Let me help you fly, ’cause you won’t have time, To cover your eyes or get your disguise, They won’t ask you why, they’ll just watch you die, And it’s still so hard to be who you are, So you play this part and the show goes on, But you’ve come this far with a broken heart
You’ve come this far and you’re broken.
Ok, so this song is somewhat good.It’s time to question myself. Am I managing my time well? Somehow, I’m beginning to realise that life isn’t eternal. It flows in this c chronological manner until we find ourselves lying face-up in a wooden box. In terms of acadamics, I find myself able to cope, though studying before a test has become a given. The fruits that I reap seem to somehow sastify me to a small extent; every A1 is like a flicker of an orgasm coarsing through the body. Remember what I said in one of the previous posts? A borderline pass equates to failure, and a low A1 should be considered as the bare minimum. Of course, low A1s won’t be enough. They never will. Striving for distinctions has become part and parcel of this rat race termed “Life”. We’re all like these little avatars running around killing creeps and racking up gold, while leveling up to master spells which enable us to own in tests. God is like the IceFrog, not that I fully believe in the existence of a god. I’ve been somewhat skeptical for a while now. Who is this god? He is rumoured to be omnipotent, and has the capability to fry our national intelligence systems with a zap of a finger. This leads us to a particular paradox that I’m particularly fond of.
Can God create an object so heavy that even he can’t lift it?I wouldn’t say that I’m a hot- blooded atheist yet. I still attend church on a weekly basis; the difference is that I don’t lap up every word the preacher spits out any more. He speaks of God from a book that has extended its reach to every nation on this planet, and has been proven to outsell even Harry Potter and the Pussy Willows. It is a tome that I have taken little notice of lately, seeing the busy schedule I have landed myself into. I haven’t really morphed into much of a secret mugger, and I doubt that even “open mugger” can begin to describe me. I’m stuck in between here and there. Wherever I turn, I see nothing but the desolate fog smothering me. There is nary a source of hope, a beacon of light that eggs me on, and I can’t help but wonder.. where this path will take me.
I’ve already gotten my life’s route plotted out, that I have. First up will be admission into a junior college. Possible choices are Raffles, Victoria and Temasek. Yes, you didn’t see wrong, that is Raffles there. The reason for this being so is that I’m determined to enter an Arts stream. The masses hold the Science stream in high esteem, but there will always be a deviant here and there that will reject this stereotyped point of view. Of course, t there are many that succumb to cognitive difference, but we are like the stalwart desperadoes that seek greener pastures.From here on, it’s either NUS or SMU. I’ve used abbreviations since I have no intention of spelling them out for your benefit. Yes, it’s a cruel world out there, better get used to it at an earlier juncture than cry over split milk later. I suppose NUS would be the better option, though it’s far. It’s located in Bukit Timah, in fact. SMU would be more convenient for me to commute to, but I’m not buying since it’s supposedly ranked lower than NUS in the tables. Now all that remains is the course I’ll be undertaking. I was enlightened in the course of playing Phoenix Wright last year, so it’ll be law. According to the information I got from the NUS website, it seems that I’ll have to choose a specialised field of law. The freedom of choice doesn’t daunt me, though, because the obvious answer is criminology. Why? I’ve always been intrigued by these extremists, by how their minds tick, and studying them should prove no end of fun and games.
I’ll continue another day when I’ve got more time. For now, this is all.