it bothers me greatly how there's nothing left to look forward to in life. my life, that is. life, fate and even karma haven't thrown anything in my way worth blogging about. except of course, the fact that there's nothing to blog about is the sole reason for this blog in particular.
life, life, life. ironic.
it's all ironic, really.
ironic how we (used to) wake up in the morning for school, grimace then moan, wishing we could sleep in for the rest of the morning for procrastination's sake. and yet during the holidays, we would wake up to the glare of the afternoon wishing we had more things to do (face it, you wished you could go back to school to be with friends, amongst other 'less important' things).
ironic how we had much distaste for going to school five times a week, facing the bothersome teachers, putting up with the stress they shove in our faces and above all, grin and bear it the whole way through. yet now, almost reaching three months since the very last paper, and almost four months since the last day of school, where we saw Stan in his ninja suit, Rory in his sarong and football jersey, and who could forget Julius in his pyjamas, i'm sitting here before my hunk of crap 'n junk i call my computer wishing i could relive each day at school to savour and appreciate all the shit that happens during it, whether it's listening to Mr. C without laughing at him, providing sarcastic and witty humour he did grow sick of, and making those 'not-normal sounds' he highlighted in his prom speech, or finding out that Dom actually learned something worth living life by.
ironic how in the next couple of months, the people i see at form time in the mornings; at various classes, before lunch, during lunch, after lunch, after school, even out in Gadong, arranged or coincidental, will all be leaving the country soon, and while it technically is only right i should be joining them in sharing that sweet release, i'll be stuck here until 2009 at least.
i guess the finger can only point at me when it comes to who to blame for letting me pick French over Malay back in Year 3. even though i got an A* for it (which i dearly hope has made Monsieur Burton proud, may his beautifully cynical soul rest in peace), my command of French is beyond rusty; i didn't understand very much when i watched Rush Hour 3 (it's set in Paris this time, folks, if you didn't get to see any trailers beforehand. watch it, it's hilariously funny; i got three words for ya: Jackie Chan, baby), and i think the Malay would have proved much more useful today.
don't get me wrong; i have no regrets about my choice. if i were to choose the songkoks over the berets, i don't think i would have ever had the opportunity to meet and get to know the brilliant mind that was Nigel Burton. i hold him responsible for the abscence of witless stupidity in my head.
but i am a man of the Now, and right now, my future's on hold, just so that i can learn my 'native tongue' for that scholarship. hopefully all of 2008 would do what getting taught since a young age did for everyone else who learned malay. but one year? is that enough? it better be, it's all i've got if i don't want to be in graduation pictures with my brother tossing the hat as well.
i got 27 points for IB. there, it's no secret now. the whole world can potentially read this sorry excuse of a blog and tell the rest. i need at least 32 to get into Chemical Engineering in Leeds, which i've noticed is the minimum mark, so for now, i'll be re-studying my Chemistry, Physics and Geography (all three of which were 4s) to retake this coming November. looks like the students of ISB will still be seeing my fatty face here and there. i'm embarassed and ashamed of myself, but again, where does the finger point? i will rectify that in 3 months' time, have no doubt of that.
i guess there is something to look forward to; apparently i have a job waiting for me come September, my friend's gotten me something to do at where he works, and apparently i will be working under him. not to be taken literally.
well there you have it. my future, more or less in stone. work the job, retake three IB subjects, fully verse myself in Bahasa Melayu, grab a government scholarship, get into a (good if not decent) university somewhere in the UK by February 2009.
to all of my fellow graduates: all the very best to you and your future, wherever you go. may your voyages and travels be safe, and your education bright and full of promise. you will always be in my prayers, and may all the memories we share be too golden to forget.
to all of the students from my former school and ex-second home: DO NOT TAKE YOUR DAYS IN SCHOOL FOR GRANTED. appreciate and savour all the good and bad that happens within the campus grounds, else you waste your days not just with reminiscing and nostalgia, but regret to hold it all together. this goes especially to those newly crowned year 13s, should they ever stumble upon these worthless words; you only have so much time before the exams hit, and trust me, they hit hard and fast if you so vainly let the currents of time carry you down your final year.
bon voyage.
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ah yes, something on a complete tangent, and hence totally random:
Mags, Jacob and me had just finished our latest Shahbandar trek the other Sunday, and while waiting for our parents, Mag had decided to make some more of those strange weaved basket thingos like the one she made long ago. here we have two such baskets, one i shaped a head to to look human, and the other was pulled before i received it. looks like a little alien thingy. rawrr fft!!
