i usually love galores but essays?!
everything in excess just feels disgusting.

like listening to JS's Officially Missing You which was nice for the first 50 hits; after that, it's just like "hey, they sound weird here" or "oh okay, nice" kind of thing. by the way, please check it out on youtube because for some reason i just couldn't embed it in the post. but well, all the better for me isn't it? trust me, it's really good stuff there - just stop after the 49th time.

the same goes for essays. after 2 and a 1/2 years, 5 semesters, 29 modules, 100+AUs and 1 wisdom tooth gone, enough is enough. i should have the right to stop when i know I CANNOT THINK ANYMORE limit has been reached, right? Right?

i love the adrenaline of writing essays. but when the only adrenaline i get while typing about caryl churchill's top girls is the depressingly uninspired adrenaline, it is really time to take a break.

so, i think i am going to take a break.
and start again tomorrow.



...

i cheat you not, singaporeans will one day get wiped out because we have all melted into one big bowl of perspiration

it has been darned hot. drats.

i cannot even begin about the sheer humidity before i would have to go grab another towel to clean the new pool of sweat that has just gathered above my lips. i feel like if i don't, i might really just drown from the perspiration that has formed over my lips. it is a torture.

i am at home now, sitting in front of a heater which comes in the form of my hp laptop, with a fan that rotates to me every 10 minutes and a non-working air conditioner that is currently emitting very, very warm air.

just kick me unconscious now, seriously.

and i just received an email from yang from beijing telling us how he is cold like crap there. i cannot even blurt out an obscenity, really.

the redeeming factor that singapore has is probably the excuse to push everything to the malfunctioning weather. got gastric pain? it's the weather. leg pain? must be the heat.

drats; it is so hot i don't feel like going to school tomorrow,
and i have a feeling my prof will totally understand.

respite
after months of gruelling tuition giving,
it has finally come to an end.

you know it when exams are round the corner. my eyes get swollen with sags no concealer can cover, face a picture of distress and utter exhaustion and weight loss/gain (it's difficult to say with my yoyo mass when i get stressed).

and it's not even my exams.

i am very happy with this year's batch of tuition students taking exams because i see many of them putting in effort and lots of heart in their work. maybe because most of them are old enough to worry for their possibly bleak future if they don't do well, i don't even need to nag this time round.

other than some of my secondary school kids like ahem, a certain washingtonDC as i would like to name him thereafter.

i guess other than letting them rest and enjoy their well-deserved holiday for awhile, it is time i get some rest given the amount of hours i had worked the past 2 months. it is not just me who would deserve such a time; i have a feeling my essays and assignments deserve it too. i have neglected them for far.too.long.

thank God for such moments when i can tell my mom, on a cool monday night that, yes mommy, i am coming home for dinner - and let's go repair your specs which i stepped on with my mighty elephant leg like 6 months ago after dinner.

i clearly enjoy my respite.
please, essays and assignments, just be good and get done alright.

it's probably...
monday blues extending into wednesday.

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try seeing that in your brain every time you attend a class.

inglouriously irksome.
i did not just watch Inglourious Basterds.
i did not just watch Inglourious Basterds.
i did not just watch Inglourious Basterds.
i did not just watch Inglourious Basterds.
i did not just watch Inglourious Basterds.
i did not just watch Inglourious Basterds.
i did not just watch Inglourious Basterds.
i did not just watch Inglourious Basterds.
i did not just watch Inglourious Basterds.
i did not just watch Inglourious Basterds.
i did not just watch Inglourious Basterds.

too bad repeating it 10 times has no effects on me. i did watch it and am horrified that the cinema ratings is only M18. i am 21 and i think my lungs suffered a seizure and contracted. nevermind the bad spelling (yes, and i haven't even touched on that), how can brad pitt (or for the record, uma thuman from Kill Bill fame) get themselves involved in such senseless gore?

even though i watched it because i thought brad was cute inside, what is cute when you have cut-up scalps, flying organs, blown up eye and seriously (?), mashed brains and erm, testicles resounding behind your mere desire to look at pitt-boy.

the only cute thing is probably my 10 chewed-up fingertips.

nobody should ever watch it. it should be like R112 and the sole reason why the 113 year-old centenarian would want to watch it is because he/she is sick of living (and he/she wouldn't be able to go to heaven because watching Inglourious Basterds is like committing suicide).

what am i talking about,
just do yourself a big favour and don't watch it man.