fear

fear is when you're on your knees,protecting your charge from the blades of other ice skaters. fear is when you pray fervently, each time he falls, that no one, no wheelchair, or no sled will run over his fingers. or neck. fear is when he wobbles on his too-tight skates and threatens to pull you down with him, mostly succeeding.

fear is when you read and reread a sentence, and have absolutely no clue what is going on, despite knowing the meaning of each and every word that makes up the sentence. fear is when you decide to wiki or google it and realise that everyone else (aside from your tutor) is probably like you, except they don't have essays due in 24 hours.

i've been reading armstrong's thermometer theory of knowledge for the past two hours now, despite it being only about 20pages long. let's just say, i will never look at a thermometer in the same way again (i might actually scream and run away if someone so much as puts one in front of me). he uses a thermometer as an analogy for his theory, which is well and good, except this time the analogy befuddles me more than that theory does. (or maybe i'm just really dumb?)

fear is when you realise you will be tested on such topics, and you just know you will have nothing to say. (at this point, i must qualify my usage of 'know', otherwise armstrong will protest. i do not 'know' that i will suck at epistemology, i merely 'believe' it. seriously, it's me you're talking about here. philosophy and lixin just doesn't mix.) fear is when you have seven weeks of term left, and probably nothing to show for it at the end of exams. but naturally you won't do badly enough to be expelled, which leaves the (really terrifying) prospect of remaining in oxford for another 6x8 weeks, writing another 48x2 essays (minimum).

at least my maths is all right. (points up to the mental sums i just did)

back to knowledge.

have i dedicated an entry to my speakers yet?

gosh they save my life! (though probably not my corridor mates')

i'm feeling awfully bouncy and happy today despite sleeping very little. maybe it's because i'm actually bouncing on my gym ball now (i'm starting to get a teensy bit dizzy!) or maybe it's because i've got loud music (weezer, coldplay and green day) on my perfect speakers. or maybe it's because i'm finally learning how to somersault during trampolining.

bop on sat night was absolutely smashing, i've made a new resolve to go clubbing at least once every week if i can help it. there were drinks in my friend's room first, talking about random stuff and me trying gin (tastes much better than white wine). then it was off to the college bar for more drinks -- sambuca and baileys this time. in case anyone is wondering, no i did not even get high, which is really sad, considering i had 4 drinks. the theme for the bop was underwater world, so i turned up dressed like a volleyball player (beachwear lah). i had an "i love oriel" tank on, and some guys who were obviously drunk and topless proposed a top swap. tsk. it was quite funny, and honestly not as insulting as it could have been, so i guess it was all right. the dancing was great though -- my friends and i literally danced the night away, though once again it was kinda awkward with semi-drunk guys around. i tried to "get away" by dancing with one of my girl friends - boy was she shocked. she got over it pretty soon though, cuz she was dancing in a really hot way the entire night.

yes i am a hedonist, that's not entirely bad, it could be worse.

the most telling response

silence.

it embodies the uneasiness at having to say something, anything at all -- when one hears of bad news. it embodies the quiet anger of having been maligned, provoked -- but when there is no recourse to redress. it embodies the quiet approval of the status quo -- or the lack of concern for it anyway. it embodies the lack of knowledge of what is at hand -- or so profound that words are just not enough. it embodies the surprise at an unexpected visit or remark, and the inability to respond adequately to it.

i remain silent when i read reports about elections in singapore. i've gone to the stage where i refuse to comment on it anymore.

i remain silent when i read some blogs.

i remain silent when i see some people come online, or indeed when i see them.

i could write about the most profound question in the world; i could ask for the reason of my existence, and the answer would be a resounding silence. yet i can be satisfied, because with some things, you just don't have to say anything anymore. you're beyond that, or rather, you think it's so hopeless anyway.

this is why i love my friends.

since i know i will die if i stay in oxford for too long, i've made a devious plan to leave this place before exams start. 3rd to 4th week of term in fact. being the typical ks singaporean i have to start asking my friends and planning now (instead of studying away).


frosted mirror says:
how about scotland then
diane [in Christ alone my hope is found; He is my light, my strength, my song ] says:
i'm going on saturday, to edinburgh
frosted mirror says:
argh!
frosted mirror says:
-huff-
frosted mirror says:
manchester?
frosted mirror says:
nottingham?
diane [in Christ alone my hope is found; He is my light, my strength, my song ] says:
cambridge? i can ask yvonne
frosted mirror says:
cambridge is 3 hrs from oxford by BUS! don't do this to me!
diane [in Christ alone my hope is found; He is my light, my strength, my song ] says:
lol, shhh...ok, ok, so cambridge

Editor's note: I suffer from motion sickness.

blog surfing

i dont feel like doing any work so i am blog surfing. bleargh. i need to get back to rousseau and democracy and tocqueville and liberty and free speech.

argh. i am going to fail my collections and mods and get expelled!

wohoo!

wah my singlish

come back to oxford liao, then suddenly all my english go down the drain. talk to people on msn use singlish like this, not proper english. some more this is unconsciously done, quite scary leh. if like that talk to the brits how? sure die one leh. maybe it's reading desmond's blog. or this other guy called rockson, who's really damn funny and spot-on, but probably still going to be caught by the govt for blogging about political stuff.

ah must snap out of it lah. sounding like ah lian now. probably should start reading the bbc instead, will help.

err. let's try proper english now. yesterday, zk picked me up from the bus stop, after being bribed into it by abiel. very nice of him nonetheless. i wore a light sweater and immediately felt dumb, cuz spring or not, england's still cold. the walk from my room to his properly froze my fingers and ankles, which is really quite nice for a change. i feel like a wrinkled prune though. my flight here was terrible. thai airways doesn't have a personal tv screen (daddy duped me into thinking there was!) so i ended up watching stuff from the big screen. not too bad, but there was this one show about ballet dancers which was SO BAD it's even worse than the date movie (which abiel and i will emphatically tell you is not worth watching, even if they paid you to do it. cuz you pay for it with your brain cells). oh my dear god, the director must have been pmsing or something, but the show goes like this.

2 oldish guys, one schwarzenegger like (can u imagine him doing ballet?!??!?!) and another really tired looking girl (ala teri hatcher in desperate housewives) practising for this show. the dancing is really quite enchanting, but the show goes like this. happy, smile smile dance dance, suddenly angry or cry a lot. for no freaking good reason. repeat once a minute for the 2 hour show. gosh how angsty can a ballet dancer get!!

and i am a wrinkled prune cuz 15 hours in a plane makes your skin dry up and my peeling's getting worse. i feel OLD. i need to buy a proper moisturizer for plane flights only. industrial strength will be good. nanny mcphee and the producers were much much better.

aiyoh i am not making much sense anymore, ok just to let people know i am back in uk! err. cheers!