Talk about a tiring day. Sometimes, I wonder whether we're at army to actually learn stuff more, protect the country, do battle.. Or just training to be rubbish cleaners. Sweepers. Maybe just to build up our patience. I mean, it's all right for Regulars; you guys actually like regimentation. Saluting, rank, all that usual army stuff. That's why signing on made sense anyway. Unfortunately, we are just little NSFs. Ignorant and fresh little twerps. We aren't made to comprehend how sergeants and warrants think. I'm pretty certain I'm not going to grow up to be an oil disposal guy at any rate; maybe FF does, but he's just, well, his namesake. Call me fastidious, or maybe even neurotic. But today was seriously a waste of time.. releasing us at 1915 isn't the best way to boost our morale, no matter how garang we might appear. As for picking the meat of some skimpy bones, often one must realise that considering circumstances and various changes in situations might actually be of some use. Me and my buddies do not slack.. we are always the first to volunteer for any odd jobs. Just ask our trainee-sergeants.

Strangely, having said all this, I don't really blame Master. Rather, somewhat screwed-up systems can be a nuisance.

IPPT tomorrow. Haven't been feeling very well lately.. hence I've got this feeling I'm going to find some excuse and give it a miss. I mean, after carrying all that food, it's a miracle I haven't broken or twisted my spine. Anyway, the more immediate threat remains the flu virus. It's damn irritating, the weather.. one moment it can be bright sunshine, no clouds, endless blue sky, birds singing.. then everything turns the exact opposite. Then the soaked birds come to our canteen and unleash a wave of bird-waste. My point is, I'm down with flu and mild fever. My mucus is green. What more can I say.

~

NJ weiqi has a new head. A new generation has spawned, so I guess it's not going to die out after all. As many have put it, the birth of NJ weiqi is a classic in it's own right. And it does feel a little cool to be the guy who started it all.

Just a little.

~

Wonder what's all the fuss about Star Wars.. The big hoo-hah is dying down already, yet I still resent the attention this franchise has enjoyed. Don't get me wrong. I AM a Star Wars fan. I always wanted to be Luke Skywalker, waving my lightsaber about and cutting down evil baddies.. for those who label Luke as a wimp, speak for yourselves. Anyway, Revenge of the Sith is probably a great movie for most superficial fans. Those who enjoy dashing anti-heroes such as Anakin.. The thing is, the story has already developed to the point where Vader has been dead for like 20 years? Luke already has a wife.. some really powerful, and beautiful, Jedi called Mara Jade, who also coincidentally happens to be Palpatine's ex-assassin. Chewbecca's left us; so has one of Leia's children. Kyp Durron happens to be the next most powerful Jedi. And ya, there's much more.

The thing is, Anakin wasn't the One. At least not the one to do good. It was Luke. Anakin's role was to balance the Force, because it was too shifted on the side of the good.. And by the way, if Anakin's potential was the most a Jedi ever had, his son had probably at least twice the power. Beat that.

Jedi sounds really neat. Some alien life-form or something. Use the force. Use the force. For what, does a lightsaber come in for anyway.

~

Guess what I'm thinking of for my birthday present. Shouldn't take any moron too long, so hope you guys don't take too much longer than him.

Anyway, let's just forget it.

Today I caught a little guy. He was hiding behind a bush, his little fluffy wings folded neatly on his back. In his hand held a bow, an arrow aimed directly at some couple which matters not in this story. Anyway, to cut the tale short, I pounced onto him:


Jx: "Dude! Are you the Mr Cupid?"

Cupid (shaking the dust off his diapers, cross look on his face): "Yea I am. Wadya want, punk?"

Jx: *kicks the poor misunderstood chap on the arse*

Cupid: "OW! What the ****?!"

Jx: "That's for all the pain and depression YOU caused me!" *choke-slams Cupid rather hard*

Cupid: "K-k-kid. You've got it all wrong. Listen -"

Jx: "Listen to your lame excuses? How 'bout you listen to this." *boxes Cupid on the ears*

Cupid (ears turning red): "Please.. stop! Okay, anywhere but the face.."

*Jx squeezes Cupid's cheeks*

Jx (enraged mode): "You made me fall for the one girl which I would never reach. What kind of stupid angel are you anyway? Taxpayer money wasted on fiends like you!"

Cupid: "W-wot?"

Jx: "Friendship and something more. You know it was never going to work out, didn't you.. of all the people, you had to choose her!" *upper-cuts Cupid in the tummy*

Cupid (question mark slowly dissolving over his head): "OoFFF!.. OHhh.. that one.What are you hitting me for?"

Jx: "Some professional you are!" *head butts Cupid*

Cupid (dazed): "But dude, I found your dream girl. Wad more do ya want??"

Jx: "'COS I can't lose her?"

Cupid (realisation dawning on his chubby fave): "Huh?! You haven't told her?"

Jx: "Wow.. lucky guess. I'll let you off since you're so intelligent."

*Jx hangs Cupid on a nearby tree, socks him in the stomach, and starts to walk away*


Cupid (breathless, foam dripping from the side of his mouth): "Kid. Have you ever blamed anyone else but yourself?"

*no reply*

Cupid: "No sincerity. No confidence. And you stood her up! Twice! What do you expect?"

*no reply*

Cupid: "You never told her anything. Always too afraid. If you want to maintain the distance, what can she do? She's a girl, you dope!"

*no reply*

Cupid (red-faced now): "Running away again ya? Always, when there was the chance, you shy away. How many arrows do you want? Even if she doesn't like you the way you feel towards her, she has a choice? What can you give her, I'd like to know? NS boy.. you can't even spare the time. Do you even bother?"

*stone flies out of nowhere, hits Cupid square in the face*

Cupid: "#!%?&!! You haven't the guts! To face yourself. Treat her like a stranger, and expect more in return? Loser! **** How can you expect her to be there for you, when you're never there for her? I wasted one arrow on ya!"

*disappearing shadow in the distance*

Cupid *panic rapidly showing*: "Hey man! What about me? Lemme down! My wings are fake, I can't fly! Dude -"


I should have strangled him there and then. Ah well. Next time.

~

I always thought the doorway to the world of Literature would always be open. Apparently it's not. At least the teacher's good. Danielle must have thought I was some moron; I totally agree.

Two years of empty space. 7 months to make it all. Wondering if it's my route after all. Come to think of it, I've got two lit experts to assist me; Teck, el PSC scholar, being the other. I can't fail, can I?

=(

~

Swimming, pool tomorrow.. Life without her is the life as I know it. I just wish it was different.

It hasn't been that good a week. I guess.. maybe the initial high as worn off. It always threatened to. But never expected the process to be so fast. I mean, it's a gigantic load off my shoulders. Think 90%. So I thought.

First up, I'm never watching soccer again. The pact was made in jest.. but I feel I must honour it. After all, I really never expected Liverpool to win either the league title or the Champions Cup in my lifetime. I've hated them since I was 135 cm tall, and seeing that I have grown neary 37 cm taller, it's about time then. To stop watching soccer. All the old guns are either half-crippled, or retired. The big teams aren't living up to their high expectations.. and all the big matches stink of match-fixing. What about my team Milan? They don't deserve to lose, but they did. Where's the justice.. I know this is childish whining, but Liverpool aren't supposed to win. They're supposed to be L-O-S-E-R-S.

That's enough to make anyone pissed. I'm no exception. Losing this afternoon's soccer match because of some selfish team mate doesn't make things better.

I'm getting closer to the conclusion that she doesn't want to be with me. That's fine really. But I don't know why I feel so sore inside. I used to think it was okay.. but now I feel like crap. I really do. The general advice is to be direct about it. It is good advice.. but I can't take it. I'm going to feel like shit for the rest of the 2 years I think.

I should be happy that I'm potentially going to score for my ippt. Silver? I can't believe it.. 9 pull-ups. 234 cm for standing broad jump. 10:45 for 2.4 km run. But my sit-ups are suspect, and I haven't exactly run under 10 secs since BMT.

And there's Lit tuition tomorrow. Leon's friend, another S paper student, who's charging a bomb for inexperienced teaching at best.. I'll give her a chance.

So much for an entry after 4 days. It doesn't even sound sad enough. But it feels tired though.

Should I, or shouldn't I.. That has always remained the perennial question. If I was a director of a movie destined for the label of a "romantic flick", there are two possible routes which can be undertaken. Personally, I prefer sad, dramatic endings. Most though would go all out for a showdown, which inevitably a happy ending must come together as part of the package. And who can blame them?

However, as it's a real life situation, and since it concerns the most important person in my life.. I'll have to sacrifice my petty whims for a more practical and beneficial scenario. Going with the crowd has never been to my taste.. exceptions are less rare.

Anyway, it seems easy to say go all out for someone you like. I guess there's a reason why guys are males and girls are females. Evelyn Waugh prefers them to be distinct through behavior - static and dynamic.. I was hooked on this fresh and fascinating viewpoint for a good part of the last few weeks. But the thing is, we really think differently. The two different sexes, much as they would like to protest, really do not comprehend what the opposite actually thinks and feels. Since I'm not an amoeba like some of my friends (I still want my life, so no names. Think Reubs), I can only defend the interest of my fellow men. I think we have to clarify this point about our stand on relationships.

Perhaps most girls think we aren't serious about them. When you listen to their explanations, or rather complains, one might be suayed to their side. Wishy-washy, indecisive, hesitant.. maybe even averse. Just some of the words used to describe us. A more faint-hearted chap might wither under the criticism.. end up wondering for the rest of his life whether he actually killed his own chances of winning her heart.

I can't claim to be a more stout-hearted fellow, but I'll try and reason things out.

The thing is, for all things, material or otherwise, we hate to lose them. We are cowards at heart, if coward is the appropriate word to use in such circumstances. But to the girls. Have you ever considered this: We value you, or one of you, so much that we are afraid confessions would only invite rejection and a dreaded disappearing act. For me at least.. I'm always torn between the prospect of success and imminent doom. What if.. what if.. so many what if's. Some might accuse us of being "hot and cold", meaning sometimes eager, yet other times nonchalent. I can only say we are beings with feelings too. We need reactions; we have pride that we would like to preserve. Have you ever considered, that you people sometimes cold-shoulder us too? Sets us confused and bewildered, turning friendship into a higher stake, a potential loss at that. That's why we often stall at crucial moments, not knowing when to move on..

Signal sets, anyone? Make it loud and clear.

As for going for it.. I'll think about it.

~

Today was okay by any class gathering standards. Sentosa's pretty crowded nowadays, yet the crowd is not really that attractive. I almost fell asleep during the girl's chattering.. used to think there was only so much one could talk about work and university admissions, but I guess I was wrong. Dead wrong.

So much for understanding how a girl's mind works. No wonder I was born a guy.

10 more days before I turn 19. To be completely honest, I don't feel nineteen. It's abit like an inequality.. if you let X denote me, it'll be something like this:

I would like to make it clear that disillusioned does not = unhappy. Okay, maybe in your definition it does.. each to his own. But I'm sort of contented being sad and depressed. It's a personal thing. Probably incomprehensible to most (if not all), but it makes sense to me. Ask an African bushman why he likes his sand and bushes, and Mr Eskimo why snow makes the world a better place.

I feel weird and ill-at-ease when happy. It doesn't feel right when everything is going well.. it probably just signals the impending arrival of some freak thunderstorm. Or the sudden flash of light when one passes out. I'll die of shock if ever in a state of joy.

So you can imagine my chagrin when my section mates showered me with concern today.

Jx. You're very disillusioned. That's just so sad.

Yea I am. What's wrong with that. I don't understand what's there to look forward in a reality that is rapidly ceasing to be. Calvin has amazing patience, but I can be really stubborn.

I'll rather adapt Daniel's "Ah well" and just let it be.

Finally..

The admission letter from NTU has arrived. Damnit, took more then a while. Had my heart in my mouth.. Wasn't sure if there was any screw-up in the adminstration, or perhaps the professor had lied. But now it all doesn't matter anymore.

What a sigh of relief. I shall blow any wig away.

NTU here I come!

I am tempted to delve into some obscure topic. Something light and tasty. With just the right amount of spice. Call it a feeble attempt at ego boosting, or just a flash of inspiration.. at least I'm giving up on one liners for the first time in a long while. But since I am at best a mediocre chef, the stuff I cook up can't be anything short of disastrous. At least I think it looks good anyway.

Something like that..

Maybe not.

~

I've just been pondering lately. Rather waiting like a sitting duck. Passing my time reading up on the SM1 tank, as exams inevitably come knocking on the door.. I presume NSF exams aren't really that important, as everyone says. After all, they won't really want to spend all that time retraining a mere soldier over and over again. I think that statement, however sweeping is really is, makes some sense, hence I shall be convinced by it. Beyond any trace of doubt.

Okay that didn't really sound interesting. As Philip Yeo so strikingly points out, NS men know nothing but whine. After all, we are all wimps after all, aren't we? Why do I still mull over this NS issues when it does nothing but give me a extremely bad image.. For a patriot like him, we should understand Mr Yeo huh, and not complain so much about our vocation. Even girls say we don't act like men, but just act like what they are supposed to. We'll probably have to beg for their forgiveness.. plead our utter ignorance and innocence. Even though we don't worship regimentation.. Oops, did I just say that?! I'll probably get my pants sued off. Take my 370 if you will; I'll just survive on Oreos for the remaining 1.5 years of my NS life. Even blogs are deemed carriers of evil now. Maybe some biscuit company will be suing me next.

What do NS men know anyway? I probably won't touch anything intellectual for the remainder of my service if it wasn't for Lit. I can't even get my sarcasm right.

~

I'm more disturbed by this relevation:

Girls are all about image.

I guess I must be really shallow now. Other than university applications, tank mechanisms.. my brain is basically filled up with the same stuff. I really should focus more on interesting issues, like http://jllt.blogspot.com. Maybe an attempt to agitate people, but Xiaxue takes the cake. Anyhow, back to what I was going to say..

Notice I didn't use the word "startling" this time round. Probably because it isn't all that surprising. Just another fact I chose to hide, tried to wish away.. hoping that it wasn't true. But I guess, the feminine side are like snowflakes. We marvel at their visual beauty; they disappear before we find out what they really are like.

I'll be the first person to admit; I'm not a practical person. A unrealistic realist at best. Somehow, I had this notion that if the time came, when I really gave my heart to a girl, show sincerity, show that I'm serious about her.. she'll be moved. Time will be my witness, if nothing else.

I am easily encouraged by little responses. Her smiles set my heart pounding.. I can almost feel it pop out, like those little cartoon characters. When she teases me, I feel a certain closeness; even thoughI know it's probably just an exchange between friends. We probably see each other in different light. But I guess it didn't matter to me then. All it mattered, was that she liked me. At least I think she does. Doesn't matter if it's as a friend only, or just a mere aquaintance.. doesn't matter if it's similar to a girl liking her pet mouse, just a little thing that amuses her, makes her happy.

Imagine if it was all just an act.

Maybe she just wants to maintain her image. Of a nice person. The goddess she appears to me. Keep me under her spell, mesmerized. Maybe I mean nothing to her. It doesn't matter if I gave her my soul; she'll just hang it somewhere in her house, and pretend nothing happened. All the flowers I gave her, she'll just give to her mother or sister, and pretend her "friend" gave it to her. A female one, if she feels the need to embellish. Pet my head gently occasionally, just to let me know she knows I exist. All along, as she smiles and talks to me, she's cursing in her heart:

Why is he still bothering me? Haven't I given enough hints?

And she can't tell me. Because in spite of all, she enjoys the attention, as long as it's kept at arm's length. A female friend, ironically not a close one, told me that the greatest flattery a guy can give a girl, is his heart.. so no matter what happens, she'll want to keep it that way. Being admired. All females do. Even someone as stupid as me will realise that.

If you were me, won't you be depressed to hear the truth, so bluntly thrown in your face?

If I told her she was my dream girl, she'll probably just disappear.

What if then, I told her she was my favourite actress? Will she continue her performance then? I'll just pretend that I'm a part of the scenery. I won't make any sound. Promise.

~

My cousins have been drinking lately. Maybe I should join them.

Meeting her was by chance. Becoming friends was by choice.

But falling in love with her was beyond my control.

Being pre-occupied by problems isn't the best way to confront a present one. But it works. For today at least, the nine of us fitted in nicely.. not exactly tailor-made gloves, but good enough. Personally, I missed my old section mates, the crap of "Talk Cok" Wee, Kylie's antics, Ee's squeals of indignation.. it's just this discontentment, this unsettling feeling. I can't find any explanation for it. 2WO Lau isn't as evil as the Bone Fletcher; Benjamin isn't the asshole we all thought he was. Though there's a class test tomorrow, I'll probably use platelets donation as an excuse for failure. That should settle any worries at camp.. for now.

Carnations are for mothers.

Carnations are for mothers only.

Carnations are for mothers and mothers ONLY.



Am I the only guy that doesn't know that? I must be. I can't say use your imagination to figure out how embarassed I am, because it'll be too taxing on anyone's mind.. even if you got 7 As for A lvls. Carnations.. I guess they were beautiful. And buying something for someone who likes it doesn't always work out. Carnations.. liking doesn't equate to possession.

Carnations are for mothers only.

Anyway, though carnations are for mothers, I really hate rejected guys who try and make the girls who rejected them sad. Especially faggots who post their thoughts, including their names and the girls' names.. it's really an insult, even if carnations are for mothers. What's the point of making them sad, when your sole purpose, or supposed purpose, was to see them smile and be happy.. it's really damn loserish. This particular guy which I'm talking about didn't even blog for like nearly a year? And suddenly there's this compulsive urge to write his feelings. I'm sure he's suddenly feeling emotional la. Even though carnations are for mothers, I seriously hope that he doesn't succeed in any relationship.. The way he treated this first one was totally way out of line. Yea yea, I'm sure you are enlightened after your rejection. I'M VERY SURE LA. And don't farking mention my pal's name; he's way better than you. At least he took it nicely, and he's way better-looking too. Seriously. If you write about a girl in your personal blog.. you should never, ever show it to her. It's like a invasion of her privacy, and worse still, she doesn't know. I may be stupid, and ignorant of the fact that carnations are for mothers, but at least I realise that.

Even me, who forgot carnations are for mothers only, deserves more respite.

Actually, I'm not too sure about that. Haiz.

Carnations are for mothers. Only. I'm going crazy.

If anyone's expecting me to write about the special person in my life..

Somebody was right.


Happy Mother's Day MOM!!


If you thought it was the other one, you aren't wrong either. Things have gone so far and complicated.. I'm inclined to just go to sleep right now and not think about it. And yea, carnations are for mothers. Big hole in my pocket now, burnt 1/3 of my pay this month in two days. Her smile was worth it.

A second NTU interview gave me a good feeling initially. Honoured even. After all, a personal interview with a college professor can't be just a three cent cheap ride.

After the elation, it's time for more rational thinking. Maybe I didn't get past the first round.. they're just giving me a second bite of the cake. Abiet a rather soft and mouldy one. Possibly with many worn-out bites along the edges.. the fantastic notion that they might actually value me is absurd. I guess I will try my best.. but it's pretty difficult pleading a lost case, especially when the axe is just inches away. Not showing any signs of slowing. If it would ever slow down at all.

Do I feel aggrieved when people deemed less qualified take my deserved place? Yes. Without a trace of reasonable doubt. Whether this feeling is justified remains another matter altogether..

I see fellow peers, looks of contentment on their faces. Exclaiming out loud that they got accepted.. I do not despise them.. they slogged for it. But I do feel a shred of hatred. Frustration. Probably at myself I guess. Muggers and hardworking peeps do win after all. Maybe I should concede gracefully, and see myself out of the door. My pride.. I don't deserve it at all.

I could just be another Paul Gascoigne. Wasting myself away..

A tale of two classes. A dynasty of six weeks. A legacy to remember. The story of how an Armour wing accepted it's 17th batch of trainees, and divided them into two sections - A and B.

It was forseen that the intense suspicion and jealously would one day spilled over. But no one believed the old warrant. Despite his many years of experience, his evil features and bald, sparkling head proved too much to accept.. no one paid any attention to him.

In fact, the fraction was already splitting.

As Class B became superior each day, the gulf in class between the two sole sections in Armour Wing, BTT 17, became more obvious and uncomfortable. Always, when a problem cropped up out of nowhere, somehow Class A had a hand in it. Total lack of discipline, serious attitude problems, slacking without any real attempt at disguise.. the guys at the opposite class had many a happy time laughing at their opposite peers. Same batch of trainees, roughly of the same age, yet the difference in standard was appalling.

United and divided.. A certain rivalry bloomed. The characters from both sides contrasted and clashed in personality. Bad blood was spilled, and even speaking terms were thrown right out of the window..

Then, on the 3rd of May, at 1600, the officer-in-charge made a startling announcement.

Class A was going to exchange half her trainees for Class B's.

The Class B Brotherhood, just out of it's infancy, was now broken up.

Brave words were spoken, cries of protest rang around the workshop. And finally, tears were held back, as the inevitable dawn upon the distraughted technicians of Class B. Whether Class A's reaction was similiar remained unknown, and insignificant in any sense.. All the weary specialists-to-be knew it was the end of their fellowship in a sense. All the talking-cok sessions, the tei-bing gatherings.. numbered. A newly formed army in the form of the Class B soccer players.. soon to be disbanded.

Along the people crossing over included mugger PTE Guoping, PTE "Holidae-camp" Hee Teck, "Blacky " PTE Shida and CBT-writter PTE Daniel.. as well as Slacker PTE Jiaxuan and Even-Slacker PTE Zhaoming. Colourful characters who were destined to be swallowed in the eternal darkness of Class A.. never to return, except for Friday class outings and Sunday soccer.

Class B must remain strong, for though the empire has dissolved, as long as hope and faith remains.. Class B will remain in spirit, if not in body. Crap, but it's quite sad and touching. Haiz.

I'm really tired out. It's been a hectic long weekend.. and yea, NS men don't use long weekends to rest. It's probably an exaggeration to say we are aren't unlike caged beasts, released to create a reign of terror and chaos, but when you think about it, we do love long weekends. It's like a bless relief from hell.

I had my first really enjoyable lan session for a very long time on Friday.. In fact Leon and me went positively crazy, nearly risking the wrath of some very threatening gangster-wannabes. It's never wise to laugh at punks.. no matter how brave and strong NS men are made out to be, without our M16s we are rather ordinary. Throw in the code-of-conduct rubbish and we're probably free pickings. Indulging in suicide missions and jeering at the opponent isn't the most mature and sensible thing to do in any place at any rate; I would have thrown something at myself. But it was fun. While Guoping was working himself in a frenzy.. seriously I've never seen anyone mug dotA. Gp's got to be the first.

A series of miscommunication led me to Bukit Gombak on Saturday. Where I saw Leo and Reubs for the first time in a long time. So many things that haven't happened in a long time.. but apparently Reubs' church thing was on Sunday. So it was rather a wasted trip down to the west. For no reason whatsoever I had to drag Reubs down to Raiders for another lanning session with Miza and fevanova.. and this turned out to be a typical day; we left pissed and bewildered.

I then made my way to J8, where I did something constructive for the first time in a long while.. what a weekend for first.. anyway, I really can't find any excuses for not trying my best anymore. If Teck can put in so much effort to teach me, the very least I can do is to work for myself. Only acts of selflessness around one can determine how selfish one really is.. and I do feel ashamed.

Soccer session with the OETI people was a mixed affair. I was pretty much enjoying myself until the sole of my right boot came off.. and I played like crap after that. This Adidas predator set was an item stolen from Alphis a few years back, and I didn't really think I valued it a whole lot until yesterday. But the few moments which I really performed was really magical.. every cross came off with perfection; the ball seemed stationary even as it was rotating with furious speed on the soft touch of grass. Some time later, together with some outside friends, we proceeded to challenge some old-timers who had arrived. After all, we are young NS men, full of energy and explosiveness. At least we were still convincing ourselves after a 1-3 reverse.. Very evidently our fitness level isn't as excellent as we like to think. If an old fat man can outrun me constantly throughout the match, something is very wrong with me. Or we could take it that the chap took steroids, which I feel is a more likely explanation.

Perspiring profusely, I decided to rush home for a shower before meeting the two guys for a church party. Ended up taking a cab, which took half the money in my wallet and gave me an empty feeling for the rest of the day. Reubs promised me fabulous looking girls, and I actually believed him.. that's really stupid. But he didn't go too wrong; there were one or two potential ones and a few other hopeless cases. And I think they liked me with contact lenses; I'm sure I'll totally bowl them over with my specs.

Up to now, I'm still wondering why Mrs Yeo, a.k.a Reuben's mom, hasn't run after me with a parang yet. Upon stepping into Reubs' semi-detached house, I was half-expecting torture machines and mass weapons of insignificant destruction, the insignificant obviously directed at me.. I mean, I was the person who tried, and thankfully failed, to corrupt this innocent chap. Without me, he'll probably be on his way to England now. Soccer, lan, escaping from lessons, not doing homework.. I am the Devil himself I guess. An inexperienced one, but that's good enough.

Hence feeling guilty I didn't turn up for the class gathering. It's so noble and fresh an excuse that I feel better already.

Writing all this was torturous by itself. It's so.. not nice. But I've done it out of obligation to myself and I don't want to look at it. Hopefully something will turn up soon; FM93.3 isn't that helpful.