Casa De Shao

Category: Papers and pens

  • A Post Written On Bus 53 While Opposite The Buff Chinese Guy With A Zangief Beard

    A Post Written On Bus 53 While Opposite The Buff Chinese Guy With A Zangief Beard

    Tokyo Skytree, Floor 450, Mar 23

    That’s right, fuck the 6 year streak of post titles that lengthen by one every year.

    Scoot over a bit. I’m cramped in my seat. I know. It’s one of those seat arrangements where 2 benches face each other, there should be enough space.

    That point would be rendered moot if you were to look up to witness the Buff Chinese Guy With A Zangief Beard. He’s seated opposite me.

    Don’t look NOW, you fucking idiot. He knows we’re talking about him. You used the words “Buff Chinese Guy” with “A Zangief Beard”. Fine. WE used the words, “Buff Chinese Guy” with “A Zangief Beard”.

    How am I supposed to know if he’s looking at us? I’m not looking at him.

    No duh that’s why I wrote this post. I stopped wasting my time playing Tsum Tsum because 1) there was no more visible progress in that game, which I had been playing all day, 2) playing Tsum Tsum looks like I’m sneakily filming the Buff Chinese Guy with a Zangief Beard and 3) he looks like he could suplex me into the wheelchair bay if I were to do 2).

    You aren’t saying shit, but I know you are agreeing with me that the Zangief Beard is certainly interesting. And that look is asking several questions.

    Why talk about his race? Chinese guys can’t grow beards beyond a Fu Manchu.

    Why buff? To emphasise how if I were to film his Zangief beard, he’d reach over, grab my shirt and suplex me into the wheelchair bay.

    I’ve NEVER seen ANYONE with a beard this three-pronged and shoulder-resting as he. The cherry on top is that he’s Chinese.

    I just want to watch his beard. I want to witness how it brambles and trails from his undefined chin, and how the roads and avenues of facial hair cruise down his neck to his shoulders and chest, under the canopy of an army singlet, exiting the freeway of his shorts onto his furred knees, pointing toward mine, a causeway of ape to man, hairy limbed to bald legged.

    I wonder if he is thinking of me, my person shuffling in the seat uncomfortably as I avoid his eyes. I wonder what a beard feels like – I wonder if he washes it after brushing his teeth.

    I wonder if his parents abhor it, I wonder if his girlfriend loves him for it, and pulls on it in during frenzied climaxes. I wonder if his identity is the beard, if the beard is a depressive defeat from time, or if it stems from genetic abnormality, or if it’s just cool.

    I wonder if my high distinction was a fluke, back in Sec 3, when I took the UNSW Creative Writing exam. I wonder why it has followed me, a speck of glitter on my shoe that reminds me that I AM someone who can write, but chose not to.

    I know it was a choice to hold onto this tiny label, as an I am better than you, but I wonder if it is time to let go of the High Distinction. I wonder how many more labels I have foisted upon myself, glittering when I meet my potential and blinding my eyes whenever I don’t. How do you let go of all of them? They are a mass, an ugly mass of shoulds and potentials, only discoverable when you put your face really really close and discover in blinding, seething realisations that you are not an actor, great improviser, fast coder, etc. Etc. Etc.

    —

    Oh my god I was going to alight the bus and he grabbed me.

    Instead of suplexing me into the wheelchair bay into a 76 combo finisher, he passed me my wallet, which had slipped out my pocket, because I was squirming, because his hairy Zangief thighs (/positive) were right in front of mine, so actually it was his fault, so I guess I don’t need to thank him for what was essentially his responsibility.

    And that’s how you start a new hiatus.

  • 2015

    2015

    As I’ve done for the past 2 years, I headed down to the ArtScience Museum to watch the fireworks again.

    Fireworks aren’t ever the same in photos or film; you can’t replicate the fantastic shockwaves from each blast nor the chorus of the human spirit, crowds thousands-strong, joyfully yelling in unison. You’ll miss out on having a smile filling from the showers of brilliant sparks, so close, it’d be like golden sand spilling between your fingers.

    The claps and booms were seemingly unending, but when it finally did, the jostling crowds and long journey drifted my mind and body lost once more.

    (more…)

  • Inane

    It really worries me that my present outlook on the oncoming A’s is one of aloofness. I haven’t been truly stressed over an exam since secondary 2, and I’m regretting it.
    I’ve mentioned this a few times, that I’m actually worried that I’m not worried.
    I’m sure that I’ve done pretty fucking badly for some of the exams that have passed already, and although there have been reports on people jokingly praying to the “Bell Curve Deity”, I’ve been increasingly hopeful that, well, this curve actually works in my favour. (Although I do believe/hope there’s a Big Man Upstairs)
    My main problem, that I cannot ever fix, I have no idea how to write my answers fast enough. My lack of speed has already affected my GP and Econs and I have been asking everyone “how do you write faster?” Only to hear “just write” like some pseudo-cryptic oracle whose words can propel me tp victory. What do you think I’m doing with a pen in my hand? Daydreaming? (Well shit I think I was)
    I seem to have lost most of my motivation already; I just don’t know if the rest will be as disastrous as the first few.
    Alright don’t flip your shit just yet- I know that “it’s just a sheet of paper” and I “have many options left”. It’s just that society has groomed my preferences this special way, and I can’t help but scowl at my impending, bleak future.
    I’m looking towards graphic designing, and I hope its qualifications are as lax as the arts are. It’s a tough market out there though.
    I don’t want to be the guy rotting my tits off slaving at a desk (or counter) whilst all my friends toss their mortarboards on their graduation days.
    I don’t want to be the dad who has to tell his children to study hard and not become such a miserable, abject failure like he was.
    I don’t want to be afraid of returning to class reunions because I fucked my life up.
    Basically, I don’t want to lose face, and it’s pretty terrible that I can’t do anything about it just because, well, I didn’t bother to train myself to write faster. Regrets, oh the regrets.
    On the intense, 122-caldera-bright side, I haven’t encountered anything I didn’t know how to answer.
    That means I’m smart… right?
    Gah I really don’t know what to do with myself

  • Traits [IIX – Write about your FIVE best friends]

    Back at the park again, but I’m running around this time. Just ran a fair bit from my house and I’m resting at a bench.

    From here I can see two old ladies having fun playing with a digital camera at the beach haha. Also the entire park is full of couples again.

    These aren’t arranged in any particular order.

    The first would be Responsibility. A rather stern person; likes to say “I told you so”. He often tells me to man up and be less dependent on others to study and stuff (he said I was going to write this and here I am writing this) He knows a lot about getting things done, from seeing some of my screw ups and having done a few jobs in his time. He may be strict, naggy, even; but he knows what’s best for me, I guess. Really glad having him around. Some sort of guidance in my life, no? We might have occasional disagreements but hey, it’s always some petty thing that we erase in the end.
    –
    The next would be Charisma; completely shrouded in enigma. Conducts herself extremely well, and is really a terrifically sweet girl who has a talent to charm everyone she meets. I still don’t think I know her as well as I’d like, despite having “watched over” her for a few years. From the things she does I can tell that she’s really committed and good at everything. She just needs a bit more self-confidence, because I can’t see any flaws of hers. She’s much more complex than I can see at least, which makes her kind of awesome. Everyone likes the mysterious pretty lady in the corner. Oh god that was creepy.
    –
    Third is Common Sense. A fan of “I told you so” as well. Very very generous, and seems like the kind who’d take a bullet for me. He likes to correct me when he disagrees with things I’ve said; I use it to my advantage by trolling him all the time. I’ve been abusing him too much really, but I’ve been treating him better since Sec 4. Extremely bulliable due to his laughably satisfying responses. Still, a superbly loyal friend in the end haha. A bit overbearing at times, but he’s usually right during those times.
    –
    Fourth is Idiosyncrasy; I haven’t really met her in face. Talked a lot with her online around the start of Term 3, I got pretty upset when she went to university. The thing I like about her would be her propensity to do things that a normal person would simply balk at. Really hilarious things, really nice things, really neat things and really amazing, awesome things. Things that would be rather shocking when  She’s a natural-born leader, put it simply, and just needs some more self-confidence. Hope she’s doing well. She’s not, actually :/ sigh. I could say more about how awesome she is but I’d sound creepy, really creepy heh. It’s not my fault I get “obsessed” over awesome people. I wonder what qualifies as awesome in my eyes. Maybe modesty? Crap you found the amazing invisi-text.
    –
    Fifth would be Concentration. He’s homophobic. He never fails to assist me in doing silly stuff whenever possible and can really get into things once he’s focussed. A hilarious guy during classes too, and insult battles are always fun. He just needs to be a bit less indignant about some stuff such as saying the word “help” which causes him to go completely apeshit at me. Actually I don’t mind BRING ON THE APESHIT
    –
    Funny how they’re all qualities I lack in.
    Well
    4 days left!
    1 AM SHIT.

  • Uhh. [VII – A day in the life of a 5 dollar bill]

    POST 80: I’m not in the mood to write stories!

    Here’s an amazing, beautiful, charmingly dandy song, please please please listen to it (thanks Chuan):

    [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bYvt0boSRXQ]

    You, Me and the Bourgeoisie – The Submarines

    Here I am with all the pleasures of the first world
    Laid out before me who am I to breakdown?

    Everyday I wake up,
    I choose love
    I choose light
    And I try, it’s too easy just to fall apart

    Oh my baby, don’t be so distressed
    Were done with politesse
    It’s time to be so brutally honest about
    The way we think long for something fine
    When we pine for higher ceilings
    And bourgeois happy feelings

    And here we are with the pleasures of the first world
    It’s laid out before us, who are we to break down?

    Everyday we wake up
    We choose love
    We choose light
    And we try, it’s too easy just to fall apart

    Plastic bottles
    Imported water
    Cars we drive wherever we want to
    Clothes we buy it’s sweatshop labour
    Drugs from corporate enablers
    We’re not living the good life
    Unless we’re fighting the good fight
    You and me just trying to get it right

    In the center of the first world
    It’s laid out before us, who are we to break down?

    Everyday we wake up
    We choose love
    We choose light
    And we try, it’s too easy just to fall apart

    Love can free us from all excess
    From our deepest debts
    Cause when our hearts are full we need much less

    Yeah, I know we long for something fine
    When we pine for higher ceilings
    And bourgeois happy feelings

    But here we are in the center of the first world
    It’s laid out before us, who are we to break down?

    Here we are in the center of the first world
    It’s laid out before us, who are we to break down?

    Everyday we wake up
    We choose love
    We choose light
    And we try, it’s too easy just to fall apart

    Everyday we wake up
    We choose love
    We choose light
    And we try, it’s too easy just to fall apart

    –

    bour·geoi·sie [n.] pronounced as bur-juu-wah-zee
    used to refer to the affluent middle-class, usually in a derogatory manner

    I like this song because it reminds me that there are people worse off than we are and we must be grateful for whatever we have because people are suffering from deformities from Agent Orange which Wikipedia page I chanced upon and has a picture of a bucket of dead white foetuses which is rather disgusting but I kept the page open in a separate tab just in case my mother chanced by and asked me what I was doing.

    Like first world problems.

    It’s catchy and puts my mind off everything when I go running. I went running and managed to run to one end of the park before tiring out (Google Earth measures it at 2.74 km!)

    Still having a cold BLAH

  • Erm. [VI – Something that excites you and fills you with joy.]

    I don’t have a lot anything to say for this because it’s a terribly rubbish title. Seriously, who ever gets filled with joy nowadays?

    Unless by “excites” you mean “appeases” and “joy” you mean “loads of food” then the answer is “buffets”. But I’m way past that stage of gluttony I think.

    I still don’t have an appetite, I’m still sniffling and sneezing and gasping for breath so I don’t think I’ve recovered much since yesterday. And yet I’m still snarfing my face full of food now arggghghg (honestly I wanted to use this as an excuse to starve or something but noo I’m a lardass) And I’m still sweating and sniffling though I turned the fan on gah

    Uhm, the last time I remember being excited was… Maybe for Strahan’s birthday party? I don’t know, I can’t remember a lot right now. Brain’s not functioning well (as always)

    I remember the last time I talked to her I was absolutely ecstatic. But it might’ve been a façade or something (I’m able to trick myself oh my gah I am such a boss).

    At this age there’s not really anything that can make you “excited” and “filled with joy”, the largest reaction you’d get out of anyone “mature” would be a grin or a hoarse laugh and that’s it. Everyone’s afraid that they’ll screw up and get judged and stuff and that’s why everyone avoids being over-the-top and it’s just ridiculous.

    [long gay obnoxious rant about the definition of joy]

    Here’s some pretty radical music.

    [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-aexLJKwME]

    Off to bed with me!

    Hopefully I’ll wake up at 6 or something.

  • Escapism [V – Something in life that gives you balance]

    Today was the worst possible day I could’ve ever had. And yet I didn’t really feel upset at all.

    I’m sniffling and sneezing and gasping and coughing right now with a sore throat and that’s probably a cold I’ve got. Mucus is dripping out of my nose like a loose tap. A stoned expression left behind from the 5-hour nap – aaaand absolutely no appetite at all either.

    It’s that kind of limbo, the kind where you don’t know if you’re hot or you’re cold and you can’t decide whether to turn the fan on or not because you’re shivering and sweating at the same time. Pretty sure I could turn this into a philosophical argument. But I’ll avoid that for now.

    I think this is the oft-quoted sickness from worry – I’ve never gotten this depressed (or shell-shocked) before for anything.

    Some things and people and relationship mean a lot to me and I think I can trust that nothing’s going to change.

    –

    There was something really horrible that happened this morning on the way to school. I won’t say what it was but it was really painful. Physically.

    When I reached school I realised together with Chuan that Math was on Tuesday and not Monday.

    But I wasn’t terribly unhappy.

    –

    I daydream all the time. To escape reality, I guess. To keep myself happy when the situation doesn’t allow for it.

    I once claimed during an interview that I was good in thinking up of ideas. It was a bad idea. I got roasted.

    Most of my problems come from thinking too much about things too.

    With my earphones on and my eyes closed I imagine things. Life, as a music video. Events playing out in accordance to the music.

    “This door is always open, this door is always open / No one has the guts to shut us out”

    I imagine, the few of us smiling and laughing, at random things off the camera and apparent jokes. The Esplanade as the backdrop and occasional cuts to me shredding on the guitar. And of course the guy on the drums. The bass player… No one cares about the bass player.

    And lots of bokeh. That kind of thing, you know.

    I’m an idealist as far as I can tell. Haha.

    Here is a quote to justify myself (although it’s just escapism again):

    “True genius sees with the eyes of a child and thinks with the brain of a genii.” -Puzant Kevork Thomajan

    –

    There must be a reason I’m typing this at 1AM 2AM 3AM 4AM. BLAH I don’t feel like sleeping.

    Bragging rights. I can say LOL I SLEPT AT 6AM I AM BOSS.

    God, I need some medicine for this shit, my nose is pathetic!

  • Protected: How it all started [IV – Something you regret]

    This content is password-protected. To view it, please enter the password below.

  • Cycling [II – Something that is part of your routine that you enjoy]

    This morning, I woke up at 10:30. In a matter of minutes, I was back in front of the computer, scrabbling at the keyboard, fighting Nightkin and scrounging for fission batteries. After I realised all my saves were corrupted for the third time in a row, I got up annoyedly and retreated into the room with The Doomsday Key, a novel by James Rollins.

    I love the way Rollins is able to expertly weave and interlink several unrelated locations and events, ranging from the Colony Collapse Disorder to the Svalbard Global Seed Vault into a story while describing every place and happening with such impeccable believability.

    So I finished the book. I frowned to myself. Damn, now there’s nothing to help me procrastinate.

    Drenched in perspiration from the stifling heat of the afternoon sun, I wandered back out to the living room and declared that I wanted to cycle. Anything to avoid doing Project Work. Besides, didn’t exercise release hormones. You know, those… happiness hormones. Endolphins. Dopeamines.  Serotonins. Whatever, I just needed them, along with some fresh air.

    I hopped onto the creaking bicycle and towards the park. Getting onto a bike for the first time in weeks feels extremely liberating; The breeze brushing past your pant legs and sleeves, stroking your face as you trundle down the pavement; the damp, familiar smell of nature all around the park; the rush of adrenaline as you speed past cars and pedestrians.

    As I zip down the lonely pathway into carpark A, a couple of yellow leaves flutter down from the trees ahead, almost like confetti during a parade. I smile to myself, picturing the scene in my head. The pungent stench of horse manure from the pony farm ahead forces itself up my nostrils, snapping me back to reality. Disgusted, I pounded my feet onto the pedals as hard as I could and sped along, as quickly away from the retching odour as possible.

    I eyed a few children on bikes ahead and sped along faster, in a mock show of bravado and might. To challenge myself, to see how fast I dared go before I lost control. My shirt stuck against my chest as I perspired from the effort and the wind whispered encouragingly past my ears, wiping the sweat off my rosy cheeks. This is what I’m talking about! Wanting to go even faster, I twiddled the knobs on the handles – each gave a satisfying click and thunk as gears shifted – although I wasn’t very sure what changing gears did. I just liked how it made me feel and maybe look like I knew what I was doing. For once, at least. I’m such an escapist.

    It’s the only way to stay sane, isn’t it?

    Seconds later, as if to challenge my dreamy thoughts, I hit a drop on the pavement. The handlebar which I had been pressing on twisted downwards, throwing me slightly off balance. Oh damn it, the sodded thing’s loose again! I fought to regain control of the bike, letting loose a string of curses under by breath (goddamnfuckinghellshitnabei) and managed to right it before swerving round a bend. I grimaced, finding the bike much harder to steer and brake. Shitting hell, this was exactly why I stopped cycling.

    Needing a break from all this self-inflicted “action”, I entered the SAFRA chalet through the side gate and stopped in front of a small cafe. My bottom felt agonisingly sore as I stepped awkwardly towards the counter. I purchased a small bottle of root beer, nodding to the cashier reflexively when I collected my change.  Bah, I thought while chugging down the beverage, the only thing these chalets are ever good for. I plinked the bottle into the bike’s basket and headed out of the compound.

    I cycled from end to end of the park, having alternating periods of speeding and slowing down while swearing silently about the literal pain in my arse. Deciding that it was time to go home, I pushed my bike up a hill, letting out a string of curses. Thanks to the positioning of the handles now, going down became a nightmare as I struggled to reach for the brakes while having control of the bike as well.

    Dreary and spent, I trundled back to my apartment, all too happy to lock my bike back in its rightful place. The shower provides a simple, often overlooked luxury- the cool wash of water running down your back. The water turned warm soon after.

    I exited the shower and… returned to my computer.

    Damnit.

    I’ve currently come full circle, back to what I’ve been trying to avoid – I’m now perched before my computer, fingers flying across the keyboard, occasionally straying to an interesting website or two. This time, with a pounding migraine above my eyebrow and some difficulty to focus my eyes on words.

    It’s going to be a long time before I return to my bike again. I’ll keep telling myself that.

    —

    Actually, this is for Day 4 but I went cycling just now and it’d be more convenient. I reckon no one’s interested in how I regret getting a C5 for Chinese.

    Cycling’s not much of a routine thing for me as revising for tests 2 weeks in advance is.

    I don’t actually need to defer  for NS yet so whoop. For me.

  • December [I – Something you’re looking forward to this year]

    Yes, this is another 30-day challenge. But I’m pretty sure I can finish this one! [Typed yesterday]

    ——-

    There is a multitude of things I look forward to daily; such as recess(es), the times when I get to meet “mah” homies. Weekly? That would be Wednesdays and Fridays. Monthly? Nothing much of note other than public holidays.

    One thing I’m looking forward to next week would be Strahan’s birthday party. I’ve heard stories of ONE°15 Marina being a fantastically posh and prim location, with pools the shape of kidneys and the size of giants’ kidneys.

    I’m also looking forward to December, that month when everyone would be free and work-less. We’d meet up daily and have long talks about absolutely nothing and everything- HTHTs, petty grievances and personal triumphs. We’d saunter through the vibrant streets of the city, just laughing and chatting all the while until it’s time to go home. We’d watch movies and play computer games, and maybe even study together for the block tests.

    Of course, there’s more to December than just hanging out; I could work in Sitex with Sean, have a holiday in China, return to school for absolutely no reason… It’s only 3 months away, but I don’t have the ability to predict what’d happen.

    BLAH let’s face it, I’m a shortsighted person who takes things as they come; I don’t strive to change what I already have for myself. And thus I don’t look forward to anything this year.

    SHIT ENDING. On a related note I have to go to apply for deferment tomorrow #$%^@!$#%^@#&

    —

    If you were wondering why that was so shitty: I’m not really looking forward to anything this year and I spent 3 days wondering what the hell I should’ve written before settling with a vague date.

    The next one should be much better though.