I

I guess part of becoming the best is accepting that you start off weak

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stfu

there happens to be a disproportionately large number of whiny ex single sex school students who cannot seem to stop expressing their yearning for their beautiful secondary school days… that’s all already in the past??? Like ya I know single sex schools were damn fun and stuff because u got no opposite sex people to judge u so u let loose but then again how many times u wan post about crescent/sji/mgs cb we understand it was fun but come on man AC is alr really good with a great school culture u just happen to keep overexaggerating the unfortunate experiences you encounter in school and leave out the good ones because of how caught up u are in trying to prove that your sec school was da bomb like you get one or two bad teachers and u go and say teachers in AC are shit ya fk u dude sometimes just because they make u upset or screw up ur plans or even make u cry doesnt automatically make them shit teachers ya they make u upset but dont hold it against them dude… u hold a grudge as if u got some ancient hatred like get a fking grip of urself u sassy bitches. This sounds damn cliche but ya what if your future bosses are like this?? U just gon sit down and whine about how good ur previous bosses were to you??? Straighten urself the fk up and suck it up annoying bitches just because your sec sch was good doesnt make other schools shit. U only can survive in best schools??? Throw u in a neighbourhood school and u’ll rot there ah??

And another thing is u guys also keep babying each other it’s fake and fking ridiculous it’s not wrong but it’s so excessive and trendy to baby each other that it’s become like

-complain abt sth in sch

-baby each other “it’s okay honey stay strong babe we got this” 

-expect things to happen

It feels good the first few times la because u know that ur friends are there for u but it’s only gonna encourage a whining culture dude wtf it gon do for u when ur only incessantly whining and whining and whining 

Addiction

It’s been 6 months since I first picked up the school’s floorball stick to play.

I remember how before everything started, I wanted to get into badminton so badly. Ever since kindergarten, I had become so passionate for badminton, but I never got the chance to play for a school. After so long, I thought I finally had the opportunity coming into AC. I was pretty confident. But I was also pretty wrong. I got rejected at the trials. I rushed to their training on a friday evening, panting while pleading the coach to let me in given my past training with a qualified coach. He nastily told me the team had no space to train any worse players, but he said he’d consider, with the condition that he won’t be focusing on me during training.

I was disappointed, so I trudged home with my hopes kinda shattered.

The same night, the ex-floorball vice captain Nicholas texted me, asking me if I was still interested in joining floorball because I missed the first day of the try-outs(I never planned to go anyways my friend forced me to sign up for it). At the end of the text from Nicholas that was full of contracted words and short forms, he added a smiley face. He invited me to go for the training the very next day on a saturday morning.

I was still pretty upset about badminton then, but since I didn’t have any other CCA I was planning to join, I decided to go for the floorball training the next day. 

It was pretty early in the morning, however I was quite excited to get into a new sport. I went in shy and quiet, with no one whom I recognized there. The training started off on a warm and friendly note as the J2s were surprisingly welcoming. I still remember when I first picked up the heavy training stick – it felt so uncomfortable and awkward to hold. Since I missed the first training, a J2, Shannon, had to teach me all the basics from a scratch while the other J1s were already nimbly dribbling back and forth. 

I had so much trouble getting my motion for passing and shooting right, and it was quite hard catching up with the rest initially. I felt like I had a lot of trouble moving with the pace of the drills. I slowly got the hang of it, and the sport actually started to feel pretty fun, feeling the ball on the blade of your stick and all. The main highlight of the training was that the J2s made you feel so welcome, it was like you were already part of the floorball family.

That was the main reason why I, and a lot of other current floorballers, were enticed to join the CCA. It was the warm spirit and welcoming voices that I experienced in floorball, and not once in badminton. I was in an actual team sport.

From that first day onwards we just kept improving. From the J1-only training on Founders’ Day, to the various friendlies we had with other JCs(21-0 river valley), to floorball camp during the March holidays and all. 

Then there was our memorable A div experience where we trained and improved at a crazy pace, where we humiliated HCJC 4-0 in the group stages in front of their very own huge group of supporters, and lost to MJC 0-8 in the semi-finals in front of our own supporters. In such a small period of time, there came the end of our journey with the J2s, on the day of our very last A div match which we lost 1-4 to VJC in the 3rd/4th placing to end off an incredibly emotional season of victory and loss. 

That was the peak of our improvement. With such limited time and space to train after A div, it has been hard finding the opportunity to improve myself. However from the end of A div to now, it has been amazingly eventful as well, from being nominated captain of the team, to organizing our own friendlies with other schools, and trying out for trials for floorball clubs. 

Last saturday, the current best player on the team, Jordan, invited me and two other top players to go and try out for the trials for Blacks, a Singapore Floorball League team who has teams competing in Divisions 2 and 5(Div 1 is the top and 5 is the bottom). We somehow established that the four of us were the top players of the team as well as the most passionate, and so Jordan decided to invite us to try out for a floorball club(which he had been training with for some time) and improve ourselves.

Initially, I was quite scared and reluctant to go for it. Because I felt extremely intimidated by the fact that I would be competing against the stronger players in the country for a spot in Blacks, given that the ex-AC Floorball captain from 2 years ago, Ivan, was training with the club in division 2.

The other two backed out, but I felt the obligation and thrill to try out for it for a new experience, even though I was extremely scared I would be considered subpar. So I decided to go for it Jordan. When I arrived, I saw various kinds of floorballers, from university students to middle aged working class men to Swedish players; they were all older than me, other than a few RJ floorballers who were clearly strong players(raffles were champs for A div). It was extremely frightening before it even started.

But it was quite surprising because as the trials went on, we found out that we were on par with majority of the players there. It ended off on a really good note with me getting to exchange numbers with the RJ vice capts and making friends. Ivan remarked at our surprising improvement from when he last saw us train a few months ago, and it was so pleasing to hear. Seriously looking forward to next week’s training.

With so much that has happened in such a short span of a few months, it’s quite amazing to see so much improvement in myself, as well as such a passion for floorball, a sport which I never once considered joining 6 months back. From being uncomfortable with simple passing then, to being able to play with RJ floorballers who have played since sec 1 now is incredible. I still feel so hungry to improve, and eager to know what will become of my team and I for A div next year. 

For these entire 6 months, not once have I regretted not joining badminton, and not once have I looked back after joining floorball. It has been nothing short of joy with this new sport that I have come to love so much, accompanied with the team’s warmth and acceptance which I can so readily embrace every training.

It’s a wonderful feeling, to know that there’s so much potential in you ready to boom, and this feeling is one that I have never felt with badminton which I have long left behind. Floorball has changed me so much. The game has sucked me in and has become my addiction, and I can confidently say that it will continue to be my source of joy for years to come.

When it all stops

I’ve always wondered what would happen to us when we die

It bothers me that whatever that I’m feeling now won’t be what I’ll be feeling when I face… death. It’s the loss of ability to sense and interact with tangible things that distinguishes between being alive and being dead, which is one thing for sure.

However what would happen to… Our thoughts? Our emotions? And all the memories we preserved in our minds while we were alive? Do they just disappear, for they are impalpable?

Do people who die just stop… feeling? 

In a Starcraft book I read(and thoroughly enjoyed reading), the preserver who faced death in battle had her spirit bottled in a crystal, where she was still able to communicate with the living in death.

But in this world we lack this isthmus; a receptable that stores these notions and after death, communicates feelings to the living world.

So it’s like thoughts and feelings and memories that once existed will cease to exist and never exist again.

I’ve always had a tendency to store pretty instances of life in my phone and look back to them later, snickering at joyful times or smiling at emotional messages immortalized in my gallery. 

When I view them time and time again, it’s that affectionate emotional connection that triggers within your heart which completes these experiences, fulfilling them with human sentiment and reminiscence.

Because I feel with the absence of human sentiment and relation, these instances are just experiences immortalized but with zero value because no one else will ever be able to appreciate these moments again.

It’s a pitiful thought, coming to realise that golden moments in life will be lost from the realm with one’s passing.

We have to treasure the appreciable instances in our lives we choose to immortalize, be it in our minds or in our phone galleries, and shower them with an abundance of love and delight, for there is a time that will come; when we face death; the stoppage of feelings, the dissipitation of memories and experiences, and the fading of sentiment, where these instances will simply be lost to the continuity of the world.

We love and keep loving, because that helps us live through all these precious moments with passion and emotion.

The day we start dying is the day we stop feeling.

thank you for helping me understand this

breathless

When you know you’re doing things wrong, all it takes is for someone to point it out for you to really start to realize it and it makes you feel the worst.

I’m not doing things right.

I was never a people person. Or at least when I seemed to be, it was probably just a false front. I don’t always say the right things the right way, and sometimes I’m at a loss of what to say at all.

I really don’t know what to do now. I feel like I’m facing the same crisis in secondary school where I just waste a lot of time trying to rediscover and reinvent myself. It’s when you start to feel uncomfortable around your social circle that you feel left out, and unloved, and alone. I feel like I’m dying in studies and in its relentless pressure. I have no strength, and no desire to find strength.

I feel burnt out and useless.

And all alone.

I want to cry.

 

Fantasia

In Mrs Warren’s Profession, we study realism and the concept of idealism. The play doesn’t exactly have a great ending. In the second act, it pleasantly describes a scene of the loving reconciliation of a mother and daughter. In the next few acts, they destroy this relationship with secrets revealed and habits unveiled, and everything comes crashing down. The lit worksheet defines realism as attempts to present everyday things naturally or to render accurately the world around, however unpleasant, without romanticizing or stylizing them, and that it is not concerned with the supernatural or the ideal.

We all wish things in our lives were ideal, or at least close to it. I wish it, but realism exists with all its sinful explicitness and unhappiness. I want to cuddle in fantasy’s arms and rid myself of all that is true and happening. Realism exists. And I really can’t stand it sometimes.

I really don’t want to believe that studies matter. I really don’t want to believe that I’m growing up. I really don’t want to believe in all the distasteful qualities that people have and conceal with an exuberant front. I’d like to think that things always go my way. But realism hurts like an spear impaled on a breathing heart, consciously having the things you believe seem beautiful being broken down into their most simple and ugly pieces.

But I do want to fight against it. I want to battle against realism with a burning spirit that tells me to fight to make all of the beauty and wonderment I fantasize of come true. I want to wake up and be alive in this world. Then I can fight for my ideal and crush bitter realism for the manifestation of my utopia, embracing the positive vibes, friendships, and love that come along with it, and then carefully guide myself through an exhaustive quest for precious happiness.

“Don’t ask what the world needs, ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

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shulin wrote me a card

It’s so late

back at it again… with the routinely after-homework hour.

It’s 3.13am, I just finished doing my physics homework. I took like 7 hours for homework that could have been done in 3 hours. At least I finished it(almost).

Anyways, I was scrolling through instagram again on my phone, looking at posts of beautiful pictures and posts of beautiful people. And then I saw this really special picture with an amazing caption about this girl preparing for her upcoming Adiv tennis matches which really made my day(it’s kind of awkward saying something made your day when it’s 3 and you’re gonna sleep soon but that’s besides the point), and I’m sure it has moved several other people as well.

“Somewhere behind the athlete you’ve become and the hours of practice and the coaches who have pushed you, is a little girl who fell in love with the game and never looked back. Play for her,” the caption reads.

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she’s really pretty too

I trust that I honestly felt a compelling sense of passion, manifested into such a simple instagram picture, and really, it brought so much warmth to my heart. While we are so caught up in doing things, let’s always remind ourselves why we started doing them in the first place. Let’s look back to the roots of our ambitions, rekindle that passion in its initial, most untainted form, and translate it into undying vigour. Not to succeed, but to live life with fervour and gusto.

I read this book about a critique on the invention of time, and to quote,

“There was always a quest for more minutes, more hours, faster progress to accomplish more in each day. The simple joy of living between sunrises was gone.

Everything man does today to be efficient, to fill the hour? It does not satisfy. It only makes him hungry to do more. Man wants to own his existence. But no one owns time.

There’s a reason God limits our days. To make each one precious.”

Maybe, even if just for a moment, we took the competitive element out of sports, out of studies, heck, out of life, we would become happy.  And if we stopped time at that very precious moment, we may just be able to really relish the feeling of genuine fulfillment of being alive, and bathe in the purity and the innocence of existence.

 

 

Inspired

This is Vig and Kumar, #33 and #34, twins, skilled floorballers, humble and disciplined, natural leaders, and only 20 years old.

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the two donning Singapore’s jersey

It’s hard to come by such awe-inspiring people, motivated and passionate. These are people of true stature. Artlessly, they emanate an aura that moves those around them. At such a young age, they have come to master the game, having played alongside the best floorballers in Singapore for the Floorball SEA games 2015, a huge stage that flaunts profession and talent of the people we can only wish to emulate. Even so, they remain humble and down-to-earth. They do not have the ‘elitist’ mindset; they do not exclude or forget those who have played alongside them, nor do they neglect their Alma mater and juniors. They constantly interact with those younger and more inexperienced than them, advising them on how to improve themselves while being warm, friendly, and amiable confidants, having remarkable social astuteness that extends far beyond their tender age.

This is the finest form of leadership, and it truly is an honour to be associated with them. Modest, talented, and born leaders, they are a stunning reflection of near-perfection.

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you only have to talk to either of them once to know it

 

cringe

You know those days when you finish your work and just browse about social media, unwilling to pack your stuff for school tomorrow because of your disgusting habit of procrastination? suddenly, while you are stalking your crush, your eyecandy, someone you hate, someone you envy, you see something, some post or some picture of some sort, and it triggers you. so you just sit in a daze, thinking about your own flaws and insecurities, and by the time you’ve come to your senses it’s already 1.34am in the morning.

yeah that just happened to me so I happened to get some motivation to start writing and keep this thing active.

anyways there’s this mental tumour that has been bugging me. I have been wanting to write it out for the past week or so but I’ve been really tired and mentally blocked. Sometimes you just feel useless. I’m sure everyone has felt it; that lowest point in your day, or in your week, where you feel completely unable to do things others are doing, or you feel ugly, or you feel incomplete, or demoralized, or not good enough for someone you want to develop your friendship with. Basically you just start to feel suckish. 

You scroll through social media, the lame excuse of a platform to socialize, seeing pictures of your friends accomplishing things, taking nice pictures, having fruitful times, meeting up with friends and joyous occasions, yea such beautiful pictures… then you take a look at yourself and feel like an anti-social introverted couch potato. You click on profiles of other people you don’t know, staring at their amusing dps, wondering who in the world helps them take such captivating pictures, they have bios that speak of their devout faith to christianity, praising god, flaunting their academic transitions to top JCs… then you look at your own and you feel unaccomplished as shit.

I haven’t felt so pessimistic and shitty in a long time, the last time was probably before Os with davina. I guess the shittiness all comes about with infatuations and love and stuff, which I also guess is what helps me write and complain so much. I really hate it when I devote my writing to complain about stuff like this, but then again it’s pretty much the only thing that helps me write more in depth than usual.

Meh