The reader accepts, on reading of this disclaimer, that the Internet is a vast wasteland of crap that spews out of human minds. This blog is no different. Any assumptions or conclusions that the reader draws from this blog are not the responsibility of the author, along with any physical or psychological harm that might result from the reading of this blog.
Author
The author is a paranoid, deranged and cynical misanthrope who records snippets of her life so that she will remember them when she grows old and withered. The identities of any names or initials on this blog are based on the assumptions of the reader unless otherwise specified, and the author claims no responsibility for them.
Reality
The author somehow got into medical school. Yes, you of the general public, shudder and fear the wrath of an inept doctor.
Loves
Reading, Maisy (my dog), tea, writing (albeit badly), piano, music, junk food.
Hates
Almost everything else besides the things mentioned above.
Friends
Bao Cheng' Bernice' Chien Young' Chun Hing' Claire' Faustina' Felicia' Ferly' Gloria' Irene' Irene & Jiaying' Jac' Jiamin' Jiasin' Jiaying' Lutheng' Karene' Marissa' Melesa' Mingyi' My fictionpress' Pamelia' Pei Rong' Qiu Ting' Rachel' Satires Site' Stasia' Sylvia' The Clique' Vinette' Wenjia' Xin Rong' Xue Ying' Yanne & I' Yanne & Jamie' Zeena' 203'
Archives
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Chat area
2nd time blogging.
Really, I don't see the point of Life. What's Life anyway? It's just when you start bawling after coming out of your mother's womb, then start trying to walk, go to school till you are about 20 years old, then work till you are about 65 years old, then die. If that's Life, I don't see the point anymore. I mean, I know that this sounds really cynical, but well... Sometimes, I wonder why people work. But of course, I am just wasting my time thinking about such things, since no one cares. But this is my blog for that matter, and I post what I want, you read what you want, since perceptions make reality.
And about the perfect parent. Is it a fact, or fiction? To me, I think it's fiction. Of course, you would all be cursing and swearing at this cynical assh*le churning out such trash to make you all become suicidal, and your little momsies would come after me with choppers and voodoo dolls. But really, perceptions make reality. I was telling Sars on the bus today. Is there a parent, who never once scolded you, beat you, showed you all the care you wanted as a kid? Then when you grow up into a toddler, was the parent there to hold you when you fall down(literally and metaphorically)? How about when you progress on the meaningless journey and pass the doors of adolescence? Was the parent ever there to consider your feelings and tolerate your mood swings all the time? What about the start of the climb up the steep corporate ladder, when everyone is clambering, and you might lose your balance at times, and fall flat on your face? Was that parent ever there to pick you up?
Most of the times, the answer is no, at least in my case. When I was a toddler and had learnt to walk, I would sit on the balcony ledge all day long waiting for my parents to walk past that green gate to enter the house. When I finally caught sight of them, I would clamber down clumsily and sometimes fall flat on my face. Of course no one knew about this, and I do not remember much too, since I suspect that I did suffer a case of amnesia in the past(I am not kidding).
When I first got "promoted"(or demoted) to Primary School(since it's yet another synonym of Hell), my parents did nothing to help me with my Chinese initially. As a result, I'd flunked every CA in Primary 1. Of course, I had to pick myself up and prove to the world that I could do it, that I could stand up myself. And I did prove myself right in the end, though no one else gave a hoot about it.
So I aced my PSLE, though I didn't do as well as my brother, and missed the EESIS by one mark. For that, I was condemned for my entire life. How miserable life is indeed... And in Secondary School, just entering the age of adolescence, where were my parents? I did not even dare to muster my courage to tell them I had fainted in school. I had to tell them that everything was perfect, that there was nothing wrong in my life, even though I feel so miserable. Where was the perfect parent in times like this? A teardrop away? What hogwash... Even after weeping buckets, the perfect parent would never appear.
Seriously, Atticus should change his name to "Antique-cus", since parents like him are extinct, with asteriods and meteoroids hitting the Earth(metaphorically of course, for those too dense to understand). Well, what a "sian-sation" this post has been.
8:37 PM