and so it happened again. i have reached a certain point where i will slug some guy in the face and break his nose the next time we play an expat team. its only half way through and my frustration is at a peak. maybe if i tackle some white dude and break his leg or just break SOMETHING OF HIS to leave him wirthing in pain i will feel some what relieved. winning a game will also go a long way in providing some relief.

every game its the same story they run us down and laugh at us. to them we don't know how to play - we're just the whipping boys. the previous game that sonofabitch just broke the line scored and screamed out "who's your daddy!" today another white sonofabitch said "if you fucking do that again i will break your neck". an old hand once told me, i remember what they put me through and i train hard, waiting for the day to give it back ten-fold. in due time. in due time.

i'm not the kind who lets things go easily. i'm the vengeful sort. full of hate,anger frustration, revenge it seems to be the norm, life's kind of weird without it.

and we rode in the car, singing along to pop and life feels like it just ain't that bad.

I sold my soul for the second time
Cos the man, he don't pay me
I begged my landlord for some more time
He said "Son, the bills waiting"

My best friend called me the other night
He said "Man, are you crazy?"
My girlfriend told me to get a life
She said "boy, you lazy"

But I don't mind
As long as there's a bed beneath the stars that shine
I'll be fine
If you give me a minute
A mans got a limit
You cant get a life if your hearts' not in it
I don't mind
As long as there's a bed beneath the stars that shine
I'll be fine
If you give me a minute
A mans got a limit
I cant get a life if my hearts' not in it
I lost my faith in the summertime
Cos it don't stop raining
The sky all day's as black as night
But I love complaining

I begged my doctor for one more line
He said "Son, words fail me"
It ain't no place to be killing time
But I guess I'm just lazy

I don't mind
As long as there's a bed beneath the stars that shine
I'll be fine
If you give me a minute
A mans got a limit
I cant get a life if my hearts' not in it

oasis - the importance of being idle

so in the 'House of Pain' that is the Carisbrook Oval in Dunedin, New Zealand my beloved boks were ( to quote scrum.com ) 'put to the sword'. 31 - 27 is more akin to a fight to the death than being put to the sword in my opinion. there's just something special about the All Blacks when they play in Dunedin that makes them unbeatable. today's Haka was different from the usual and the most striking moment was probably the time when they drew their thumbs across their throats - symbolic.

josiah and david didn't like the way south africa played and the word 'dirty' was definitely used more often than not. well, maybe. its just the character of the team that appeals to me. get what i mean? the all blacks are a lot about flair but South africa is like a machine - the big hits from dudes like schalk burger and de wet barry. its just the way they throw themselves into the rucks and tackles without any form of self regard that i look up to.

rugby's probably the only thing i'm not bored of in this place.

I'm at the crossroads waiting for a sign
My life is standing still, but I'm still alive
Every night I think I know
In the morning where did he go
The answers disappear when I open my eyes

I'm no stranger to this place
Where real life and dreams collide
And even though I fall from grace
I will keep the dream alive

Which brings (Jake) White to the foundation stone of his pattern.

He summised long ago that the typical South African player seeks physical dominance over his opponent -- a raw, aggressive mentality embedded in the country's history.

which so summarizes our current problem. physical dominance or -ahem- being dominated.

i hate getting pushed around and trampled on in every aspect of life. i am fucking frustrated.

TIS ONLY IN THEIR DREAMS THAT MEN TRULY BE FREE,
'TWAS ALWAYS THUS, AND ALWAYS THUS WILL BE. -KEATING

21st August 2005

got drubbed by another fucking arrogant expatriate team. maybe now i know how the other schools felt when we belted them by cricket scores. i hate losing. i loathe getting thrashed. goddamnmotherfucking caucasian trash think every game against us is a fucking walk in the park, what the fuck are we doing.

have i ever said how much i hate taking money from my parents and having to listen to my mother bitch about my spending habits? I FUCKING HATE IT.i can't wait to fuck off and live by myself, earn my own money, spend it the way i want to.

and we sat in his balcony, drinking beer and wine, savouring the home-made jam - each filled with our own frustrations with life. all waiting to go back onto the road that will take us forward in life, some days away from it, others months off.when will that fucking time come when we can get together and chill without feeling that everything is just not going for us at all.

there'll be the day when we can tell the people at the next table, so what if you don't like us making noise? are you enjoying your lamb? well its on me now can you FUCK OFF FROM MY HOTEL???

when i become rich i'll remember to be grateful to those who stood by me and guided me along the way, and yes i'll be the most horrible bastard in the whole damn universe to those who stand in my way.

i would love to give the fucker who tries to cut my lane the middle finger when i drive along the road in my flashy convertible. speed by his fucking toyota or honda and shout FUCK OFF LOSER. maybe he'll stop for a fight and i'll take his head and use it to smash his windscreen into smithereens. then he'll try to sue me but what's he gonna do when i have money and influence to get the best lawyers?

there's something wrong with me these days. the frustrations just can't stop growing.

And as the summer's ending,
The cool air will put your hard heart away.
You were so condescending...
And this is all that's left:
Scraping paper to document.
I've packed a change of clothes and it's time to move on

C div finals

so they strut out arrogantly onto their pitch in their blue and white,doing their dismal copy of the New Zealand Haka. maybe these days the blue and yellow don't strike fear into the hearts of their opponents as they used to do in the past, but there was no fear in them, just a quiet confidence. these boys stared unflinchingly into the challenge issued by the Saints before huddling together to pray.

i started out thinking i was going to support Saints (as my friends and former enemies can testify i am not a big fan of ACS) but their arrogance and the quiet underdog-type confidence of the boys in blue and yellow reminded me of us last year and i had a complete change of heart just as the whistle blew for the kickoff.

and the huge saints rumbled on for the first try of the game, just keeping the ball and taking it in tight. at this time i found myself sitting with the RI boys and talking with next year's B div captain, who said that the Saints would whitewash ACS. i have never seen this team play before but i told him that mentally ACS was very strong and would never fold without giving a very hard fight, it would take the hand of fate or an inhuman committment and aggression from the opposition to beat them.i was right, a couple of minutes later ACS put their first points on the board with a converted try. minutes later, a penalty from the boot of their impressive kicker who eventually had a 100% conversion rate brought the score up to 10-7 in favour of ACS.

didn't catch the moment of flair from the saints backline whose chip and chase led to a try because i was trying to get food from the refreshments table with zhu and justin but yeah it put the score up to 12-10 in favour of SAS. henceforth the saints faded, their huge forward pack obviously tiring out while the smaller, tighter, fitter and more committed boys in the blue and yellow continued to pile into the rucks and mauls like men possessed. infringement after infringement followed and were duly punished by the impeccable boot of the AC kicker to eventually bring the score up to 16-12 before oakley finally brought the curtain down at the final whistle.

the passion and guts of the boys in yellow and blue won through in the end. the cheer of the crowd as their captain lifted the championship shield with a fierce roar made me nostalgic for the days gone by. the resultant brief feeling that you are on top of the world cannot be bought with all the money in the world, it can only be earned through blood, sweat, tears, and comradeship, amplified by the pride in the emblem etched on the left breast. despite what elisha said i had to watch these boys of 14 years of age do the real Haka. I was right, their passion and pride made it as electrifying as the All Blacks on Starsports. there is something you can learn from everyone you meet, today the essence of life was revealed to me: there is really nothing as important as pride and passion.

Dreams.

on the cab back we were talking about the scholars,were they selling out for an iron rice bowl? some of them are the most outstanding products of our education system, i say some because there are those that are hardly up to the calibre, they could be the stars that will put us on the world market in the fields they choose to venture into, but instead they choose to serve in the government and its subsidaries.they chase the Singapore dream of security above all else, one's freedom of choice is a small price to pay in exchange for security - or is it?

and i realize that the Singapore Dream can never be an ideal as greatly widespread as the American version because its not open to everyone but only to the select few - willingness to slave being an immense criteria. freedom and the rights of the individual was never the foundation of the dream.

maybe some never craved the Singapore Dream. they dreamed of the freedoms of the foreign land, took the scholarship that gave them a chance to enjoy it temporarily and at the end they realize the 6 years bondage that await them on their return. of course, there are those who exercise individual freedom leading to gross irresponsibility and refuse to serve their bond. crucified in the press, they used to be my heroes because they were willing to give up everything to chase their true dreams. these days, i still compliment them for chasing their own dreams but i disapprove of the way they do it. imagine those who really believe in the Singapore Dream but don't get their scholarship, it would be disastrous if they are passed up for someone who is using the scholarship as a path to desert. everyone has a freedom of choice and to pursue their dream, be it a Singapore Dream, an American dream and what not - as long as you don't fuck up someone else's life as a by product.

a few days ago, isabelle asked me why i liked America so much. i have been thinking about it, and i realize America does have a million flaws but it is the promises on which it was built on that attracts me - the value of the individual, freedom, a new beginning, the ability to be anything you want to be as long as you're willing to work hard. to quote Taylor, "these emigrants were the best of their race - the adventurous, the independent, the men who might have made Germany a free and civilized country. They brought to America a contribution of inestimable value, but they were lost to Germany. They, the best Germans, showed their opinion of Germany by leaving it forever." despite the differences one similarity is certain, they were sick of how things were being run in their indigenious land and sought to start life anew in the new world.

the system rejects me for being who i am instead of who they want me to be, i am deemed as flawed. to be who i am, and to fulfill my individual potential i will gladly take my leave.

respect is always earned and never given for free.i will never bow down and grovel at anyone's feet - least of all to a slow big fat expat that looks like Fat Bastard straight out of the Austin Powers movie.

the game is addictive. i love the rush of adrenaline and the ferocity of competition, life's boring without it.

i cannot imagine staying in singapore to do university, i think i'd rather run away to Australia to surf everyday and sweep the floor until i have enough money to own a chinese take away selling Chop Suey. awesome idea eh? and the wait continues.

Land of the free Home of the Brave

Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars thru the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thru the night that our flag was still there.
Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

Moscow's Graveyard

Reading the recent TIME article on Afghanistan's pivotal role in the making of 20th and 21st Century history led to a sudden surge in adrenaline and enthusiasm to actually visit the desolated land. It was in Afghanistan that the back of the British Imperialist advance was broken in the Khyber Pass, decades on and the might of Soviet military was forced to retreat with their tails between their legs across the Friendship Bridge at the Oxus River, now the Americans are in Afghanistan and what will become of them?

Isn't it queer that history and the faith of civilizations are not made in the metropolis of towering sky scrapers but in the desolated backwardness of wastelands like Afghanistan where life still largely follows customs, chivalries and rites of old? A certain Afghan named Azim told the reporter, " (In Afghanistan) If you plant something good, like grapes, you get the sweetest grapes in the world. But if you plant something bad, as many have you will the worst kind of evil growing in Afghanistan. And it will spread." oddly familiar? the high costs of the war and the failure of the Soviets to defeat the less sophisticated mujaheddin led to the eventual break up of the Soviet Union and the birth of global Islamic militancy.

i would love to be a bounty hunter on the Afghan-Pakistan border looking for Osama Bin Laden, imagine what an interesting life that would be like.

of misses and dreams

and we find out that we miss those days when we were under great stress studying for A levels, then it was easy to find a shoulder you could lean on; a helping hand to reach out to; when i fucking flunk maths prelims no one ever told me you're doomed it was always 'its damn easy you'll definitely be able to do it' - but is it really different now? throughout bmt and sispec they were there too. but what happened in sispec was very much an internal affair and i'm just sorry for letting em down but i knew it was the right thing to do in the long run. friends might depart for foreign lands but when we meet again it often seems that time has made us a little more jaded & weary but done little to erode the bonds between friends.

when we talk about studying for a levels, you'll always be part of the conversation. cab rides home after late nights in school, how we should study "proper", woodlands library in winter gear during promos... for everyone else you guys are close and we meet often.it would have been really impossible to get through the whole ordeal without everyone of you all. i realize when the day comes for me to pack my bags to chase my dreams the toughest part will be leaving you guys, all the close friends i've made in JC. but of course there's quite a long way to go till then and even then there'll be those who'll be going with me.

The Republic Is Dead. Long Live the Republic.

was reading last year's post again and i realize how little my beliefs have changed despite my enlistment. i realize my study of European history in JC has really had an immense impact on my political stance. On the eve of every Singapore national day i find myself reading AJP Taylor's Course of German History, marvelling at the spectacle of Bismarck's forced unification of the KleinerDeustchland and relentlessly drawing comparisons between this here shithole and Imperial Germany.if i was born in Prussia in the 1800s i would be Junker, if i was born in Germany in the 20s i would surely be a Nazi, born into Singapore during the 1980s my only cause is disillusionment. actually i shouldn't even be bothered with national day at all, my second last national day ever. 1 more to go.

most used word of the day : miss

don't we all miss the good old days we had back in junior college? somehow these memories are the best i've had in my whole life. but no matter what happens the clock ain't gonna move back wards, we'll never be 17 or 18 anymore, we'll never have those days we had - so we cling on to memories and say " i miss.... "

Fever, Tonsilitis and Lonely Planet

so while everyone is out on saturday doing the fun stuff. i sit at home running a temperature, having trouble swallowing while i surf lonely planet for exotic holiday destinations. so there's Casablanca, Dubai, Prague and counting... the world's so huge why am i stuck here???

i want to walk through the ancient streets of Casablanca speaking to the locals in al-arabiyya and al-faransiyya, taking in the sights, smells and sounds of a city immortalized by humprey bogart's World War II era masterpiece.

boring. can't wait till the next match. hopefully i'm fighting fit by then.

on another note, i was just reminded of that look of contempt bestowed upon us by that dude which has been identified as the captain of the team with jurassic park sized forward park. it feels like chinese high all over again what with the fucked up coach that leaves us players hapless. fuck man. at least there's under21s to look forward to.

19

from last year.....

and having thrown away a letter from the Firefly scholarship board, i felt like i was cutting my roots and burning bridges. but its good to know that these are the bridges that you don't ever want to use. for freedom. for big money. for being a somebody instead of a government lackey. and yes, for being a quitter. they say winners don't quit and quitters don't win. well i don't even want to run the Great Singapore Rat Race, let alone win, so might as well quit. and here's 2 fingers to your face. ..|.. ..|..

one year on. nothing has changed. i remain in bondage and serfdom. but with dreams and ideals intact. another year on. and it will remain the same. there's nothing they say or do that will change that. i owe them nothing and i will not stay to be their slaves. if and when i return, i will make them beg. 1 year 2 mths and 30 days to go.

coming to terms with myself

and i realize that the reason for leaving is actually so closely related to family. to say i've not been affected by the whole issue over the past 6+ years is equivalent to saying that the sun rises from the west. it has eaten deep into my bones and become a part of me, a shadow that walks beside me everyday. an aura of desperation, frustration, anger, disgrace and desire.