Life is....mind-numbing

SIIIIIGGGGGHHHHH

It's like....when there are so many things on your mind, your mind just...becomes numb. I don't know how long I can continue with this neurotic paralysis without feeling guilty, but maybe if I want to grow up (a process I've long resisted, but which has been catalysed in these last two years), then I'm going to have to start putting things into perspective more and more often. And taking part in such an activity just alerts me to the fact that there's really so much to do in order to be part of society. Yeah...if it seems like many things are coming down upon me, I'm just going to have to list them down and sort them out one by one. It's so systematic and seriously I hate system...

And I don't believe in CIP. Please, if I'm wrong in my thinking then please tell me why. But don't give me anotehr side of the story as if this is GP, just give me the truth. Because I feel that CIP is just a ploy to make people become free labour to a company, be it even a non-profit, that can support itself financially by itself. If NKF were truly non-profit, and we were continually donating year in after year, then why in the world did T.T. Durai land up in his mess? I mean if a company could do its own fund raising, then it should! Why get kids to waste their precious time collecting coins at the side of the MRT? As it is, people will walk by them as if they don't exist. So if CIP is meant to cultivate a sense of responsibility to society, then why do we have such characters aplenty? Sometimes, I think that society is the sickest institution around. I feel bad saying this because even when I confessed this notion to my mom, she thought there was something wrong with me. I really don't know why I feel this way, but I will find a reason to do so. Maybe my problem is that I just like to point fingers and not do anything about it myself. But yes, I promise that if I find a CIP activity worth taking part in which will give me pleasure too, like if iinvolves children, or maybe even doing tours at the Ford Motor Factory, I will do it. CIP is meant to be a fulfilling activity, not an obligation. I suppose our home of scholars has just imbibed this urgency to chalk up as many hours as possible in order to have something on their CV or in their portfolios. CIP is nothing a test of your character but is just an entry to university. Down with PEARLS, ka-pui....

Hmm...as for mind-numbs, I've always hated this thing where you're given multiple responsibilities. As far as my life goes, I just want to be involved in ONE thing that I strongly believe in and do it. Anything secondary is counter-productive, or not important.

I suddenly had this thought while lying down this afternoon....maybe certain people lack the ability to analyse and comment critically on issues, but they can weave magic when it comes to philosophy. They have a quirky way of looking at things and can make something familiar seem like a totally different thing to you; a fact of life that is taken for granted can be revealed to be something deeper. These people are probably blessed with a creative, searching mind. I don't know how to describe it properly, but these people are not interested in what's going on this world, but what the world is. They are truly the artistic and not the analytic type.

I was thinking that one day, maybe I should just set up a school or institution for such people so that they can put their gift to maximum use, instead of wasting their talent so much on academia in which they must waste time doing such stuff. In today's world, nobody appreciates a new perspective to life: they just want an 'argument'. My school will cater to the musically, artistically and whatever-other-ly talented individuals, and they will collaborate to produce things like films, or art expositions which combines these arts together. Not only do they meet people who see things differently like they do, they'll learn how to better appreciate how to express their views in other art forms.

Do you think this will save Singapore's mediocore art scene?

My vision

As a band member, I must have total humility as a musician and strive to achieve excellence in whatever I play. I must continually seek to develop my technique before I am able to play as a musician. I must acknowledge that music is a boundless realm and that there's no end to learning, and therefore, I must never be complacent. My sole purpose as a musician is to keep music pure by using it as a means of entertainment, so that when people watch me perform, they will leave the concert saying "I really enjoyed that band!"

We need to have humility because music demands we be humble. If not, we taint it. Competition and conceit will be the fruits of arrogance, and ultimately we we achieve nothing more than infamy and hatred. How does music flourish in such an environment? If it be true music, a sincere person will put up a performance meant not to impress but to express, convict and inspire. But in humility we must understand that not everyone can grow at the same time, so we must consciously embrace them instead of looking down upon them as a liability. We must also realise that no matter how good we are, we are never good enough. There are people out there who understand music much better than we do, and it should become our dedicated effort to achieve that standard. Similarly we must realise that music is a race to achieve perfection, making it a continuous yet paradoxically endless pursuit. Let this very chase be our joy and impetus. Let us not rest on our laurels and become complacent too soon; rather let us be able to enjoy the satisfaction that improving ourselves as players brings. Lastly, let us see music as a form of entertainment and not intimidation. Let people come to our performances because they enjoy themselves the most and not because they wish to see you display your awesome skill only, because that undermines the purpose of playing music. That NJCSB came so far through rote work is nothing wrong: I don't believe in the notion that a talented institution is one that works less. In fact, music calls for its great pursuit, and hard work is 99% of its constitution.

This is how I wish a band could function, and how NJCSB will continue to flourish! :) I hope that people will agree with me on this one.

Told the band to be wary of criticism that we receive about our morning assemblies. I've been hearing a lot of scathing remarks lately which I do not appreciate. It's sad that some people are unable to appreciate the fact that we come so early every morning, forgoing our rest and time that we could spend preparing ourselves for the day just to get ready to play for the school. But even then, although it's a mundane everyday activity that we are made to do, we can't do it half-heartedly. We should do it as if we're doing a service to the school. And since it's our country and school, let us be the forerunners in fanning school and national spirit; by making people proud to be taking part in singing the national and school anthems. Having said that, there is a marked improvement in the morning songs, but undivided attention to me would be much appreciated. It's hard to conduct when people do not watch.

Hmm...I'm now addicted to Aqua again. Read properly...the people who brought you the ultra bimbotic "I'm a Barbie Girl" song. Though they're absolutely absurd, it's amazing how their tunes can stick to your head like glue after 5 years of disappearing. A guy starts singing it in class one day, and suddenly I continue his words. Next thing I know, I'm spewing out all the choruses of the Aqua songs I've heard, after not even hearing them after five years mind you! And when my friend passed me one of their songs, something sounded odd. After listening to a few more songs, I realised that they were fakes...after not hearing the songs after 5 years! I could still remember how the group sounds. And so yes, Aqua is becoming my next turf....

Pop music is darn weird...it's so cool...

Don't Try So Hard

Words that never had meaning before can sometimes jump out at you with fresh reality without warning. These lyrics remind me time and time again that there's no point pressing hard sometimes...

Don't Try Too Hard
Words and music by Queen

If you're searching out for something
Don't try so hard
If you're feeling kinda nothing
Don't try so hard
When your problems seem like mountains
You feel the need to find some answers
You can leave it for another day
Don't try so hard

But if you fall and take a tumble it won't be far
If you fail you mustn't grumble
Thank your lucky stars
Just savour every mouthful
And treasure every moment
When the storms are raging round you
Stay right where you are

Oh don't try so hard
Oh don't take it all to heart
It's only fools they make these rules
Don't try so hard

One day you'll be a sergeant major
Oh you'll be so proud
Screaming out your bloody orders
Hey but not too loud
Polish all your shiny buttons
Dress as lamb instead of mutton
But you never had to try to stand out from the crowd

Oh what a beautiful world
This is the life for me
Oh what a beautiful world
It's the simple life for me

Oh don't try so hard
Oh don't take it all to heart
It's only fools - they make these rules
Don't try so hard
Don't try so hard
Don't try so hard

So when reality pushes hard on you, don't try so hard. Wait, get revitalised and start over again.

And for all the band people out there, here's another Queen song that is particularly relevant to us. Sorry the title isn't too loyal to our philosophy, but it's about the same....

It's A Hard Life
Words and music by Freddie Mercury

I don't want my freedom
There's no reason for living with a broken heart

This is a tricky situation
I've only got myself to blame
It's just a simple fact of life
It can happen to anyone

You win - you lose
It's a chance you have to take with love
Oh yeah - I fell in love
And now you say it's over and I'm falling apart

It's a hard life
To be true lovers together
To love and live forever in each others hearts
It's a long hard fight
To learn to care for each other
To trust in one another right from the start
When you're in love

I try and mend the broken pieces
I try to fight back the tears
They say it's just a state of mind
But it happens to everyone

How it hurts - deep inside
When your love has cut you down to size
Life is tough - on your own
Now I'm waiting for something to fall from the skies
And I'm waiting for love

Yes it's a hard life
Two lovers together
To love and live forever in each others hearts
It's a long hard fight
To learn to care for each other
To trust in one another - right from the start
When you're in love

Yes it's a hard life
In a world that's filled with sorrow
There are people searching for love in ev'ry way
It's a long hard fight
But I'll always live for tomorrow
I'll look back on myself and say I did it for love
Yes I did it for love - for love - oh I did it for love

LOL

Singapore Philatelic Museum and darn it

How wonderful it is that history can be captured in stamps and letters. That is what I found out in the Singapore Philatelic Museum today. Basically letters that were written during the World War II, as well as newpapers during that time were on exhibition. When you read these letters, you're suddenly transported back in time to what it was like back then. Examine the Japanese censorship stickers at the edge of every letter, and read them after that. Imagine how sticky the japanese were about the letters written to POWs when they were imprisoned, and wonder how families could stay together. With only 25 words allowed, how was one able to tell their imprisoned son how much they loved him, or how were they to know how they were doing?

So it was an eye-opening experience, just like last thursdays visit to the Ford Factory.

Yesterday I was grieved by a remark. And it was only confirmed today morning. Yet, the person I trust the most told me it wasn't true. I don't know what to think, when one person thinks in one way and other people think in another way. For example, I became sexy with the history girls in my class when I read out an engravement on the WWI memorial which was in French. One didn't agree and thought I was constipated when I was reading it out. Though I was highly flattered (and realised that maybe I could use this strategy for future purposes), I tend to agree with the girl who thought I was constipated. Why? Because seriously I sound sucky after not speaking the language after one whole year and a half. It's a fact.

As for my airy tone, I don't know what to think about it. Of vibrato I am equally confused. Here I am faced with a similar situation in which a totally alternative view that differs from the norm may be more precise. Coupled with Alex's statement, I do think that my tone has improved. Maybe this is how I should address your views, keeping in mind that the explanation may not be accurate and neither is yours because I feel this is a very complicated issue.

Firstly, I think we all have a different concept of a flute tone. Some people prefer a certain tone which I think is very dead, so long as it's not supposedly airy. I feel that some people's tones are not 'airy' per se but thin. Many people appear to be complacent with that. Now some people confuse an 'airy' tone with a 'thin' tone. On the other hand, some people categorise a tone that has much movement of air as airy. I think that may be a possible explanation, because I feel that I am about achieving reasonably full and pure sound; not perfect but developping. To illustrate this, from experience I have heard two very good flautists who have a seemingly 'airy' tone but very strong and full, and I'm not sure if this seemingly 'airy' tone is the same thing that you hear of me. When I was sitting to the right of Marcus, and when I last heard Marcus play, he had a pulsating overdrive of 'airiness', but as you know his tone is pristine. Similarly, in Guangzhou, the big guy who was performing had a very alluring tone but at the middle register it was very 'airy', with a similar pulsating overdrive of 'airiness'. Now if I'm right in saying that what they produced is what I produce, then maybe the reason to my 'airy' tone is my new embouchure in which I try to expand my jaw cavity and throat, as well as relax my cheeks, together with pushing air out with more abdominal force. I notice that I heard the abovementioned tones more pronounced when I sat to their right, where the end of their flute is. I found the airiness part of the beauty of the sound, because one could tell it complemented the resonance within the air column. Most of the people who complain of my airiness sit to my right...

Another explanation is the wall to my left. A wall will amplify the airiness. I don't know the physics to it but you'll notice that when you play outside the band room it sounds so much nicer than inside the bandroom. But like Hanjie said, the wall is what reveals your true sound. Youzhi says that the linkway makes even a shitty band sound good. Marcus told me never to practice in a reverberant room. My excuse for the wall is a weak one, though, because it is the wall that tells how good your tone is. But seriously, from experience it seems like the wall excessively brings out the airiness. So this is another confusing issue...

Marcus once told me that you will definitely sound airy from close-by; only professionals are able to prevent that airy sound when you listen to them up-close. Alex says that everyone should sound airy. I have thought about it and I now believe that to say that the ideal flute tone should have absolutely no 'airiness' is wrong...the unique blowing mechanism and sound propogation of the flute is its character. Otherwise, it will have as pure a sound as a clarinet or oboe (which gives us a good reason to have respect for these two instruments over the flute). However, Marcus also continued by saying that from afar the airy sound can't be heard. I think that having a full tone is more important than worrying about having an airy tone.

Last and lamest reason is depending on my mood, energy, hydration and weather. And maybe the instrument. There are many instances when I play badly, like when I'm thirsty, tired, or tense. The biggest bummer is this thing called nervousness, especially when it comes to solos. When my turn comes, I become tense immediately and I tend to rely on my glottis to push air out too, which is clearly wrong. Also, my lips get tense, and I misplace my embouchure, and everything goes wrong after that. Solos....bahhhhhh. One reason I admire Daryl's solo last year was because he seemed to exude extreme relaxation when playing his solo, and it came out so naturally; it was beautiful (well I donno whether he was nervous or not haha but it certainly came through as a very confident performance). One learning point we must take from this is the importance of being relaxed, not just emotionally and mentally but physically too. What most people don't realise is that the air passages and embouchure have to be relaxed to get a good tone...and maybe my aversion to that new concept is resulting in an airy tone. Also, I know I'm being stupid by saying this but maybe my flute is bad. Cause I remember that Marcus was unusually airy when I asked him to play last year (he was using my flute). Sorry for sounding accusational here.

My conclusion is that perhaps now the issue here is not so much about airiness because I've gone past that stage. My definition of an airy tone is that of a beginners tone, and if you're implying that that's how I sound, then all my 4 years have gone to waste. However, it is more crucial to develop a broad and full tone (maybe a bit bright because that's another unique characteristic of silver flutes), not get stuck with a thin and dead tone. I believe that I progressing quite far in achieving that big sound, but sometimes I feel that band stifles my progress because with such a big flute section we have to continually play softer than normal, and I've definitely lost my ability to project as well as last time. Playing soft is no easy feat: to the under-trained person it sounds airier. I am also trying to develop my soft tones. It must be like the mf tones, and my ideal tone should be one that rings in your ears hard; it must not be a trivial sound but one that hits you and rings in your head hard...a thin sound is one that doesn't have as much an impact. I hope I'm reaching my ideal sound.

With all that, I must confess that the comments made yesterday spoilt my day. I had a great time in school and I'm sure my mom couldn't understand why I was so happy although I came back extra late yesterday. But after hearing the news being broken, I seriously couldn't sleep. I was tired but my heart was beating hard because I was so traumatised that I couldn't forget about it. I woke up twice at night sweating like mad. I had three dreams but I can't remember even one of them properly. Why would a stupid comment that you're airy affect me so much? One's tone is his identity. I can probably distinguish most of the flautists by their tone alone. Your tone shows how much effort and time you put into your instrument. It therefore shows your love for it. Your tone is also what draws people to your music. A controlled tone and flexibility of tone is what helps you create music. So that's why it is such an important aspect to me.

And although I am improving slowly, I am not pleased with my progress. I'm sure people would generally disagree that I sound very good, and even I think so. My tone is nothing impressive. Still I won't let the fact that I am like the second youngest flautist in my section put me down; I will continue on this never ending quest to find the best tone, and to achieve excellent control of my instrument.

The Second year

The JC life is a test of mental strength more than anything. I realised that although some people are dying just trying to catch up, some people are cruising and accomplishing so much, just like how I used to see the 'O' level year. No kick. These last two three weeks, I have managed my time in such a way that I didn't need to excessively stay up late, and in fact I had time to slack. Now, I'm back to getting into trouble for not doing work.

Although there are so many things to think about, if we learn to prioritise our time and plan ahead, we won't have problems. In the process we need to sacrifice certain things we like or certain lifestyle aspects. The way I work it out is by just using my weekends to slack, sleep, and then chiong all the homework I might need to do for the next week. Then during the week I can take it easy and concentrate on other things. But that means my weekends are bland and boring, but nothing's new. I've always been bland and boring.

Then the next problem is telling your mind that it is capable of doing the so many things that you need to do. For the last two weeks, I've been so complacent and when things started piling up, I reverted back to the mentality that I'm just Craig and can't do all things. So I started back on my old habit where just thnking of something made me feel stressed...as if it were so repulsive that I couldn't just merely cope thinking about it. But in actual fact, I CAN do it. Then in that case, it's just the case of adjusting my mindset.

Maybe instead of moping about and complaining about how we can't cope, and overating things by saying that you need to put in a LOT of effort and discipline to survive, we just have to put things in perspective, make small changes and tell yourselves we can do it. Then we can have peace of mind instead of being so pressed down all the time.

I hope people actually read this because I think that it's important. A lot of people are feeling down for no good reason. But considering how void my blog has been of comments and tags, there'd probably be nobody caring i existed. Hmm...I can now be a bit more offensive on my blog, knowing that there are not as many people reading it. muahahahaha

the 16th of February

16th February: a watershed incident occured, so frightening that till this day it is still commemorated, and used as a reminder to the younger generation.

Singapore was renamed Syonan-to. Only our forefathers knew how gripping a simple change of name could be. To them, it was more than just that: the change in name was a thoughtless defilement of what the country identified itself as. It was an indication that the japanese had taken full and undisputed ownership of the country.

Think about the Sook Ching operation. As if the brutality that the invaders showed on the fateful day of the massacre at the hospital wasn't enough, vengeance would be poured out on the Chinese, who resisted Japanese hegemony very violently. The only thing that could make up for the hindering of an expanding power was the blood of the hindrance. Imagine yourself being herded into trucks and being sent to places cursed enough to be designated as the shooting squadrons turf. You're pulled out and aligned with the rest in a single file. After more brutality, your back faces the gun. Uncertainty pervades the mind; you can't believe that your end came so suddenly, without there being a purpose to your annihilation. Fear for your life racks your body as you suddenly realise the true gravity of the situation. You want to hold on to your life as hard as possible even before the killing has started.When the bullets start firing, the sound of death surrounds you in such a way that you can't locate it. You wonder if you're dead yet or not. The sound seems to be deceptive: petrification partially marrs your ability to predict your impending doom. In hopeless frustration you just give up and surrender to death's beckoning, letting it take you when it fancies. Without you knowing it, ammunition penetrates your vital organs and begins your slow and painful death. It's finally happened. It's over. Somehow, it's no different from what you normally experience in your life: where so much happens in precedence to the event and when it's over, it just feels, like that. Except in this case, your life has come to an end.

The visit around the museum opened my eyes to the horror of war. It's hard to even conceive how crazed people could be to come and wipe out an entire hospital of innocent and helpless patients and doctors. How people were treated like dirt. Why a lie was promised to them: that they'd be liberated from their colonialists and be able to enjoy a greater future. How people could turn against each other.

I think that the Valentine's day of 1942 was the worst one ever.

The Irony of Valentine's day.

Hail Bishop Valentine! whose day this is;
All the air is thy diocese,
And all the chirping choristers
And other birds are thy parishioners:
Thou marryest ever year
The lyric lark and the grave whispering dove;
The sparrow that neglects his life for love,
The household bird with the red stomarcher;
Celebrations
Thous mak'st the blackbird speed as soon,
As doth the goldfinch or the halcyon . . .
This day more cheerfully than ever shine,
This day which might inflame thyself,
old Valentine!

-John Donne

The brief history of Valentine's day: Although all acknowledge that there is no one true story, many people believe it originated from a pagan Roman festival called Lubercus, a day set aside to worship the god Lupercus who would protect sheep from wolves, as well as to honour the goddess Juno Februata. The custom was to put the names of girls in a box and the boys would pick a name, and the girl whom he gets will be his 'partner' for the rest of the year.

After that, St. Valentine comes in. Roman Catholics attempted to 'Christianise' the pagan celebration by substituting girls with the name of Saints, and after choosing their saint the boy would try to emulate his character for the rest of the year. Apparently the boys grew tired of it and reverted back to picking girls instead, those horny people. Now there are a few versions to the St. Valentine story, one in which he's a bold priest who continues marrying couples although the emperor Claudius prohibited it so he could recruit more males into the army. In another version, Valentine falls in love with the jailers daughter, regularly sending her letters signed off with "From your Valentine". The poem above shows how Valentine's day was associated with their belief that birds chose their mates on that day (probably the origin of the term 'lovebirds'?).

Anyhow, even with a brief comparison between the past and the present, you'd realise that somehow the true meaning of Valentine's day has been lost once again to the evils of commercialism, having become the 'second Christmas'. It's evident that people splurge their money on their loved ones on this day thinking that their material gift will embody the true meaning of Valentine's day. Take for example how romance is so dead in Singapore that Valentine's day seems to be the only time that couples might actually do something together or get each other something (oh and it's more likely the guy who does it so there's another point for the feminists). I have an objection with this practice.

For many centuries that have long gone, girls were randomly chosen by boys and they had to be somewhat 'paired' for the rest of the year. There are a few implications of course: if you get a horrid person or a not-so-pleasant looking girl, you're stuck. But the fact that they stayed with their partner for a year shows that commitment and true love were core values. The actions berthed from the love-crazed mind of Valentine exuded true yet irrational dedication. In the end, all these qualities seem to have been lost in this day and age. Everyone gives each other gifts...I got so many chocolates today that I'll be too fat for my 2.4km tmrw. Somehow, by doing that, it dilutes the wonder of the occasion because everyone plus (or maybe minus) your loved one gets a present. And then, the whole focus is shifted to giving and getting, just like Christmas. And it's not the giver and getter who profits in the end: it's the people who sell these gifts.

In the end, people turn to roses bought instantly off the shelves of the florist, or chocolates from the shelves of a store, or maybe some flowers from the OAC as a quick 11th-hour gift. I wonder how much one expresses himself to the other person on that day with all the giving and getting. Valentine didn't tell his warden to get a box of chocolates and deliver them to his beloved girl; he wrote letters expressing what was in his heart of hearts, whilst in jail. To me, the ideal Valentine's day gift would be a letter (but please send a couple of chocolates la). I appreciate it if you give me more words than eatables, seriously, because I feel that there's no alternative method of expressing oneself than through words: it is the ultimate in doing so. Apart from that, if one desires to give someone a rose, then shouldn't be something that is grown by himself, so that his giving of the flower to the girl reflect the time , sweat and love he's taken into cultivating it?

Due to my lack of time, I shall end my GP essay here and watch Monk!!!

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!

Patience

Wow...it seems like patience can be a very rare commodity in my place nowadays. There's just too much noise and listlessness from the young ones for the older ones to take. It appears that it's genetics that we have problems keeping our cool.

That's what worries me sometimes. This thing about keeping my cool. I'm a very weird human being in the sense that I can have different personalities depending on the situation. When we're happy-go-lucky, I can be really crazy. When it's time to be serious, I can be dead serious. When the situation seems to be a bit tense, I can get quite hot-headed. Maybe having many personalities is a personality. Maybe then again, what I said is complete nonsense because I don't quite understand yet what a personality is.

But knowing that I have a tendency to swing from one extreme to the other, I need to costantly keep myself in check, so that I don't get caught off-guard when I become mad and I'm still in my playful mode. Wah...it can be quite a circus act keeping my emotions in check...

Somehow, I daresay that I am one of the most patient people in my family. But it's even more dangerous. Because I still get angry easily, then the bottling up effect is even more pronounced. Let me describe to you what I'm like in comparison to a bottle of coke.

If you say or do something that has the potential to make me angry, you're filling my empty coke bottle with coke, while shaking it. Initially, this doesn't pose much of a danger when it's still more empty than full, but as it gets more full, there's the risk of it fizzing. Fill it to the brim and leave the cap there. Things are still pretty ok it seems, but you can see the bubbles swimming wildly in the bottle. Similarly, if you start pushing my limits, I start to show a bit of displeasure. If it's well shaken, disaster lies in the uncapping. When I finally can't take it anymore, the drink will fizz out and the place will be a mess. That's the explosion, and I dread to see that day come, though it's reaching. But stop shaking it, and stop agitating the drink, and the gas will slowly and naturally escape through the cap. Day by day, the drink loses its fizz and its destructive capacity. After a while, even if the cap opens, nothing much will happen.

Currently, if my cap opens it's probably after a quite a comfortable amount of time of stillness, so I don't explode too badly. But if things get really hectic and things fly at me all at a time, watch out. I think it's quite possible.

Some people say that we should control our anger to the fullest. Because if we can't, we will hurt people. What therefore confuses me is, is it fair that other people continue doing what they have to do so that you just keep on getting hurt instead? Who then should sit in the seat of morality and dictate the other party how he should act? We have to consider the cause of anger. In my case, when someone is ignorant and oblivious, sloppy and tardy, late and lackadaisical, then I will get impatient. I usually am very very patient with people who can't play up to my supposed standard because I understand that different people have different abilities, whereas everyone can behave like a normal responsible human being. Now if such defiant people continue to behave the way they do, they need shaking up to discipline them. Being patient and tolerant is senseless and in fact does double damage: they don't change their ways, and your fizz continues building up. So in this case, a bit of throwing temper is healthy and effective. And maybe I shouldn't be so scared to do it next time.

On the other hand, people will not realise they are doing is wrong and if they get punished, will just be more resentful. Bah I hate these kind of people.

I realised something really saddening today while my parents were talking. Just randomly, they said something like "wow Keona is speaking blablabla...and Craig when he was her age was unintelligible", "yeah, Mrs D'Souza his teacher never understood what he said, but he just loved to blabber". Oh, I had a kindergarten teacher called Mrs D'Souza. Man, that pierced me heart. Imagine that it was my pre-school destiny to talk a lot and not be understood, something like a curse! But though this seems so depressing since t affects me emotionally sometimes that I just seem so misunderstood, it kinda makes me appreciate myself as a human being more. You know, the more you understand your weaknesses, the more you love and accept yourself. In fact, I find it amusing! Craig's character is defined by his inability to be understood even when he's being as clear as possible.

Sucks. How can I have an artistic edge and not be able to communicate.

Life is hard.

My Journey to B.P. and something strange at the busstop

As usual my day begins on a bad note with the 156 screwing up my schedule and making me ten minutes late for my own meeting. And then we have the meeting and it got quite interesting. I think a lot of problems and misconceptions surfaced and now I have a better idea on how to address them.

After I returned from band, slept and tried to solve the great mystery as to why human beings don't reproduce asexually, I took the liberty to cycle around the neighbourhood. My mom blurted out that I should go to Bishan park, and then she said I should hang around the neighbourhood instead. So I took her initial advice, along with a huge bout of adventure and pedalled there. It took me 15 minutes to get there, and after that I sailed through the tranquil park. Saw some people videoing something for a commercial I think (or maybe some drama or local soap opera). The last time I saw something being recorded for television was two Christmases ago in J8. Hmm...I should've tried to cycle in the background then I would've been on TV. Bah...

And then the unthinkable happened. I feared it might happen while reaching the end of the park because I could feel the instability under my right foot. And then just when I was making my journey back home, my right pedal snapped. The old man cycling behind me must've been sniggering. I got off at a grassy patch along the pavement and scrutinised the damaged part. It was irreparable at that point in time: I needed some tool to fix it. So I had to do the worst thing possible: walk back home with a bike. How ironic.

So the world saw what a weirdo I am. First, I tried to cycle with one pedal, and that proved to be counter-productive. I saw a couple of banglas laughing at me. Then, I thought I'd act a bit macho and carry my bike with my right arm and jog home. That was stupid and I got a couple of bruises and cuts on my leg. I decided to abandon the idea of carrying the bike on my back army style because I'd only kill everyone I passed on the pavement.

So for a gruelling half an hour I made my way home, alternating between walking and slow jogging while rolling my bike. Fortunately, there were plenty of lights were I could catch my breath, and a downhill where I just sat on my bike and let gravity do the rest.

That was the most well spent one hour of exercising I have done in my life.

At the bus stop, I was very surprised that someone I didn't know very well smiled at me very casually, but it was something so powerful that as I think back, I can only recall how I could've blankly stared back in response. How idiotic. That person happened to be my mortal, who still hasn't replied to my letter. She happens to be from Adrian Lim's school (sekolah menengah kebangsaan daman seri jaya blablabla who knows), and I was telling my classmate Lee Min once how all of them carry an 'air' of prestige wherever they go. Tempted I was to continue feeling indignant at the fact that she still hasn't replied to my letter, but I was just absolutely zapped by the fact that we hardly met or know each other and she was courteous enough to acknowledge my presence. I know full well who she is, but does she know who I am? So that's why I'm confused. What was more mesmerising was the way she had no withdrawn feelings about just smiling; she just did it, and at the same time she exuded a feeling of confidence and, strangely enough, individuality. It was certainly as if she made her own presence strongly felt, a tangible presence where it seemed like you knew exactly who she was for years, and she knew who you were too. Man this is weird. Adrian once told me that its amazing what a simple smile can do to people in the college. I think this is probably some kind of philosophy in their school. Her really pleasant action completely took my mind of the fact that I got betrayed by a 157.

Ah well. Three more days to the most unmeaningful day in the world. I shall do research on the topic so that on the day itself I shall prepare an essay denouncing the evils of Valentine's day.

SBS and LTA

I've been meaning to do this for a very very long time...ever since last year...

@#$@$#!@$!# YOU SBS! WHY CAN'T YOUR BUSES JUST COME AT REGULAR INTERVALS!!! WHY DO THEY ALWAYS TAKE SO LONG WHEN PEOPLE REALLY NEED THEM!!! WHY IS YOUR FREQUENCY SO ERRATIC 156???? WHY CAN'T YOU JUST COME EVERY 15 MINUTES EVERYDAY????!!!!!!

%$&*%*%^& PASSENGERS WHO RIDE BUSES!!! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE CIVIL AND TRY TO MAKE SPACE FOR PEOPLE WHO NEED TO COME IN???? WHY CAN'T YOU SHARE THE SAME FRUSTRATION THEY FEEL WHEN THEY ARE CRAMPED LIKE SARDINES IN THE FRONT WHILE YOU HAVE ACRES OF SPACE AT THE BACK TO YOURSELVES??? WHY CAN'T YOU MOVE INTO THE INSIDE OF YOUR SEATS INSTEAD OF MAKING OTHER PEOPLE SQUEEZE IN? WHY CAN'T YOU GIVE THEM SUFFICIENT SPACE TO MOVE OUT OF THE WINDOW SEATS??? WHY DO YOU STARE AT A PROBLEMATIC SITUATION LIKE UNEDUCATED IDIOTS WHEN YOU YOURSELF CAN SOLVE THE PROBLEM???? ARE YOU THAT INCAPABLE OF THINKING? ARE YOU THAT LACKING IN COURTESY??? OR HUMANITY FOR THAT MATTER??!?!!?!?

YOU IRRESPONSIBLE BUS DRIVERS!!!! WHY DO YOU PUT YOUR PASSENGERS LIVES IN PERIL???? CAN'T YOU DRIVE AT A SPEED THAT WON'T SEND EVERYONE FLYING AROUND THE PLACE??? HOW COULD YOU TAKE OFF WITHOUT CLOSING THE DOORS WHEN THERE ARE PEOPLE ON BOARD??? WERE YOU JUST FORGETFUL, OR MANIACAL ENOUGH TO DO SUCH A DIRTY DEED???? WHY DO YOU PUT YOUR OWN JOB AND FUTURE AT STAKE???? WHY DO YOU PUT OTHERS' LIVES AT STAKE????????????

I just tried to take a shortcut home by taking an 852 to MacRitchie and changing over to 156. When it came...it was jammed, and the driver tried to kill the passengers inside by not closing the doors before going. Obviously it had reached late. Expecting there to be another one coming soon, I wait patiently, but after half an hour, so are 15 other people. The damned bus took so long to come!!!! So I expected to reach home at 7 50, half an hour after band ended, but instead I reached at 8 30. What a bout of bad luck. Why does this happen to me of all 6 billion people in the world???

Today has really been a rocky ride for me hormonally. First, the road run...I managed to do quite decently, running the whole stretch, but that was adrenaline inducing. Then, that stupid rehearsal for Total Defence day was a waste of time. It just got me feeling darn hot and dehydrating me...and we got nothing done. I carried my heat and thirst to band and had to tune the band. As usual I was disoriented and clueless. Bloody hell...something is defintely wrong with my ears...I just can't seem to detect pitch like last time...especially the bass instruments. Why do I cock up at the bassoons? Arrgghhhh...I seek your forgiveness. Shucks. I'll just stick to tuning one at a time. Mr Ho was waiting...ARRRGGGHHHHHHH. Stress stress stress...then even after tuning they weren't in tune. I can't remember some of the juniors' names. Sheessshhh. Bad bad bad. When I sit down, my pencils keep dropping. My bottle too. I wanted so badly to drink water to relieve my throat but Mr Ho kept asking me to play the solo...so it's lunge for bottle, fail, play, lunge for bottle, fail, play....cycle goes on. And what couldn't I understand about Mr Ho was saying???? Just hold the note value and play lightly!! It's so simple yet it couldn't get in through my thick skull. Man I suck. Totally.

Then the bus. Just when I thought my day could end nicely with American Idol. Dang it...

When will the week turn better???

On the other hand, good news. I didn't get into Pre-U sem!!!!

Something doesn't feel right...

Arghh..realised actually that during yesterday's dinner, I was missing a particular person, or rather, something, that I wish I could've had at my disposal easily. Reading about other people in my life, this thing came down even more heavily upon me.

Remember how I said that no matter where music takes me, or how my growth in music is; no matter how the band scene in Singapore changes; no matter which band rightfully reigns supreme, or if a band dare mock mine; no matter how some individuals possess natural talent that it seems plain unfair, I always want there to be people to perform for me. Though it sound selfish, if I truly appreciate the beauty of the art then I don't want it to die out in my life.

How I saw the trip to the conservatory as a blessing last year. I was so amazed at the players there I didn't even want to ask questions; I didn't want any tutelage of any form; I was just waiting for the next person to draw out her/his (minority la) flute and play. Because I know that I have nowhere mastered the art of playing music, someone who is of better knowledge always allures me. Through that person I see music through a whole different lens and I see a realisation of what I do considerably passionately.

I feel the urge to attack two groups of people: one is the type that labels themselves band freaks, and another type that is awed by such wonderful players to the point of paralysis. I don't ever want to call myself a band freak: Music freak, yes. If you narrow your paradigm into thinking that band forms of music are the only ones worth listening to, then you haven't seen the world. On one hand, don't think that band music is the origin of all musical forms and genres, or is the supreme one. Don't forget that classical music is the father of band music and so many other types of music. On the other hand, don't look at modern music with contempt because then you fail to see music as a historical continuation and then you miss out on something important. For that reason, I don't denounce rock music as unfit for my ears and as far as possible I want to enjoy all sorts of music as possible. Hopefully, people will realise that music they see as complicated and at the highest level of appreciation is actually not complicated at all; I hope they find that music they find simple is deceptive and actually more intricate than they think. I hope they don't find thrill in rushing through running notes, but learn to enjoy music as a creative combination of sounds, patterns and structure. I hope they don't see melody as the meaning of the song; the harmony tells a story too. Many people who are self-proclaimed band freaks may not realise this for the very reason that they enjoy listening to 'band' and not 'music'. 'Band' is actually more the organisation of people than what the people do.

Then, people who give too much respect to the point of numbness must realise that such players are only the way they are because of diligence and pure pure passion. The only reason we're excessively amazed by them is because they are the culmination of what we're not: I realise this bitterly. I still find myself the most hypocritical musician because the passion I exude is a lie: if you see people like this, you know what passion is. My discipline rarely manifests. Then how can it manifest in the people who are under me. Anyway, if you stay calm and listen and look deeper at what these players do, you will actually realise that they tell a story that you never quite picked up before you listened properly. There is really a message behind their superior tones and technique. In summary, we must be awed at 'what' they play, and not 'how' they play.

Shucks this became longer than i expected...wanted to keep it to two short paragraphs.

So when I hear of people who are darn good players, I don't want to prod and push so that I can see for myself. I have an absolutely critical view of what a good player is, and the most important criteria is that it's someone I'm not. And when I find such people, I want to just enjoy their presence and become good friends with them. Who knows, I may pick up a few thigs from them. The bottom line is, even when I grow old, and if by any chance, I abandon what I do now, I still want to have people like this in my life whom I can enjoy. Just imagine: one day when I'm 30 something and I have extra time, I can go for a good friend's recital and still enjoy what I've somewhat put behind me. Or, perhaps when I'm in my fourties, news like James Galway comes to Singapore, or TKWO is coming back to perform, or Jean-Pierre Rampal resurrected from the dead and wants to play the flute with a vengeance will excite me. In other words, I want to be part of what Dr. Daniel observed during Bandfusion 2005: the class with the most number of people going for concerts being youths between 14-19 or something like that. Then I can be a testament in a little way that something right has been done in the music scene in Singapore.

One goal I have in my life is to listen to a full orchestra concert, though I've seen small ones before. Secondly, I would like to be close friends with a good performer, whom I can visit and have a cup of tea with, talk about life, and then be treated to a good recital, or free tickets. Lastly, if it be possible anytime soon, I would like to finally take up Marcus' suggestion of getting a teacher to start lessons with. I think that's the only way I can start developping myself better.

And just to qualify myself about rock music, if tomorrow (touch wood) James Galway were to die, and all the members of the London Symphonic Orchestra met their doom, Maestros all over the world lost their limbs, and Jean-Pierre Rampal still remains dead, then I would still find a good rock group to be attached to and appreciate. There are many singers out there who sing well and are well-behaved, if you know what I mean. Take my seemingly idolic Queen: after watching the concert I was still left with the same feeling I have watching any other good performance of any kind. It's not the type of music but the type of show they put up. It's entertainment; that's what musicians do.

NJCSB reunion dinner and...somethings else

Decided to be a bit colourful today...

So though this is half of the Flu-boe section of last year, the picture is precious. And in the words of Karwai, I'm the lucky guy... :P

NJCSB's reunion dinner was held at some club thing at Bukit Gombak. Anderson people had to fly there by train after alumni practice. At the MRT station, I was surprised to find not only clarinet people (a prospect that added to my reluctance to follow siewhan and pauline), but also, one Eupho junior guy!!!

So touching on this issue of juniors, I was pleased to see the ACSi guy there, as well as Joe and Julian who had come. Another two members from the Lower WW/Eupho section showed up. Apart from these two sections, one oboe junior came (Lynn) and a clarinet guy came. But I think that was all....this is sad because I made a promise to attend this year's reunion dinner since so many J1s went last year (when I was J1 lah). Compared to the overwhelming number of juniors who came last year, this year held a meagre sum. Not trying to be an analyst or writer for the commentary, but...it is a pity because I'm absolutely sure that the J3s would've wanted to see the next generation of NJCSB.

Ah well movin onto less boring issues, my dear Boyang came back. When he walked in through the door, I made sure I made my welcome to him as clear as possible by initiating a VIP applause for him, which immediately prompted him to save himself by fleeing to the already full clarinet table! As a result, he was ousted to the Flu-boe table where he sat next to me!

To prove that he hasn't lost his absurdity that he is, I opened my bag a little while later and find something blood-curdling...inside my bag is a wallet, pencil box and handphone that doesn't belong to me! Nervous impulses fire through my mind, searching for the weird person who dropped these items into my bag...possibly in Anderson...or perhaps this wasn't my bag? And then I find out later on that it belongs to him

-_-''

After that, he starts asking me where I live so that my dad can give him a ride...what an advantage-taker he is. With a skillful slip of the tongue he later admits that he doesn't have a dad...whoops I mean his dad doesn't have a car to pick him up with

-_-''

Ok enough of his defamation. The food was good. The conversations were...fairly good considering I was not on the same wave length as other people. Man some people oughta be more general in their conversatoins, or try not to speak in Chinese. Bingo, charades and some guess the song game constituted the games session. Grrrrr....I was the one who arranged the numbers for Bingo and while every other table was begining to call, our table only had 2 strike-outs. Jinxxxx....

After all the fun photos and yakking, it was time to go home. And since I completely lost track of what was happening, I missed the chance to go home by taxi...and then I took more than an hour to get back home. SO I reached at midnight....nutssss...now I scold myself and tell myself to keep my wits about me and not let a minor detail affect my judgement. 'nuff about that...

Felt compelled to talk about the wonders of love...the Chinese have this proverb for the wonders of a first love which I had no intention of putting up in my blog because I don't know what it is anyway. But isn't it amazing, yet terrible, how it can make you so bubbly and joyful, yet terrified and reclusive all of a sudden? It is the same feeling that makes one think of another person all the time, and at other times enshrouds that person in indefinite mystery. This beautiful and unfathomable combination of feelings is what makes one want to take a step and get familiar with that person more and more. A mysterious liaison is established as far as that step is taken...

...but it seems that all this is so pristine until other things contaminate it, like the nosiness of the cruel outside world. Evil co-factors such as jealousy and competitiveness taint it. How sadly such a beautiful mystery is depreciated to another lowly thing of the world. How can one keep it in its purest form?

I have no experience and do not wish to experiment as of yet...

They say love is blind and everything looks rosy through the lens of love. All rationality dissolves in its presence. To appreciate the wonder of this mysterious sentiment is easy, but keeping your rationality in check is hard. That is why, I feel that many adolescents have an issue with matters of the heart such as these. It may form part of their identity as it is part of their system of values and beliefs. But whatever it may be, and however you may see this topic, one must always find and decide upon the true value of love and keep it from being tainted. I think that'll keep us from becoming dirty people hahaha.