Ramblings of a restless mind.

I realised today just how corrupt the Year 8’s are. I watched them, the youngest, supposedly most innocent in the school, try to bash each other up in the most absurd manner. One of them was being held still while another guy joked around bashing him up. I heard Year 8’s bragging about the guy that crippled in a fight on the oval. I’ve seen them basically become little assholes because of the influence of us, the Year 10’s, guiding the Year 9’s, who have now set the beam for Year 8’s. I guess it links back to us inevitably, but you could reference the school community to society too. They don’t know any better than to be corrupted, and I suppose the Year 10’s are corrupt in their own way. Violence and teasing is not something to boast about, and yet my class seems to encourage it a little. I really hope some of the idiots in my class reach a level of maturity they can be proud of soon. I know some of them have, but don’t show it yet. I guess in a way I’m one of them, but I’m pretty horrible myself at times. Mm, so many negative influences in society…
 
I suppose it’s true what they say; you have to let go of everything you want in order to get it. I’ve been forced to rejoin RuneScape by my brother’s command, and he’s pretty darn pissed about it too. It’s because I released pictures of him in a duck blanket about half a year ago at 1am on Christmas morning when he was testing if the chocolate I gave him was poisoned. I posted that on the internet for his friends to see and it’s been circulating around, and now I’m his slave for a month. It’s so lovely being his brother, but I did get my vengeance for all the times I said I would get my vengeance but didn’t. Anyways, I’m back to RuneScape now for the time being, but I hate the game with a passion for all the sad memories it brought, but love it all the moreso for everything that I played it for. I just play it as the game it is, as I said to Zack, now. I’m not attached to it, it’s just a game. Still, I have to exercise that more thoroughly.
 
Just a quick, random note here, the class performances in music was today. I played Gymnopédie, the piece I was going to play for Ivy and at the Mercedes concert, but alas, she couldn’t come, so I improvised. "Good morning gentlemen, and of course, Ms Bott. The piece I would like to perform for you today is "Gymnopédie", by the French composer Eric Satie. I would also like to make a dedication, if I may, to my darling girlfriend Ivy Wong, who is not a 40-year-old Canadian, thankyouverymuch." "What was that last part?" asked Ms Bott. "Oh, nothing, shh!" I said putting a finger to my lips and beginning the piece. I played it beautifully by the way, but Ben Caddy’s the most amazing violinist I’ve heard from the adolescant part of the world. He really is gifted, not that I’m about to let him know that.
 
Anyhoo, I also finished my table. I made it over the course of 10 weeks, and I have come up with the result that there are two types of students who do Materials Technology; those who like working with their hands, and those that are too stupid to think. Unfortunately for me, the majority of my materials class is composed of the latter. They took up Mr McRae’s time for the whole term, not listening to instructions and disrupting the class. I could never really understand Mr McRae anyway, so I needed help a lot but lo and behold, he was helping everyone else who hadn’t bothered to listen. Nevermind, over an extensively long time (about three times longer than we needed), I completed my table. I painted it in the final lesson, just quickly running over it with a brush. I’ve taken a picture below. Next to it is Eugene’s "patch-up"- he’s a talented artist as well as musician.
 
Anyway, I’ve rambled on quite long enough, so I’ll leave you to whatever else it is you may or may not have to do.

Maths Camp

I’m not entirely sure if I should even be publishing this, but I wrote this while I was on maths camp. I didn’t feel like running around in the sun playing soccer like everyone else, so I just stayed in the dorm with my notebook, and MAWA and company eventually came.

Mm… I’ve been thinking a lot. My time here is a swing of emotions. My ego rises at my talent and falls at my disgrace. At night, I didn’t want to sleep. I feel trapped and helpless. Alone here, but not quite abandoned. I can’t help but wonder if this is like Ivy’s trip in China. I try being friendly but I only end up making a fool of myself. I’m different. I paced the dorm at night, people (guys only) wondered what I was doing. I felt restless, and I sat against the wall, questioning… things. I might not find my Solomon here either. Fi Wang, Sheena, just people. Am I so astranged? In my depression I can’t help but question her, and yet, my heart thumps when I think "it’s only four more days…" Why? Am I nervous? Anxious? Ignorant perhaps.

Sometimes i want to hurt myself, but I won’t. Katty has done some stupid things, so it will serve one no justice to follow her. Pete is cute when he sleeps. [I was actually supposed to tell Raph that, but aww, he’s peaceful when he’s subconscious. No thoughts of depression or anger, just Pete, and there’s something about that I admire. He’s innocent, in his dreams – as far as I know]

"Is everything all right dude?"

Kneeling before the storm I cried. Someone happened to walk outside. I told them I was praying. I would need more than my own strength to overcome my doubts and fears. Have I bretrayed her?

Walked around at night in my labcoat, sent back. Geoff. Meep. I miss you so much Ivy. <3
I suppose I wanted to elaborate later. It’s now later.
I walked around, the soft rain and chilling wind whipping my labcoat about me, and so I went to get a drink because I was thirsty and couldn’t sleep. And that lady sent me straight back with a scolding. Geoff, aka Mr Jamieson, a former maths teacher, sympathised, but yeah. When my dorm couldn’t settle down and rest, he just called us out of bed dressed how we were and took us for a midnight stroll. It was freezing, and wet, and unfortunately for some gentlemen, they opted to wear only their boxers to sleep. Anyways.

~Later~

Some of the kids call me meditation man for sitting up in my bed last night. Sometimes I’m overwhelmed by a desire to be with Ivy. I don’t know though. Four more days and we’re together. I always wonder where she is and what she’s doing and thinking about. I love her. A few people have noticed my ring. Some people call me Xin, which I like, and I’m kind of getting along all right. Meep, perhaps today wasn’t so bad afterall… Though, the night my be a different story. Ridiculed for doing my sit-ups, psht. Year 9’s, I tell ya…

Ivy is so much more perfect than me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I pulled out a knife under the table and got punched in the ribs by Pete. I was excluded from card games, but met Shibi. Stress balls and meeping, the weirdo in the labcoat. I suck at cards. Meep, Solomon? Space of raining hearts?

Don’t ask cuz I don’t know. That’s just what I wrote, and that’s it folks.

Hm… Yeah…

 

EDIT: Suppose I should elaborate a bit more hey. MAWA’s the little fat kid that got the impression of the little fat kid. In other words, he set himself up to be pelted with the little bag of stressballs the camp provided to encourage teaching (makes you think, doesn’t it?)

I carried a pocketknife with me at all times, for fear of Pete attacking me during the day, and my slingshot was hanging off my bed next to me at night. I warned the boys any movement during the night was a shot to kill, though I can’t use the slingshot very well and I may as well have shot the wall instead. They weren’t to know that though. Hm…

Shibi’s a really cool girl that looks like Bara-chan. I misread Fiona’s (Fi’s) badge as Wong so took an instant liking to her. She carried a stuffed bunny named Quaver Allegretto with her everywhere, and her best friend Sheena reminded me a lot of two certain Singaporeans. I met a few girls who knew Emily from St Hilda’s (who came second) and a few who knew Lee from St Brigids. Christchurch had two teams, and so came both 1st and 3rd, which sucked majortime. Cheaters. In the balloon pop game, their  balloons were too small to be popped, and basically tied to their knees. Pssht.

Hm, what else? Eh, nothing worth mentioning. Tee hee hee, I love Ivy. Meeee. <3

Shaaaaaaazza!

Rightio, ‘ello there!

I just thought I’d make a blog entry remember my conversation with David earlier today. Note before reading: I was just being random, and I am not gay, thank you.

"David."
"Indeed."
"I have a confession."
"A confession?"
"I… am a male."
"Really?! I must admit, I’ve had my suspicions for some time…"
"Ya reckon?"
"I reckon."
"I’m sorry man, I’ve been cheating on you. What the hell!"
"Oooookay!"
"David?"
"Yeah?"
"I have another confession."

"I’m not gay either."
"NOOOOOOO!"
*rofl!!*
"Um, David, wrong answer."

Heh heh heh. I love David. Before Pete comments, I’ll say this. He’s just so darn sexy I love him too. And before Ivy comments, I’ll say this. She craps all over Pete- and is my one and only.

Yay!!

Random stuff- avoid reading.

Parasailing! Pah!

This is just one of my bitch bitch bitch entries. Fwee has a nicer blog than me, or at least, I envy her greatly. Perhaps to the extent of jealousy. She has such wonderful command of English, she just knows and seems to command it in a literal sense. She doesn’t bother with rules, she just writes whatever she thinks of and it comes out perfect. At least, as far as I know.

I might be able to say the same about myself, but how do I know? If I do, to me, I would be vain. If others do, they might be patronising me or doing it as an act of comfort. Pssht.

Another thing that bugs me is that she can write absolutely whatever she wants. She doesn’t have any fear of her friends commenting or tormenting her at school. She can talk freely about whatever, but I have to censor some things that I write so Pete won’t get bored and shake his head at me. He does it so often. Well guess what. This is one of those entries that express as kindly as I can (while spurred on by an irrational feeling of… unhappiness) that say "F*** YOU". Not talking to anyone in particular by the way.

Perhaps I am a joke afterall, but at least I make people laugh.

*sigh* Ivy’s late. Oh wait, no she’s not, she’s got.. a few seconds. Rar! Mew :( I feel like I’m PMSing- and no Pete, I do not have a vagina. I’m just reminded of what it might be like because of a cute drawing on deviantART. Being the kind of guy I am, I’ll go see if I can find it. http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/3349027/ It’s also attached below.

Anyway, yeah, moodswing. First I was upset, then I was, and I hate to say this, angry (I’m almost never.. angry. I hate that word, it’s so incredibly negative. When one is angry, they lose sense of all their faculties and become more dangerous than usual, and I don’t want to be dangerous, I want to be the quiet nice guy, not the raging psycho which is unfortunately what I’m occassionally labelled as -amongst other things- because sometimes I lose it. Anyway, digressing. Don’t like the word.. angry), then to a little better, and now to a state of mild depression. Mm, teenaged years. Gotta love ’em, ay?

I think I suck at English in comparison. I tried writing a vampire story you know. I just read it again and I think it’s terribly rushed. I’ll re-write it when I have the heart. I still love vampires, and sorely wish one would bite me, whether for death or for undeath, if such a word exists.

You know what? Just ignore this entry, forget about it. I’ll post it anyway just to let people know that I am human, I do get upset once in a while, and that I just want whoever’s reading to understand that I’m not who they thought I was- to whatever extent, large or small. The exception is Ivy, who knows me better than I know me. God I wish she were here, but nah she’s probably asleep after a hard day partying. I checked her email, and she filed away my story, so that’s all I’m left with as an answer. I miss you baby. I miss you alot. I am so very lonely right now, but it’s late, and you’re probably asleep. I’ll let you rest peacefully. Until morning, then, my love. Meep, moodswings all over. Oh how I’m going to laugh one day. Lol arr I’m sad. Pathetic sad, not unhappy sad, though I suppose I’m both. Ha, lowering my ego freely. I’ll just go before I continue to degrade and make an ass of myself as dear Teerapon loves to point out. I hate life sometiems and thank God for it at others. I wonder why.

Happiness is a choice John. It’s a choice, and righ now you’re not very happy are you? Lol it’s stupid not to be, you’ve had great times, you’ve got so much in life to smile about. Theeeeeere we go, that’s better *grins* Lol moodswings! Ah heaven help me…

Well… um… good night! I think. Aye, good night.

Questions

Where do souls come from?

 

Are souls really eternal? Like the Hindu belief, perhaps every creature has a soul, and the material world is just made of atoms. Building blocks, like lego, that create so many different shapes and creatures. But could it be possible that we have souls that never die?

 

The expanding human population would discredit this, but if all organisms do have souls, then would it be fair to say that if the rate at which such creatures die (an animal, insect or other living creature becomes extinct every 2 seconds) is equal to the rate at which others expand…

 

If the population balances, could it be true?

 

Do souls want to be free of these bodies? Are bodies just chains for the loving nature of an eternal spirit? The essence of a person is perfect. The person, is not. Christians believe this. When they die, they take on their perfect forms. Once more, religion is brought into the struggle.

 

Now… Does God create our souls or do they exist beforehand? Do they find some group of atoms and just decide to inhabit them? Does all life deserve the same respect as humankind? I don’t see why not. The only difference is, we have the ability to think, we can imagine, we can question. Things aren’t black and white for us, there are so many gray areas. So many things to develop, they’re not just “the way things are”… Or are they?

 

Human reason is one thing that will never change. Life, death, things like these… They are the way things are. Pain, too. These are the black and white areas. But imagine this, if you will.

 

We are all shadows of our souls. Of “ideas”, as the philosopher Plato believed. Our perfect souls result in our imperfect copies, we try to imitate true beauty, but we don’t know what that beauty looks like. We can only guess the mould of a gingerbread man from how the gingerbread men are shaped, but the mould itself is perfect.

 

We are the imperfect gingerbread men, the blurry shadows. Is it possible? What is the soul? Where did it come from, does it exist, where does it reside and what is its nature?

 

I’m really starting to wonder if its worth asking so many questions.

Stuff!

Okay, big catch-up entry to break the streak of Ivy-based posts (not that there’s anything wrong with that, mind you!) However, I must warn you in advance that this entry contains tmi (too much information) for anyone who doesn’t care.

Well, for the first time this morning, I didn’t dream of Ivy. Little strange isn’t it? I might have, but I’ve forgotten a lot of the dream. In essence, it was basically trapping me in Gibney Hall wearing my labcoat; and only my labcoat. I was about to gather my clothes (at the doorway) when Mr Watson and the English class walks in. I dashed up some scaffolding and watched them as Watto took a chair and sat down to mark his essays. That’s what he usually does in his spare time anyhoo, but there I am, watching them pretty much exposed. I have strange dreams don’t I?

There are two ironies in this dream. The first is; I woke up and really was wearing only my labcoat. Fortunately, I was safe in my room at 4am. The second is that they had set up scaffolding in Gibney Hall for music night- tonight. I spent my morning lugging around chairs, desks, and other various pieces of junk, and I’ve hurt my back and splinterised my fingers. However! I felt like a warrior somehow lol. I don’t know, don’t look at me like that! It was me vs the chairs, and I kicked those chairs asses. Ohhhh yeah *whip lash* I was also smart enough to take off my ring before I did it- and good thing too, because my hands were burning by the end of period. Literally burning. I was holding them out in the rain and you could almost hear the sizzle. Ouchie! Anyway, it had better bloody be worth it. What I’m really looking forward to is the small dinner after the performances- that’s always great.

Going off topic again, I also thought about love for a while. I’ll never get enough of Ivy, ever. If I talk to her online, I’ll want to keep on talking, or have more. If I call her, same applies. If she meets me, or vice versa, same applies once more. I will forever long to hold her in my arms, and when I put it into words, it occured to me that love is very much like a drug. You need it once you’ve had a taste, so to speak, and it can blur your judgement and cause you to do stupid things. It’s cruel, but people lock away drug addicts so they can’t wreck their lives. Why is love so different? It gives people that endless happiness when they’re with their loved ones and it’s hard to let go of them, like heroine or speed to an addict. I suppose the only difference is the physical impact, as well as loved ones are generally cheaper than illegal drugs. I guess it’s also promoted by a community for the economy and so on and the miracle of life, as it goes. I don’t know, it seems cruel to allow loved ones to be together to try to quench their thirst for company, but to deny people the same thing with drugs. Just my opinion, remember how desperate some people can get, both for love and drugs.

Anyway, going back to everything else that I happened to write into Microsoft Word while Ivy was here so as not to break the chain of entries. Firstly, on Wednesday morning (the day after she left) there was a red mark on the left side of my neck. My theory is that Ivy either gave me one enduring lovebite, or something else bit me lol. I’m hoping it was the former, from 3:00 on Tuesday afternoon. That, and her labcoat smells heavenly. Absolutely heavenly, I can not get enough of that scent lol. Mm… She has to be an angel.

Another thing I’ve realised is that there are always two sides (or more) to every story, and a fool follows only one. I’ve acknowledged this in the past, and yet I still have such narrow views, as Pete will be glad to support. I want to broaden my views and remember all my philosophies for more than a few minutes, but I’m having trouble breaking the norm. I’m an individual, that much is certain, but sometimes I forget why.

I have here four quotes.

“Remember the good times; don’t mourn for them.”

 

“See the candle in the darkness, the stars in the night, the sun behind the rainclouds…”

 

“Remember this night whenever you are lonely. Whenever you want to cry, or whenever you feel sad, just remember tonight Ivy. Remember my touch, my warmth, my love…”

Unfortunately, at the same time I knew that remembering what isn’t there offers little condolence, but that ties back to my first quote. Enjoy them, remember how happy you became and let that memory of happiness bring a smile to your face, just as it brings one to mine.

 

“Happiness is a choice.” You can choose to feel happy when someone gives you a compliment, or you could choose not to. Pessimism and optimism, but ultimately, it’s up to you whether or not you want to be happy.

Sound familiar? ‘course they do. And I also have a huge string of questions and philosophies which I’ll publish in another entry to save you from reading more than you can be bothered.

I love Ivy~

Final Fairwell

Well, it is now Tuesday afternoon. Ivy is (hopefully) on a plane to Singapore, where I can only imagine what she will be feeling. Gosh I’m going to miss these days, but I’m going to remember them even more. That’s what counts. Remember the good times, not mourning for them. What point is there in getting upset over something you enjoyed? It’s almost a little greedy to want it again, but it’s human nature, so it wouldn’t be fair to say.

Still! Ahh Ivy. I remember that when we were at the movies, I was thirsty, so she took a long drink of coke and kissed me. Then, I suddenly realised I was drinking lol. Aww isn’t she the sweetest? Yes of course she is. Good times, mon ami, good times. She’s given me her labcoat, and omigosh it smells just like her. I’m looking forward to sleeping in it tonight so much! We had a few minutes before the departure at the airport, so she took my hand and led me to the toilets… and around the corner. Darn, was kinda hoping to get kinky ;)
Nah seriously, yeah she kissed me, she flourished my neck (hence my sudden overwhelming love for vampires) with love bites, it was really nice. Just nice, but something at the back of my mind told me we would be interrupted to I broke. Lo and behold with but a second or two to spare, Ivy’s Mom walks around the corner and scolded us. Still, we kissed goodbye once more, I returned the cross she lent me to her, but…

*sigh* I didn’t get to do so many of the things I wanted to. Ice skating, the beach, sex… Lol just kidding. But seriously now, I didn’t get to repay her for everything she got me either. I wanted to get her earrings, and bracelets, and a locket or necklace, and an engraved ring and everything shiny I could find (shiny shiny!) and a bikini (she’s been asking me for one) and all nice clothes and fluffy toys and stuff, but no! Noooo my Tuesday shopping was stolen! The Fremantle markets were closed (as we discovered when we got there) and her Mom hadn’t wanted to go to Carousel, so alas. I couldn’t get her anything really. Oh, and perfume, I wanted to get her perfume. It’s materialistic, I know, but she has so few reminders of me, while she left me with so many. As well as a feeble attempt for me to copy her Chinese name and numerous signatures. But now I’m left feeling guilty, but this is not the end! I shall go to Singapore whenever the pain becomes unbearable (be that half a year or a year and a half) and I shall make it up to her then! Oh how special I shall make her feel, and how much she will have to brag about to her friends.

Anyway, rambling now, but baby? I love you. Remember that, ‘kay? Muacks <3

And to the rest of my reading audience, take care my dear friends! God bless you all.

 

PS: Photos to be uploaded soon, keep your eyes peeled. Eww….