Sheep happens.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Goodbye.

Life's a bitch most of the time.

I don't know why it happened. I know shit happens, but shit doesn't happen to people who was just in the class next to you last year. Shit doesn't happen to 17-year olds. For all you know it could have been your classmate, your good friend.

You.

In loving memory of a Catholic High boy who was, and ever will accompany us in our hearts.

Friday, June 15, 2007

Hospital part 1

It took me exactly two days to recover, not fully, from the effects of my recent hospitalisation. Honestly, I scared the crap out of myself and my parents. I'm sorry, because I surely had scared my life-saving-thank-God-for-them benefactors, tiring them out and klonking myself out in the process. I now make an attempt to recall the happenings on that fateful transition between two days, and this is the first part...

It was supposed to be a happy day, and it was. I should have prayed for a happy, healthy night too. Sadly, I didn't.

Nightfall came, and someone delivered a torture machine right to my head. How nice. The brain-freeze-or-toast, skull-splitting kind of torture machine, all free-of-charge! Sorry, they delivered more than one machine. The supplier had kindly supplied a brand new set of fuzzy-vision eyeballs paired with a totally wicked jelly-legs knee support.

The story is just beginning.

It was the BBQ at the CH Ball Park, and I had no appetite at all. I didn't know why, so I just sat down and drank cup after cup of Pokka Green Tea. The smoke seemed to follow me around wherever I sat, so I finally resigned myself to fate and sat down at a random spot. The smoke went away instantly.

Actually I did have some appetite. I was just waiting for the pizza to come.

I'd stuffed myself with a few panadols throughout the day (two, in fact), and at night while I was just playing around with my brand-new machine and trying to figure out a way to turn it off, Jing Cheng was kind enough to tell me that my body would take approximately 30 days to rid itself of the toxins contained within that small tablet which (I swear it did) had "I-will-save-you" written all over it.

Okay. Not good. I was poisoning myself without even knowing it.

Yuan Hong came along after that and said that I looked exactly as if I was high on alcohol but not yet drunk, just like what he had achieved in Korea. I felt confused, of course, because panadol had no alcohol in it. I began to suspect that the evil pharmacists which had sold the panadol to Wai Kuong before I grabbed hold of it had spiked the panadol, meaning to intoxicate him. No wonder my head didn't feel any better, I was saving someone else the agony of consuming a spiked panadol. TWO spiked panadols. Gosh. I totally forgot what I said to YH after he compared me to being on a high, and I attribute it to the hangover at the hospital.

When I was feeling totally almost-drunk, I decided to set out for home. I figured some sleep would cure me of my subconsciousness, and I thank goodness that the pharmacists didn't spike them panadols enough to blur my ever-decisive mind too much.

It took me about 5 minutes to hobble, walk, tread, crawl, fly, dance, sprint around the whole grandstand packing my bag, and when I did, I took 10 minutes to teleport to the rubbish bin to throw my rubbish away. That was when I knew the machine was not as good as it seemed. It wasn't free because I had to go to the doctor to fix it. Darned suppliers, never gave anything without a catch.

Found some help, collapsed, and sank down into part-oblivion. I can recall only snips of my journey...

Sunday, June 03, 2007

physically gone

I'll be leaving for a pretty short duration, 1 week, not too short but at the same time not too long. At least not long enough for me to fall into the abyss of ignorance.

As usual, want anything, leave a message on tagboard and I'll try to get it.

Have a good hols! (: