The Only Verdict Is Vengeance!

Quite some time back, cinema-goers and film buffs were treated to the delightful purr of Hugo Weaving’s voice, under a Guy Fawkes mask, crooning:

Remember, remember, the fifth TWELFTH of November!

*

Tuesday (03/11): 1300-1345: Chemistry SL (P1: MCQ)
Tuesday (03/11): 1500-1615: Chemistry SL (P2: FRQ)

Wednesday (04/11): 0800-0900: Chemistry SL (P3: Options)

Thursday (05/11): 1300-1430: Math Studies SL (P1: Short)

Friday (06/11): 0800-0930: Math Studies SL (P2: Long)
Friday (06/11): 1300-1400: Economics HL (P1: Essay)
Friday (06/11): 1500-1600: Economics HL (P2: SAQ)

Monday (09/11): 0800-1000: Economics HL (P3: DRQ)
Monday (09/11): 1300-1400: History HL (P1: DBQ)
Monday (09/11): 1500-1630: History HL (P2: Wars + SPS)

Tuesday (10/11): 0800-1030: History HL (P3: China)

Wednesday (11/11): 1300-1500: English HL (P1: Unseen)

Thursday (12/11): 0800-1000: English HL (P2: Novels)

*

My weekend will not be fun. I wonder if my parents are willing to become my coffee/tea/coffee-and-tea slaves for those 3-5 days. I also wonder if the inglorious notion of me, whipping my family into abject slavehood, is another sign that the Moment We Have All Been Waiting For has finally dawned upon us. The two words running through my mind right now are:

International Baccalaureate Insane Bloodlust.

I’ll just leave everything in God’s hands: there’s no better way to do it, I suppose.

yam.

The Sky A Literal Black

It is currently 7.06pm, and it is raining cats and dogs – along with the rest of the zoo. Half an hour ago, I noticed that dinner was ready but not served on the table, so I searched around the house for my maid; when my mother called, she asked where my two brothers were, and I had no idea. As the clouds turned the night from indigo to a literal inky black, I noticed how quiet the house once, until I parted the curtains in my brother’s room and noticed my maid and my two brothers on the edge of the near-flooding balcony, drenched like hell, looking like a trio of crazy people scooping up buckets of water and throwing it out. I imagined myself under an umbrella, walking by the house, looking up to realise with utter incredulity at the screaming occupants of 366 Lorong Chuan.

I spent a moment laughing at the insanity of it all. Then I found a bucket, ran back up to my brother’s room, and there they all were, soaked to the skin. I went, Am I too late? Are you guys done? Derek simply looked at me, smiled and nodded. For a moment they looked like heroes.

Bullets Through The Brain

This is post-Civil/World Wars Daryl Yam speaking. I’m just going to type out what I have to say in short, abrupt sentences, and be done with it. Now able to rattle off essay outlines for popular topics/questions, the narcolepsy is starting to kick in.

Yesterday, I met Kahwei at the school library; we ended up trekking to City Hall to study. I believe a third of our time at City Hall was spent looking at Topman. That was also the day I discovered Topman, and realised that it has been the source of all the clothes I’ve been seeing on people nowadays.

Today, after finishing International Economics, I spent an hour before lunch traveling to and fro City Hall once again. While on public transport, I managed to reach the halfway mark in Moring’s In A Dark Wood. Engrossing stuff. And I went to City Hall for a second time because I — uh — also bought — uh.

The Grey’s Anatomy Season 5 DVDs.

I know, I am an addict.

Also, after IB, I probably need to:

1. fill out my SPH Undergraduate Scholarship application form,
2. go job-hunting down the streets of Orchard,
3. start editing/compiling/working on my annual portfolio (I intend to make this year’s a Christmas gift),
4. go clothes-shopping for long-sleeves with my mother,
5. make out a whole list of songs I have in my iPod,
6. make a second list of all the pretty anime I’ve been watching,
7. pick up cooking skills,
8. become reacquainted with a tenor saxophone,
9. indulge in a little fanfiction/livejournal fun,
10. continue on with the Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms (I have stopped at ‘N’),
11. get cracking on possible business plans

I have a three and a half months. My enlistment’s on the fourth of March, so I need to make my hours count.

During my free times I’ve grown quite obsessed with the idea of savings and cash. It’s probably got to do with the attached financial security, and the knowledge that if you want something, you know you can afford it straightaway. Is this a sign that I’m inching closer to being an adult?

During my free times and self-appointed breaks I’ve also taken to perfecting the art of relaxation. My mother is now worried that I’ve grown too relaxed in the wake of upcoming life-changing examinations. I tell her it’s because she comes home when it’s dinner, and when it’s dinner it’s a luxurious hour of No Studying.

The calendar says four days, but the soul says fourteen.

yam.

Songs From Different Times

Songs From Different Times
by Jack Savoretti

Has it always been hard for you
Are you scared of the truth
Is the wrong way just bright for you
‘Cause I’m losing my mind sitting here watching you cry

Don’t let the music die
We’re playing songs from different times
I’ll let you say goodbye on another day but not today
On another day but not today

I am always the one to give
And you call me a thief
Say I’m stealing your time away
I’m just waiting to see if you’ll wait for me

Don’t let the music die
We’re playing songs from different times
I’ll let you say goodbye on another day but not today
On another day but not today

Don’t let the music die
We’re playing songs from different times
I’ll let you say goodbye on another day but not today
On another day but not today

*

I like the strings, the guitar — but God damn, his voice is beautiful. And of course, it was playing during last week’s Grey’s Anatomy episode, shot in the film noir, Rashomon style. They’ve never done it before, and it was swell.

On another note, I just had my Cambridge interview today. I don’t know what to make of it, except that I walked out feeling happy and excited. There was no ‘test at interview’, just a lot of discussion revolving around my Personal Statement and several TOK-ish questions about the nature of literature and its various forms. I went in at 11.15am, and came out at 11.50am.

The exams are in exactly one week’s time! Was going through my inbox, and saw Ted’s Encouraging Email. It came at the right time. 

yam.

The Capital

Quarter of pleasures where the rich are always waiting,
Waiting expensively for miracles to happen,
Dim-lighted restaurants where lovers eat each other,
Cafe where exiles have established a malicious village:

You with your charm and apparatus have abolished
The strictness of winter and spring’s compulsion,
Far from your lights the outraged punitive father,
The dullness of mere obedience is here apparent.

So with orchestras and glances, soon you betray us
To belief in our infinite powers; and the innocent
Unobservant offender falls in a moment
Victim to his heart’s invisible furies.

In unlighted streets you hide away the appalling;
Factories where lives are made for a temporary use
Like collars or chairs, rooms where the lonely are battered
Slowly like pebbles into fortuitous shapes.

But the sky you illumine, your glow is visible far
Into the dark countryside, enormous and frozen,
Where, hinting at the forbidden like a wicked uncle,
Night after night to the farmer’s children you beckon.

– W. H. Auden

*

Today I sat for my Cambridge Written Test at Hwa Chong Institution. When I reached there, I had a slight headache, because I attempted to read my Extended Essay on 156, but it was soon cleared when I saw the eager crowd of students, some mugging, some reading, mostly chatting. Chong Yong saw me, and we chanced upon Herrick and Jarrel as well. Imagine my surprise when I saw a total of 6 applicants to Cambridge English on the entire list (we are such a minority), and Michael Wee was the person seated right behind me.

We had two questions. The first was ‘A’ Level style: an unseen comparative between the above Auden poem and Wordsworth’s ‘Composed Upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802′. The second was taken from the PPS’s written test, something about Plato’s utopia in Republic, and whether we agreed if philosophers should become its leaders, and poets and other artists should become its outcasts.

I only had 2 hours. It was exhilaratingly fun.

I took the bus back to Junction 8 and I spent my entire day window-shopping, debating over which post-its I should get, purchasing a beautiful box of fruit candy and sitting in the cinema alone having a ball of a time catching Julie & Julia. Meryl Streep is priceless (as usual, but nothing beats her Emmy-winning performance in Angels In America), and Amy Adams is very likable.

Now I has to fill out my SPH application form. It really doesn’t sound as if my examinations are in 9 days’ time. But I’m happy.

yam.