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  • Argh dammit I wish I would stop screwing things up.

    What is obvious afterward never seems to materialise.
    Again the song replays

    What you want is not what I can give, what I can give is not what you want.
    It is not right for me to be hurtful, or to cause harm to others.

    But if I do so simply by being who I am, what am I to do?

    Is it better to lie and constantly deny myself to satisfy the absurd expectations of someone else, just because I don't want to hurt them?

    Life is just so difficult.
    So I tried to meditate in my own way tonight. It consisted of reading the passage then trying to feel the essence of it. Not quite the idea of turning the ideas over in my mind as I've read on Christian meditation sites. Not the mechanical recitation of mantras like in Eastern meditation or the focusing on a spot between my eyes either. Doing the latter is so tempting. It seems so easy, certainly easier than trying to generate an indescribable complex feeling. But I feel that Christian meditation is possibly more of a challenge and so potentially more rewarding.

    Well. I still don't know what to do about my predicament, but that's alright. I have peace.
    Ah! The return of my shoutbox after days of enforced quietude.

    Psalm 32 is a very calming psalm (calm psalm, I like the rhyme). Why did I never come across it in my sojourn across the Bible before? Missing the trees for the forest is as lamentable as the converse (I'm sure there's a better word than lamentable which connotes the sense of waste but I can't for the life of me remember what it is).

    Why is the Bible uncool? I think it is, I cannot deny it. But I wish I didn't. It is so much atool of oppression, of condemnation of others, of judgmentalism, that I can't associate it with coolness. I wish I could because it is actually a great book (especially books like Psalms) and I'm sure some atheists will agree.

    I love reading in Esperanto too. I think it's great for meditation. It actually forces me to think about the meaning of the words, especially after I read the English and realise it's not quite the same. Reading it in Hebrew must be an amazing experience.
    I'm afraid to write stuff here. Darn it.

    I wish there was someone to whom I could confide. Haiz.
    Yay! Bachelor's degree no. 3!

    FWIW :D

    Although with a not very glam class of honours, it's an achievement nonetheless.
    I have a theory.

    Hot girls get pickier as they get older because the reason why they're not married yet is that they know there'll always be someone out there willing to chase them.

    Girls who are not hot get less picky because their singlehood isn't exactly by choice.

    Same applies to guys.

    Kruela mondo.
    There is only one thing I know: to wit, that I don't know anything.

    Legoland trip counts as a holiday. But what, really, am I doing?
    Thanks to my penchant for doing things at the last minute, I am not going on a holiday this week.

    Stupid PadFone will take 5 working days to repair, they will not offer me a temporary spare phone, and there's only one darn service centre islandwide, located in an industrial estate.

    I am writing a complaint to Asus notwithstanding that the customer service officer was reasonably professional; otherwise, this is the last phone I'm buying from them.

    In other news, I am terribly confused currently and I do not know what I am doing and what to do.
    The fucking padfone is borked.

    I'll try Asus' solution of charging for 20 min (although it is practically full batt) otherwise, screw.

    The service centre is NOT open on Sundays believe it or no. At least Samsung's ones are open.
    I just had a long chat with the ex about my plans for the railway.

    I don't know, who else is there in the world who can understand me reasonably and/or put up with my long chats about my ever seemingly out of reach grand plans?
    There's even a Bluetooth thumb drive! 3 variations on a theme, ALL DONE.

    Damn the MNCs, what's there left for me to do?
    I'm not sure what C's motivations are though. Is he an ENTJ or an ESTJ? Hard to tell really.
    Thing is, nobody cared. Except C. I knew C would pounce. C is opposed to every technical thing that I do, every proposal or amendment, even the non-technical, really. C's way is always the best and we must always stick to the tried and true. Progress be damned. C had already considered things a long time ago and if he didn't want to do it then there's no reason why people should be doing it now.

    I'm still worried that the failure yesterday would have repercussions in the future if I propose the system for higher level internal votes. But: coulda been worse!

    Did regret not talking much to LL, GG, et al, though. As for LN, she doesn't give a shit about my computer programs of course.

    Now then. Pasinta. Antauxen!
    So well, I decided to get this off my chest here as well even though I've already talked to a few people. And I suppose after anonymising the details nobody will be able to make head or tail of what it's about although the proceedings were supposed to be confidential (but really who gives a shit).

    So, I was actually anticipating, in the deep recesses of my heart, that the voting program would fail one day. It would fail in a public way, naturally, and everybody would witness it. My reputation as a programmer would go to smithereens.

    And the worst did happen.
    Yesterday I had sudden inspiration for a song after polishing off half a bottle of wine. The chorus started with "bela, bela, bela...".

    Now I remember neither the tune nor the rest of the words. Actually I'm more amused than anything.
    Malfacileco dormi...

    I swear, tomorrow I am gonna go look for those dratted melatonin pills.
    I vow that post the passage of this amendment, I shall not propose any more amendments to the TOR in the next 5 years.
    Dio montru al mi la vojon...
    Via vorto estas lampo sur mia piedo kaj lumo sur mia vojo...
    Democracy, even representative democracy, can be pretty pesky sometimes.

    C'est la vie.
    I'm the worst student in the bar exam class and I'm doing SMU a great disservice.

    The solution is to buck up. Haiz.
    We live in a country where everyone wants to be part of the elite. I am no exception. As things are, this country is no exception as far as the rest of the world is concerned either.

    But having no legitimate claim to elite status, having come from the wrong schools, working in the wrong firms, speaking the wrong languages, I style myself as the anti-elite. I am elite in my ordinariness, the quintessential private citizen of this land, the most representative of the poor and downtrodden.

    Yet it is rubbish, for poor and downtrodden though I may be, I cannot lay claim to be representative of the diverse masses of poor and downtrodden people.

    It is said that the middle class are the most ambitious. Am I middle class? No, I don't think so. I am working class. But the working class too harbours ambitions of joining the ranks of the elite, much as its members publicly despise the elitist system.

    My previous post will be laughed at by your average elitist. SMU, the unranked school, elite?
    It is 25 days to the release of my OBU accounting degree results.

    I am immensely afraid that I will fail yet again.

    It would be such a disgrace to SMU Law School, that supposedly kinda elite place which needs 3 As for entry. Besides a disgrace to SMU at large that someone who got two degrees cum laude from there cannot pass a part time degree. Stupid though that may sound, I can't deny that it matters to me emotionally.

    Ah well. In God's hands. He has chosen the foolish things to confound the wise.
    Who would want an uncle like me who sings Hokkien songs while doing ironing?

    Shoot, I made an introit post without realising it was an introit thread.

    Last one. I can't possibly post in all introits and it's unfair to post in only some.
    So. I fixed a problem in Lawnet Downloader.

    I feel a great sense of achievement.

    But this is tempered by the knowledge that it is likely that few others will see it as quite such an achievement.

    I am, after all, a faceless developer, unseen, unknown.

    Altruism is great, but we secretly crave fame.
    I'm wondering if I can send the Esperanto song to that girl.

    It seems such a waste now that I've essentially decided to give up (again), but the last time I decided it was a waste not to give that bouquet of flowers, things ended really badly.

    Shoot, man, I know I gotta be less desperate but I'm not getting younger.

    But then she doesn't understand Esperanto anyway.
    I wanted to create a thread on this and then thought it might offend others so this goes here.

    I have no idea why INTPs from their late teens to early twenties seem entirely lost as to what to do with life.

    That never happened to me, and I believe the reason why they are that way is that they've led an uncommonly rarefied and privileged existence.

    After one sees a number of injustices in the world surely one cannot help but have a burning desire to fix that shit. That is an immediate answer to what one should do with one's life.

    End ESTJ-esque pomposity.
    I think the common sense solution to my dating nadir is to hit the clubs.

    1. Online dating isn't working.
    2. I don't have any group hobbies.
    3. The girls at the Bar exam course are all way too young.

    Haiz. More expense. And low probability of reward. Is there a better way?

    All of a sudden I wish I had taken chemistry. It is really fascinating.

    But I would've hated it if I had learnt it in school.
    Strangely enough, for the first time in a long time, I feel I miss Facebook.

    But nope, no turning back, no turning back.
    A song suddenly comes to mind, an oldie, no less:

    You were my sweetheart,
    I was your baby,
    how could you say goodbye?
    Happy happy birthday baby...

    It was the girl who sang it.
    I'm sitting in an air con room and all of a sudden all I can think of is that I want a cigarette.

    Damn that stupid pack of Viceroy Ice I smoked last week.
    It's very hard to keep living, to feel joy, even after church or whatever when I pray desperately that God will give me hope.

    Why have I not committed suicide? Let me be honest. I fear death.

    And I fear the day when I lose that fear.
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