. You would take a piece of tissue paper and wipe the white stuff off your face.
Why this comparison? For the slow--I'm just saying that you won't be as natural as you are in the presence of people who make you feel unnatural.
So picture this: Alastair in his class, where everyone is his classmates and he is comfortable with everyone. He farts and laughs about it, disgusting everyone in the process but being indifferent about it because he's never apologetic when he breathes.
Then picture this: Alastair with a girl he doesn't really know, holding back his fart because he doesn't want to create a bad impression of him on her because they are unfamiliar to the point of being complete strangers. He can't really 'be himself' or 'natural' because of the unfamiliarity of the situation.
I think that being natural around you friends is the greatest recognition you can give them. 'Hi, you're my friend so I'd be frank', or something along those lines. You do not fear being around them, you do not fear offending them because they are your friends and you know that you have them as long as you do not offend them to an extreme extent.
A friend is someone you can truly let yourself loose with. Someone you are comfortable with. So yea, if you can't fart in front of me then perhaps you aren't that comfortable with me.
But then again it's a problem of threshold. Some people have a low tolerance for such 'comfortability' tests. Like, perhaps a rapist would rape all his friends because he is being 'natural' like that, but the raped friends of his won't like it definitely. It's a give and take thing and I'm not the kind to compromise my natural urges(not the sexual kind).
Hmm. This is definitely a more..balanced post than: http://rawr-barney.blogspot.com/2008/10/fark-you.html
Holy shit I used the same sexample.
-- 9/11/2009 11:43:00 AM
Airport.
So right now I'm at the airport at 3:00AM, typing this heartfelt blogpost. Not sexactly heartfelt, but more of angst-filled.I really wonder why they bother locking up all the sockets in the airport. It made me play treasure hunt throughout T3 and T2(ie wasted 40mins of my time walking around hunting for nothing).
It's like they(Changi Airport) have some form of obsession, a keesiaoness within them, to give everything that has a hole a chastity belt. I was hard put to find a socket to charge my sis' laptop(because I'm using it now, duh, who blogs using airport computers), and I was contemplating destroying those chastity belts with brute force, just because I can. Seriously. I saw 2 cases of such vandals in one sitting(ie tonight), and I didn't join in because I was shy and I didn't want to get into trouble over such a small and simple matter of charging of a laptop battery. I mean it's pointless not to mention stupid to get into trouble with airport authorities when you can just choose not to use the laptop and go like sleep or study or do something else that starts with S and ends with EX.
But really, the sheer perseverance in 'chastitising' all the sockets really shocked me. I was hoping that there'd be a lapse in the workers' ability to ensure that every hole is covered and none could be penetrated but as things turned out that was not to be the case. They really did a good job covering their asses, but this coverage did nothing to improve our airport ranking right?
I think that these ranking criteria should add in the 'accessibility of electricity' factor in. I was wandering about Raffles Place MRT station when I realized that I ran out of phone battery and I needed to contact my friends. So how? Fuck, I just took out my charger and my two-pin plug and charged outside the MRT station. Crowds walked by and I didn't give a shit about them because I'm cool and cool people don't give a shit about other lameshit walking around. If I were to rate MRT stations I'd say that Raffles Place MRT station is the best.
See the power accessibility has over people? If I can get my pussy here easily, I'd come here to get my pussy next time. Same works for power plugs. Common sense rules this world, and it isn't worth getting into trouble with the airport ranking authorities over silly little things like electricity bills of a minor population of chargers.
We'd see that all these chastity belts would be removed with almost-immediate effect. Oh, the multitude of orgasms this act would grant upon us should this 'factor' be pushed through successfully into the ranking authorities.
Oh by the way I'm here just to send a teacher off. She's going back to California(she's angmoh), and she flies at 5am. =\
Here ends the fun.
Oh wait she should be the highlight of the post instead of my inability to find a socket.
So here's to her: Cheers for being a great teacher. Although she was quite slack, she managed to make us do our work because we'd feel guilty not doing our work. This being my first year taking Lit, she made the subject fun for me too. And although I can't really score well(ie am doing badly) for it now, I'd improve.
Life is interesting in the amount of welcomes and farewells it puts into you and your inconsequential existence.
Oh on a completely different note(this has nothing to do with airports and electricity and laptops), I was approached by a gay in a toilet. He asked me to suck his cock. I couldn't really reply because I didn't know how to reply him when he was in mid-stream and when I was prepared to shoot my load and relieve myself.
No I'm fucking serious about this incident in case you were wondering if I were lying. I'm not, it's just that I'm not sextremely traumatized by it(if I were I probably won't be talking about it at all). Let me carry on.
So he whipped out his whip and started to pee, and this conversation ensued:
Him: You do this before?
Me: No.
Him: So this be your first time?
Me: ....no.
Him: Look, I'm getting hard..(;
Me: No actually I'm down.
Him: Really..?
After which he made his attempt to grab at my sizeable bulge(sizeable despite being down. Imagine it in full glory). It's be scary. I scare myself at times =\
So anyway, I managed to preserve my dicknity by moving away fast enough so that his hands were only able to graze my pants which covered the sizeable bulge aforementioned.
It was an interesting experience, because...it just is. I don't get nearly raped everyday.
So after his attempt to grab my dick I just walked out. I wanted to pee but I didn't have the mood to after that.
Then again, being able to talk about such a disturbing encounter is quite disturbing in its own right, no?
Life is interesting in the amount of random shit it puts you through.
-- 9/10/2009 03:00:00 AM
Michael died...=\
Women are born bitches.Seriously.
Drama serials reflects Life in general, and although we may not see mafia bosses killing each other everyday in gangfights and shootouts(unlike in Facebook), the values reflected in drama serials are very true for humans in general.
Back to the point. Women are born bitches.
I was watching The Unforgettable Memory yesterday. Let's name the dudes there A, B, C, D, E
A is B's son. A and B are enemies of C, D, E.
C, D, E cornered B in some ruins, because all gunfights and shootouts between mafia happens in ruins. E had to leave halfway to rush to the airport to catch his ex-wife from leaving(they are deeply in love), and left C and D to fight B, who was already severely wounded and running out of bullets and cornered. A was driving around, not there yet.
Suddenly, C's wife appeared because she 'feared for his safety'. At that moment, B knew that he could hold her hostage, which he did.
Then he killed C.
E rushed to the hospital just after C died, and C's wife was blaming E for everything that happened, like 'WHY DID YOU LEAVE? IF YOU HADN'T C WOULDN'T HAVE DIED!!!111!!!'
But really, common sense would tell us that E leaving is a commonsensical thing to do. His beloved is leaving the country, leaving their past behind, and B was cornered, bleeding, dying, while C and D were perfectly fine.
So D was still left alive because C killed B in his dying moment. D just stoned there throughout as C's wife hit E.
But what the fuck? If you didn't come out to extra, your husband wouldn't have died in the first place. Why blame others when it's apparently your own fault for appearing and becoming a fucking hostage for the enemy to hold your husband ransom over?
Here's another value reflected: Guys are born to be bullied. So E just stood there letting C's wife scold him, and beat him.
No one would tell C's wife that it's her own fault that C died, because it's always better for a girl to be angry with another person than self-reproachful.
Sigh. Life.
And I took many pictures of B in his dying moments, as he told his son about how sorry he was for screwing up his life and originally kind nature. =\
B is my MSN display picture in case you don't know.
-- 9/08/2009 07:22:00 PM
Why fly?
Flight has always been on the wishlist of humans for a long time.I remember reading up somewhere on a crazy guy who attached wing-like structures to his hands and flapping them crazily to no avail.
But why this infatuation with flight? Why do humans want to fly?
1) Because they are envious of a movement they cannot imitate. You don't see people being envious of fishes, because humans can swim. They want gills, but they've got oxygen tanks(why am I writing in 3rd person =.=). So there's nothing about fishes worthy of humans' jealousy.
2) They want to feel free. Realize that all the songs sung in the hopes of freedom have vague references to caged birds, or clipped wings in general? Yea, you got the point. They don't want to feel trapped, they don't want to feel human anymore, so they resort to becoming a bird. I can see the logic.
But if humans were able to fly, the world would be largely different.
1) There would be no need for public transport. Why take MRTs or buses when you can fly to where you want? For me, I sometimes get pissed when my bus takes damn long to arrive. I think that's true for most people. So I'd be hoping to fly home because I don't want to wait for such a long time, except that instead of flying I hope to be able to teleport, or move as fast as Flash(ers). The concept of life without a need of transport is really boner-inducing, at least for me.
Omg I can fly? WHO CARES ABOUT SMRT/SBS IF I CAN FLY?
2) There's no need for lifts. Why bother building a lift when you can fly? OK, perhaps the older population would have troubles flying up 16 floors, but I think old birds are more sexperienced at flying? Fuck age, aging doesn't occur on wings. Then people won't be able to hold other people hostage with denial of lift upgrades.
Lifts? Elevators? Escalators? What are those things?
3) There's no need for cars. Why bother wasting all those money on fuel, COE, the car itself, and road tax, parking coupons, blahblahblah when you can fly? Oh, need to get to Orchard Road to shop for stuff? FLY BIRDIE FLY. Don't worry about the weight of the goods you purchase it'd somehow get home with you, or perhaps every shop should hire a strong human who can fly fast. Then it's called a delivery service, and there'd be more jobs for people because the number of Uncle Sams(traffic policmen I think), and those summon-coupon aunties would lose their jobs but they can fly around sending goods, which would be just as good.
Parking lots? Delivery services? Who cares?
4) What, think I'd miss it? Was cursing me when you read that I missed that out on point 3? BULLSHIT. If humans were able to fly, there's no need for ERP. Those expensive gantries would not be erected. More money saved for people. Everyone happy all over the place.
ERP? More like A--ERP(Alastair--Everyday Rape People).
5)
No more Red Bull.
Yesterday was...quite fun. OK. End of story. And on the bus home I was listening to the hypnotic humming of the bus engine of 156. The diligent droning of the bus as it worked to carry me(and the other commuters) home was certainly...hypnotic. It reminded me of the time I've wasted, the opportunities lost, the battles I've fought and lost in my entire life. It was kind of an interesting experience, seated on the bus hugging my Beloved with closed eyes, letting the sounds of the other commuters, the bus, the entire environment, wash over me. I didn't bother setting up my earphone because I knew I'd sleep soon--it was a tiring day, tiring in many aspects.
And I did.
Therapeutic. Better than humans.
-- 9/05/2009 10:42:00 PM
Footwear.
So I was walking to my Ahma's house with my trusty old slippers in the rain. No, it's not that I'm emo or depressed or what, but because it was a light drizzle and light drizzles can't make me sicker than I already am in the mind.Why am I talking about my walk to my Ahma house and why did I talk about my trusty old slippers in the rain? It's because my slippers squelch when sexposed to water. It makes the same noise as those after-a-shower-wear-slippers kind of noise. The squelchy sounds were orgasmic.
Why?
Because it reminded me of times during camps. It's been such a long time since I've been in an actual camp. I used to hate camps, because of one failed P5 camp experience when I was a P5, and I didn't enjoy BURST camp either. In fact, I didn't enjoy going camps at all. I thought it a waste of time, a waste of a few days of my life, those precious hours that would never come back to me no matter how much I beg the hour-glass.
Then it became us running camps. I enjoy running camps, because that means we can take our shower at any hour we want. It was fun, bathing at unearthly hours with everyone else, talking in the toilet which only had us, and...
wearing those squelchy slippers which have survived me for the past camps I've attended, which isn't numerous but quite an amount nevertheless.
So I kept squelching my slippers in the loudest way possible, and it can be quite loud. It'd have been weird if anyone were beside me listening to how much noise the rubber below my soles can make, because friction was appreciated for once in these few weeks(I'm having a persistent bout of abrasion).
I hit the mud on my way. I was reminded of my shoes, and how much they experience with me. I believe that footwear should be given more recognition and more appreciation than they are right now. Like, shoes shouldn't be worn to school. Shoes are meant for greater things, like camps, excursions, hikes. Wearing shoes to school only to wear them back home on the public/private transport we have.
I never liked new shoes. I never like things that haven't seen fire. I don't want to wear my shoes out in school. I want to let my shoes do more than protect my soles when I go to school. I want them to smell life. Like the hike to CCAC, I have those shoes which failed me eventually. They got completely destroyed(partly due to kayaking too), and well, good for them! They lived a life worthy of tales to share to prosperity.
No one gives shoes enough recognition. It's like Buy And Throw Away. No one really gives a fuck about what they do for us, because we paid for them and we should be paying more attention to what pays for the shoes. Which makes sense but oh well.
I just think that life as a pair of shoes is sad. =\
Something completely unrelated to shoes. Trust.
I think that trust is a very stressful thing. It just is. If you don't know a person well and that person tells you everything about him, including his love life and worries, you'd feel weird right? The stress kicks in: Why is he telling you everything, what does he hope to get from you, and what can you give him?
That is 'trust'. Why would I want to know someone when he suddenly spams me with this shitload of trust? I mean, friendship is a relationship of mutual benefit, if he uses me to such an extent before I use him I won't want to get to know him well enough for him to use me even further, right? I make perfect sense here, applause please.
That's why it's disturbing when some random stranger goes up to you and says 'Hi'. You feel obliged to respond, not because you want to but because it'd be weird and rude not to. But relations would be strained--you forced a reply. Not good.
Trust is therefore a form of stress. You need to know what to do with the knowledge you got, and to what extent you can believe in the source, and to infer what the informant wants you to do with that information. Stress.
-- 9/01/2009 09:06:00 PM