What Is The Point

What I have so realised is that it is during bus rides that things strike me the hardest.

I should write a book examining the relationship between Revelations and Bus Rides and call it Revolutionary Ride Revelations.

But i digress.

On the bus home from Novena i was thinking What Is The Point.

Of breathing of talking of loving of being rich of being poor of planting of living of dying of reproducing of animals of insects of football of homework of exams of university of tennis of sports of Presidents of being a freaking developed country with people involved in primary or tertiary or secondary sectors of technology of globalisation; of anything at all.

Of Social Studies of Democracy of Autocracy of Meritocracy of Communism of war of peace of Shakespere of tangents of cosecants of esterification of chemistry of working or money of beaches of beauty of marriage of Biology of Meiosis and functions of the liver and of the stomach and of the cerebellum and the nervous system and of sunsets and of time.

What Is The Point of all this?

I suddenly couldnt answer myself and i got increasingly frustrated.


I turned to the Bible. Of all the painstakingly memorised verses from the years of catechism class and bible quizzes only Ecclesiastes came to mind.

And let me tell you, he goes on and on about how Everything Is Meaningless.

In fact Ecclesiastes 1:2 goes something like:

"Meaningless! Meaningless!" says the teachers. "Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.


Brilliance, i thought.

I could hear a couple chattering away shamelessly about Jen-somthing who was so very scandalous and Ben-something who was even worse. I tried to block them out but they were being extremely loud.

This made me very annoyed. Could they NOT talk about these insignificant things, and about Ben-whatever and Fan-whatever when here i was, trying my best to make sense of the utterly nonsensical world?


I thought harder.
I thought about how there had to be people who felt the same way as me, and i was rather comforted by that thought. I probably wasnt the only crazy one.

There has to be a religion, a band of people who believe that the World Is Meaningless and There Is No Point. I could research on it right now, but i shant because i am supposed to be studying.

I think they are called Atheists.


My musings were interrupted by a Beautiful Man who had boarded the bus.

Now a Beautiful Man differs, if only slightly, from a Sexy Male and a Hot Boy and a Marry Man.


A Beautiful Man is a man who is no doubt the most handsome and delicious man in the whole entire universe. One does not find a Beautiful Man just anywhere, and when you do, it is a rarity and a sight to behold.

This particular Beautiful Man had a tatch of brownish black hair and was painfully goodlooking. All the men in the bus cowered in sheer insignificance when his glorious self graced us with his presence. He had on a white, striped shirt, complete with cuffs and all.

And these cute brown pants.

In his hand he held a black breifcase, which contrasted heavily with his light skin tone.

He was probably around his twenties and this i could tell, entirely from his side view. (which was breathtaking btw)

He was British. And i love the British because they have awfully pretty accents.

Not that i was staring, but i mean everyone was. So whatever.


And then it was like a glimmering ray of white light had shone down in front on me. I understood now! The Point of Life, was most obviously, Beautiful Men. I rejoiced in my discovery for brief moments before i shook myself out of the stupor of Hedonism.

Of course that was only a temporary lapse in judgement. Yknow. Blinded by the Beauty.

(Eurghh i am so shallow sometimes)


Then i thought about how if i didnt get my Geog right i wouldnt do well for my Olevels next week and NO BODY would care if i kept chanting What Is The Point and being relentlessly struck by useless and completely random thoughts.

Sometimes i think my head is abit screwed up and nothing LINKS in there. Everything is a mass exodus of rapidly moving Wild Things covered in soap so I cant grasp anything for more than 2 seconds.

And if I do it slips out of my hand and melts into the confusion.



I am SO confusing.

Trying to elucidate things only makes me even more confused. Nothing is ever resolved.

Like how no one gets how Britian's NHS system is obviously a little bit Communisty and how LKY is a meanie. (And that RHYMES. I mean seriously. How convincing am I.)

Yeah i know he rocks because he seriously had the glorious forsight and the fantastical intelligence which made Singapore what it is today, but that doesnt change the fact that he is a meanie.


I wish O Levels would be over soon and my brain will be filled with Non Academic Things like sunglasses and big nice Summer hats and Prom Dresses and Phuket with the Bings and KotaK and Dresses and Surfing and French and Fun Things and History Boys and Bowling and Tennis and inane thing like my revelations which i would have the time to research exhaustively on.

OLevels is SUCH a time hogger.


Plus i wont have to ridiculously mug for Sciences and Humanites on Halloween when every single party place in Singapore is gonna be heated up by masses in cool costumes and my sister is going TrickorTreating and my brother is wandering around in Blissful Aimlessness, trying to sign up for Maplestory.


I know. I am so hypocritical sometimes.

I mean what is Van-something and Dan-whatever's scandalousness to my brainless and utterly insignificant thoughts?

Alright you little couple, go on talking about Panny and Danny if it makes you happy.



And this is me, signing off as i dive into my illuminating textbook of Earth Our Home, a Geography Elective.

SEEYAAAAA

HOLD ME DOWN
AND I'LL CARRY YOU HOME
-Augustanaaaaa <33

When You're Sixteen

I've just turned 16.
I must say, being 16 is highly anti-climatic.

Everyone in the house is asleep and im listening to my own click-clacking of the keyboard, it sounds so pretty Especially when it's quiet, i reckon.

I think blogger got fixed somewhere along the way, just when i was deciding to switch to LiveJournal. It's awesome there how you can tell people how you're feeling with all those retarded emoticons.

And the cool icons! Livejournal is SEXIER THAN YOU, BLOGGER.

I miss blogging. I cannot think why i stopped for so long. I must keep going, this is so liberating.

16 is a pretty wicked age to be, actually. But i dont feel much difference, unless you count that i suddenly acquired temporary double-eyelids. Its actually the most exciting thing to wake up and have your eyes all pretty staring back at you. But they didnt pop out at 12am, they came visiting 5 days ago and havent left since. Im hoping they take up permanent residence.

My retarded, lovely parents switched off my study lights while i was busy replying Terry's birthday msg and doing my math paper (is something wrong with me? is is normal to be doing math papers when you turn 16? i dont know) and brought a beautiful candle into my room.

I blew it out as they wished me a Happy Sweet 16th.

Mom: Hello darling, happy birthday!
Me: Ehm, you guys, thats so sweet!

(upon turning on the lights, i discover that they have given me a pretty pink box)

Mom: Yeah but i want it back.
Me: The present?
Dad: No, silly, the box.

Heh. I love my mama. They gave me this ridiculously adorable card from Ivans or sommat like that and wrapped 2 50 sing dollar notes up and 2 US 50dollar notes. IN FREAKING CLEAR WRAP.

Like the kind we use to wrap books. It was all very surreal. My parents are reeeetarded.

And the card ended somthing like : And heres two 50 US dollars for you to use (and i thought DAMN WE'RE GOING TO USA THIS YEAR SHEEEEEEEEEET)... WHEN WE GO.. SOON.

XD But it was so awfully sweet of them. My parents are the bestest parents ever.

Man.
I cannot believe im sixteen still.

Its rather disturbing.

Im also tryna lose some weight, but if theres one thing you must do if you want to lose weight is NOT BE ME.

Because i cannot lose weight. Its either my aunty cooks food which is too yummy to resist, or my moma buys PercyPig from Marks and Spencer and HOHO it goes in a flash (because PercyPig is my Achilles heel, dammit), or i break and eat all the cake thats been going around.




WATAAR did the craziest things on Mon. We had PKLS and Ms Eu bought a PINIATA (!!!!!) and i couldnt for the life of me destroy with the broom stick i was offered to liberate the sweets so Gav the Man karate chopped it for me.

It was so funny i nearly choked on my own spittle and died right there.

And we had awesome cake with choco eggs on the top and everything.


My neck is hurting something awful now.
I think its because im becoming very old. 16 !!!

Im so old, i can hear my bones creaking.



Or maybe its because im typing this while im slouched in bed in a very bad position which would have those posture-freaks like going nuts.

BUT IM FLIPPIN 16 !!!!
Holy.

I decided held enough significance to be recorded here, in my trustly ole blog, soon to become obsolete in the Ever-TwitBooking world.


Its 12.53 now.
I cant even feel my neck anymore. Its gone numb.

I reckon its a sign.
Goodnightzxzxz Im going to Where The Wild Things Are.

PS. STILL CANNOT BELIEVE IM 16.

Life is not about trying to fit into shorts
but finding shorts that fit.

Omg.

My posting window is getting weireder and weirder (STILL think WIERD looks more weird than WEIRD- but for the sake of english, and pride.) by the day.

Now everything is flush left and i cant (again) change my font.

But whatever.

500 Days of Summer is coming out ON MY BIRTHDAY MY BIRTHDAY MY BIRTDHAY and i think its a sign. That i must watch it. And its such a brilliant movie! Joseph Gordon-Levitt is not the only attraction, (AND WHAT AN ATTRACTION), there is Zooey Deschanel who acted in Yes Man, and the script is so scintillating and original. Its like a breath of fresh air, sweet and delightful.

THEN THERE IS SEXY SACHA, who i love to tiny tiny tiny little bits because he is the funniest shit alive.

I must watch Bruno too. It is imperative.

Good movies have this annoying habit of poping up when i cannot watch them.





Chinese results were a terribly large shock(:
But good shock.

Upsides of Being Intelligent

I dont know why my crazy computer cannot seem to open the posting window effectively. All im getting is a box, whcih annoys me greatly because i can neither change this awful font style, or this miniscule font size.

I was reading the my Engish Literature Forum (since when has school been so interesting, man) and damn, Forums are the brilliantest things. I swear. Especially when brilliant people start to discuss the most banal things and make it seem outrageously interesting. (Basically when i say people i mean Renyue and Nicks and Xin Yi)

Honestly.

I can see where these people are going, already.

Unless, of course, they are gifted in the Sciences on top of the Arts, and then all i can say to that is Life Is Unfair (which is a rather stupid thing to say, because we already all know it's true AND there is nothing anyone can do about it. If there was, life was be boring anyway. Everyone would either be across-the-board beautiful or across-the-board ugly.

Arcoss-the-board beautiful might sound mighty awesome, but only because we fail to see that beautiful would not be deemed beautiful if everyone were beautiful. If you get my drift.

Then beautiful and ugly and stupid and smart would cease to have a meaning simply because there would be no more distinction between them. Life would be like a piece of white paper.

Blank and stark and eeriely unreal. But then i digress)

1. Smart people are respected. See: Barack Obama. (First Black President Of Free World And Noone Gives a Shit That You Share a Middle Name With A Terrorizing Madman)
Michelle Obama (First Lady. Damn Fashion Statement)
Einstein (Dude. He lived how long ago? And we still know who he is?)
Ali G (You can insult all and sundry and people still LIKE you if you're brilliant, funny and you graduate from Oxbridge)
Nicky Ren Yue Xin Yi (see: me, nearly drooling in awe of their coherence and scintillating-ness. Enough said)

2. Smart people go to Zouk and get so stoned they cant even see, and then the next day study for an hour and get results so brilliant you darent even imgaine getting. (This happens. It does. Its unfair, but i shant go into the Life Is Unfair But Too Damn Bad rant again)

3. Smart people get married to smart people and produce smart little babies who boost economy and make country flourish. (Ask LKY. He totally would back me up)

4. Smart people are generally rich. (Need i provide examples? Just one word would suffice: Gates. SAT score? 1590 out of 6000. IQ? 170. Proven.)

5. Smart people change the world because people LISTEN to smart people. (Ghandi, Martin Luther- both, Mother Teresa- dont give me a incredulous face, she HAD to be smart, all those people skills and handling matters and having home after home under your care, Emma Watson- DARE YOU SAY HP DID NOT CHANGE THE WORLD, ectect)


Well.


But then again, i dont let it bother me too much.
I value happiness and contentment more than i value intelligence. (Or rather, i try)


God has a plan, anyway.
Maybe what he wants me to do requires somthing other than acuity.

Yes, it must be.
God makes everything better, he really does.


ITS ALSO SINGAPORE DAY TOMORROW.
Which for some uncomprehendable reason is making extremely excited.

Yes.
I am so proud of Singapore, i can barely contain it. Its home indeed. I think my loss of voice from Singing What Do You See and screaming yesterday proves my undying loyalty to my HOME LAND.

Singpapore is indeed fantastic place. Where else would you find people like Hossan Leong and Phua Chu Kang and National Day Videos with men walking down dark roads?

Where else would you be subjected to Sars and MRT RESPECT raps and where else can you choose to eat Indian, Malay, Chinese, Vietnamese, Korean or Japanese food all in the same place?

Where else do you shout KOPI TEH is your best gangsta accent and then sit down to say (primly, of course) 'Oh, im famished! Cant wait to tuck into the scrumptious food!'

No where else, really.

Singapore is one of a kind, it is.

LOVE IT.



Also, this blog is the awesomest.
www.pleasefindthis.blogspot.com ('Pologize. I cannot seem to add the hyperlink, damn my computer. Or blogger.com? Whatever)

It really is.

Nat finished reading the post all the way to well, wayyyy many years ago. I admit i havent really read them all yet, but those that i have, havent disappointed.

Basically this guy write poignant one liners (which are rather emotional and drenched in a heavy atmosphere, but altogther very exquisite. And worth the time) about photos sent to him by an unknown penpal who travels all over the globe.

Its all really interesting.

And talking about beautiful, lets not forget the BEST SONG I'VE EVER HEARD. And this is Honestly Not A Superlative.
Cross my heart. (just like the Carl Fred-somthing from Pixar's Up, my heart crosses are violently and extraordinarily steadfast)

Its an amazing song.

I cant even describe it. The tune makes it seem all so surreal.

The first line will cut you so deep, it becomes imperative that you listen to it over and over again, and learn the lyrics off by heart, and sing it in the bathroom, to your mother, and tell all your contemporaries about it. Its so brilliantly and remarkably PASSIONATE. I cannot even begin to stress how much i love it. Perhaps even more than Kaka. (Oh no what am i saying!) Less than i love Emma Watson and the History Boys and Adam Lambert and Artemis Fowl, though, but the extent of how much i love them is off the charts, so we dont compare. (Reckon i should stop upping the expectations, or im going to seem unreliable)


Here goes.


Vanilla Twilight by Owl City.


I'LL FIND REPOSE IN NEW WAYS
THOUGH I HAVENT SLEPT IN TWO DAYS
COLD NOSTALGIA CHILLS ME TO THE BONE

"Flying is easy. Just aim for the ground and miss"(:

Geez, i so miss prattling on and on about absoluetly nothing in here. The sense of release and sheer comfort of just clicking on the keyboard makes me feel so happy.

This might be attibuted of the fact that either, im going mad and crazy, or that i am starting to find joy in the strangest, and slightest things.

I am now a full fledged Catholic, because i just had my confirmation, which brilliant. I asked for Fortitude, because i need it rather badly. The Arch Bishop touched my face and now i am officially Amanda Joelle Lee, which is SO DARN SEXY.

I mean seriously

Joelle.

That means God is My Oath. I think Oath is a solid word (like its made of granite, concrete and some superstong glue), and my life requires some solidity. Im too flaccid sometimes, and its awful.

Being 16 is so strange.

I cant decide whether i like it or not.

Sometimes im so content with being Amanda the one who runs around singing and is happy most of the time, but somtimes i wanna be someone like Emma Watson.

And sometimes i think, why cant i be more cool, and cynical and questioning?

MAN why cant i be disillusioned, detatched and sexy?

Or why cant i remember to put the register back in the drawer?

Or why do i forget people's birthdays so often?

WHY CANT I HAVE AN IQ OF 156?

Gosh.

Then i pull a face in the mirror and think about how life in general is rather unfair.

But then its easy to bounce back.

It takes me less then 10 minutes, because thats the maximum i allow myself to wallow in shallow, stupid selfpity before we move on.

BOING.

Thats how one bounces back. Its a trick to life, mostly you focus on what you have rather than what you dont have and there's this pretty glow that starts to grow in your heart.

School is being anal and the gaps between tests are becoming progregressively shorter. Im so glad that Pups and HC and Dionne and Dawn and Natnat and Nicky and Bobbles and Vanes and Cleo and everyone who makes me laugh are in my class.

If we're gonna make it through this, we'll make it through together. Whatever it is. Whether we have to crawl and wrestle or gnaw our ways to our goals with our teeth and nails, we will.

We will swear (mostly Bobbles- oh and Dionee) and sweat and shout and get fevers and make stupid lame shitty jokes and become depressed and mad TOGETHER.

And i learnt something valuable yesterday from the papers. NEVER use simple words when we can use bombastic ones when you are out to impress.

ie, instead of 'lengthened rebellion', one says 'protracted insurgencies'.

or instead of 'stupid', 'FATUOUS'.

instead of 'logic', say 'syllogism',

and instead of 'self absorbtion', 'solipsistic'.

Aim not to be understood. It is imperative that readers use a dictionary to dredge out the merest drift of your article.

Only then, have you suceeded. Plus, it lends one a kind of underserved brilliance.

Or people just get really really annoyed and use your articles as fish wrap.

SO CUTE WHEN

YOU SLUR IN YOUR SPEECH


The craziest people graduate from Oxbridge. ( I REALLY THOUGHT THEY WERE IVY LEAGUE. )
Its brilliant.

Ali G (Sacha Boren Cohen) is from Cambridge.
Mr Bean (Rowan Atkinson) is from Oxford.

ALI G.
BORAT.

The guy who said : 'Fings like 'apple' and oranges' dont start with da capital letter unless they start a sentance' at the Harvard Class Day lesson. (He wanted to 'drop some knowledge' see, to the Harvard students and graduating seniors saying 'you is the most cleverest students in America')

HAHAHAHAHA.
Dude he is the crudest dumbest FUNNIEST shit on earth.
I cant believe he came from Cambridge.

Its madness.
I dont even believe it.

And then something else happens. And its even more implausible than Ali G (who wants to give away an once of hash as the prize for Who Wants To Win An Ounce of Hash) coming from Cambridge.

And that would be the wonder that is Inez.
Sports, is ruthless, harsh and ugly.
Sports evaluates, extricates and discriminates.
Sports is buckets of sweat, years of pushing limits and excruciating, mind blowing pain.

But sports is beautiful, rythmic and intoxicating.

Sports is raw and fresh and magnificent.

Sports, is talent upon hardwork upon tears upon fears.

Sports is also losing with grace (even if your insides are twisting and contorting in disappointment) and winning in ecstacy.

And when you see her run across the finishing line (even on the TV of goodness sake) its breathtaking, and ecstacy, is a gross understatement.

Its breathtaking and all the more beautiful, because, you see, all the pains and efforts she went through to get herself there.

You see her tears, her sweat, her silent and grim determination. You see the toil, the struggle and the unwavering commitment behind the win that she makes for Singapore.

You can see the countless prayers, the many breaths held, Coach, and everyone else who barely dare to blink.

A 100m hurdles race is a quick one. Inez did it with that beautiful gusto and steely purposefulness. She caught up with her competitors with a flourish, and raced to a awe-inspiring 3rd place.

I twitched with amazement as i blinked daftly at the computer screen.

Then i proceeded to press the playback two hundred and free zillion whatever four hundred and ninety six thousand four hundred and then a one (ALIG FTW) times.

Whatever it is, she deserves everything she has coming for her. She won this medal for Singapore with her sheer grit and perserverance.

AFTAH BOLTZ YOU MAH IDOL INEZ LEONG YA HEAR ME.

Thanks for being a mighty inspiration.

Ego

I've always imagined Ego to be a bright red colour, only because its showy and loud, rather like red.

Today is one of those days that i am thinking loads of thing and the things im thinking keep on slipping away before i can make them out.


So im going to this quick.

First of all i think
The internet is an extremely good place for people to expand their egos. For one, blogging is so pompous mainly because we can go on and on about what we do and think and feel and assume the world is interested.

Then the advent of Twitter and the pervasiveness of Facebook (which has such a wide age spread, i have a 6 year old kid and a 58 year old guy on my friend's list) has lead to even more self absorb-ish-ness.

So who really cares about what Ashton Kutcher thinks, and does and feels when he's taking a bath?

Oh wait.
Make that 2 million people.

Which in turn makes everyone feel like doing the same thing.

Its brilliant, really. We're really all gonna become so in love with ourselves.


Then i also think im becoming 3 things.
1. Crazy
2. OCD
3. T-Rex

Crazy because its one thing to run 10 rounds around the track in school, but a whole different thing to run around barefooted, wildly slinging a pair of converse shoes whilst decked in jeans.

Its a whole different thing altogther.

Especially when you're not very sure of the way home, and it'll probably take you more than 30 min but you heard someone say that it was possible to walk home.

So You Try.

In the meanwhile, you wonder if you are wasting your time. So you start to do a little jog, except the bag with your (all time fav Alen Bennett -The Uncommon Reader) books juggling inside, and your blistering feet, you decide its rather exhausting.

You make off to sling the shoes across your neck and pull your harverack tightly to your back.

Then you run.
All the way home, all the time unsure if its the right way.

The stares you recieve are priceless.
Honest.

And when you finally get home, sweating, panting and dirty, its all worth it.

Liberating, even.

Which i think brings me back to the part of me becoming crazy.

OCD because it i've been starting to list things, and they say when you list things its the first signs of Obsessive Compulsive, one of the milder sorts.

Not that it really bothers me.

And T Rex because i've stopped eating rice almost completely. I dont know why. Its like a break from carbo, because i've stopped running. Which allows me all this carbohydrate reserves which need no refilling.

And i ate so much meat for dinner i felt largely like a dinosaur. It was rather disturbing.




And then i also dub Bob and green Blob as a favourite cartoon character because he has no brain, but he rocks.

And Cougars are cool because i totally fell in love with a Nick Quah Lookalike Only So Much Better Looking .


And to quote Weiqing
"I WISH I WAS BORN 10 YEARS LATER"

He was unbearably handsome, for a 6 year old.
All quite disconcerting.




AND THEN THERES ME THE EGOISTICAL 21ST CENTURY BLOGGER/FACEBOOKER/TWITTERER (albeit a rather new little bird) SIGNING OFF.


XOXOXOX,
LOVE ME.