Saturday, July 08, 2006.

Everytime I look at this empty space I never really know how to pen or rather, type down what and how I really feel and what is it that I really hope to express through a post.

I think blogging has lost its flavour, and it has defeated the purpose if everyone blogs about seemingly trivial everyday and mundane stuff. There has never really been a blog around that I've gone to and that makes me want to carry on with whatever the person has posted all the time I come online (which is very often, and I'm guilty of that).

Maybe it's because I can never get myself to accept the way some people blog. There are times when I'd read a blog and feel pathetic about myself because of all the good old fun things and friends that others have and I don't. Well, the reason why I don't like reading blogs is because it hurts to see and read about how much fun others are having when you're sulking and wallowing in self-pity about your restraints and concerns and troubles.

OH WELL.

I feel pathetic and superficial everytime I know I'm not sincere when it comes to blogging and writing things which are artificially dumb and enough just to smooth that skin-deep comfort that I need smoothing with. Telling myself that I'd be happy and well and alright very soon doesn't work most of the time. And the pathetic exclamation marks (!) after every seemingly keen sentence. I wonder how keen I am sometimes.

It was last Sunday when I went for Sunday School that I kept really quiet, and at night on MSN, a friend asked if everything was well because I wasn't acting my usual self. What is my usual self? It might be normal for me to be yakking and whining and complaining and proclaiming about my toilet callings, but, there are times when you feel this inner frustration that you'd really rather keep things to yourself.

[I've taken this part away.]

There are times I feel utterly pathetic, like that fateful day when my parents came home and saw me in front of the television, watching American Idol.

I only sat down in front of the television for a mere 5 minutes for a little break, and had only heard one guy sing, and had to be reprimanded for not being studious and not studying like my ever-studious and serious brother. She really succeeded in pissing me off, and I felt so ruddily maligned that I almost teared in front of her. I don't see the big deal in watching 5 minutes of television, especially when people in school talk about this show and that that I never know anything about because I wasn't allowed to turn on the television at night.

They'd prohibit us to watching shows that they enjoy watching. Otherwise, it's a no. It only becomes a temporal yes when holidays zoom in and out in a flash.

Talking about that, my parents say that I don't have a lot of self-discipline. They always tend to compare my little sister and I to my brother.

If they had any other son I think they'd think that we are actually pretty good children. Sure, we have our rebellious ways and horrible sides. I don't think I go out a lot, and I've never gone out on a saturday with friends before. NEVER. People talk about outings and gatherings as if they always have been a part of their lives.

I'd be immensely relieved and happy if I receive a nod from them. Everytime I ask if I could go out, they'd ask. "Guy or girl?" "From Crescent or JJ?" I know it's for my own good, but sometimes I wish I would have that little bit more freedom.

There was once I went out for dinner (the 3rd time in my life) with people outside of my family. It was a dinner at Adam Centre, and then an ice-cream visit to Island Creamery. I enjoyed myself with the people (most of) whom I've grown up with in church. The thing I can't comprehend is that the moment my dad came to pick me up the first thing he asked was, "Why so late?"

Why so late? Why so late? Why do you ask me that? Why don't you ask the rest of them who talked and talked the night away and them who didn't not have such worriers for parents? It is in parents' nature to worry, but I don't see it as any fault of mine for making the entire outing turn out so late.

I didn't feel at ease when the clock ticked nine, not even when it ticked half past eight. The only comfort I had was that I was with the people whom I have grown up with, people whom my parents know personally and have seen them grow. It's just annoying that for everyone else a night out like this seems normal but my parents can't seem to comprehend that we do need such gatherings once in a while.

I love my parents a lot, really, but they tend to keep too a tight reign on certain things which I think are perfectly fine. I won't make a trip down to Jurong Point which is 10 minutes of walking distance from my house for something I need to get without asking my father's permission first. Even back then in my old house whenever I wanted to go downstairs to do my work in the function room, I'd have to seek for permission if not I'd be plagued by guilt for not returning home earlier.

Gosh I've talked and whined and digressed far too much that the scrollbar's really really small. Having deleted what I previously typed this morning, I'd reinstate my point on educators who are unfeeling and insensitive.

First things first. If you are unable to respect your students, you don't expect them to give you the respect you want. And you won't be given the respect you ought to have, for sure, after the horrible words you've said.

How would you feel if it was you who was sitting in his shoes and getting picked on like that just because you weren't taking down notes but listening to what the teacher has to say? Shouldn't you be proud of students who bother to listen and absorb and then bother to copy notes from another friend. Knowing him, that is what he is likely to do. But no, you shot off at him and made your sarcasm ascend to a higher level until you are almost capable of reaching the epitome of being a sarcasm-spewing machine.

Since there isn't one in the market now, you could be the first to produce it you know?

If that's what a teacher and an educator can be like, I worry for students who have to be put through the torture of future generations of teachers who end up using sarcasm as a way of gaining control and good behaviour over students. You make students fear you instead of showing reverence to you. Who's going to defy your orders in the way you deem as defying orders when they know they're going to be lectured in front of a whole lecture theatre of fellow students?

You're at the zenith and I look forward to the day you descend to the nadir.

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