Rough Rhymes

Friday, September 29, 2006

Probably after weeks of disappearance, I is back. For those who know why, you know. Those who don't, need not ponder over it. To those friends who have been buggin' me to blog a bit about my life and not always look for something to get myself into trouble with, here you go, a short glimpse at my life. And sorry if I have not been finding time to catch up on old times. We'll catch up soon.

The student life. The phase of his life which every single man cherishes. I is no exception. Just that mine came with a twist. Not necessarily the worst of it all but definitely one that has made an impact. One that would mean that much more than any other bitter situation. From primary school to secondary school to even my polytechnic days, my parents haf had the greatest headaches on earth.

I is a hopeless poly dropout now. And yea, wipe that sneer outta your face. Stop with the P.H.D (Poly Halfway Dropout) jokes. It's outdated and fails to amuse even my toes. Not that I'm incapable of studying but my principles somehow always seems to controvert the education policies. I have a mother who thinks she is shaping my future. What the hell, she kidding me? I wouldn't even let her choose my clothes and she wants to be shaping my life. She did it her way and oweing to that fact, I is now a drop out. So take it from me. Never let your parents determine your life. You decide it. Yes, mother knows best but only till the kitchen. Mum wants me to become an engineer. Stable job, broad based, good money. Fair enough. But there's far more to me than this. I don't fancy money. I don't wanna be studying metals or plastics when all I use them for is to split open a few heads, grin in satisfaction, sip on more beer and head back home. Stable job? When anything is possible in this all so unpredictable society, I is not contented that engineering is a stable job. Nevermind if it is but do I care? I do not do what I do not wanna do.

I wanted to be doing something that was language based. That's what I do best. Or rather, I feel so. I don't understand the education policy. What's with your O level points got to do with the faculty you wanna be doing? What's with this whole cut out point shit? The inexplicable question here is, the lesser the points, the bigger the fuck you are? Just coz I just about made it, you gimme a place and someone else, who badly wants to be doing a certain faculty, doesn't coz he hasn't got enough? Why not let us do what we wanna be doing? Why not let our passion take over when we all know that we'll give our lives to do something that we really wanna be doing? Why waste a place giving it to someone who doesn't give 2 fucks about his course of study? Why bring our passion to a abrupt hault with all this bullcrap? They have to have a cut out point to screw up my life. Seems more like a "cut you out" point. And when we look towards the private schools to do us a favour, money is always getting into the wrong frame of things.

So in short, I is not bright enough to make it to a course that I want, I don't have the kind of bling to be doing it in private and I am pushed to be doing something which doesn't mean half my balls to me. Fuck no. I do not belong to the 99% category of singapore. I belong to the remaining 1% which starts raising hell for things we see as pointless. You see, in singapore, everything is laid down. You don't sculpt no shit. You go with the flow and bounce like they throw. I gripped my teeth and gave it a shot when I was once offered a job at an engineering sector during my poly semester breaks. Just to have a feel of what it was gonna be like in the near future for me, I decided to give that shit a try. After the first day of my work, picture this:

You get woken up for work and you always fish for excuses just so that you don't need to drag that ass of yours into the bathroom to bathe and change coz you know deep down that the environment smells no better than your armpit unwashed for umpteen days. And eventually when you get to work, your workplace seems no better looking than your neighbour. A place as warm as an incinerator. A fucking dull environment where everywhere you turn, all you see is some dumb technician trying to put together two metal objects which don't even look half as interesting as lego bricks. You wear some safety glasses where you don't look half as good as Edgar Davids and a pair of safety boots which seems as heavy as Pamela Anderson Lee's left tit and you're supposed to travel to work in such wonderful manner. Already I am associated with the word 'Anjadi' and what more can I salvage if I were to be walking around with safety boots? Worst still, at work, you're surrounded by muts who're there just to clean up bits and pieces of thrash and while doing so, they have to move that stinky mouth of theirs to pass the most unhumourous of comments which somehow never fails to amuse a fellow mut, who seems to laugh at even the slightest of things. Their brains so small but their sense of humour so big? Inappropriate I feel. Nevermind about the muts. Jus when I thought that I was free to run upon the release of a siren, I was piercingly disappointed. Lunch time is indicated by some siren which makes me feel like I'm behind bars. And lunch time is not worth looking forward to if you're planning to eat good food. But however, it is useful if you're planning to loosen up your bowels a lil'. The only thing about lunch time which delighted me was the fact that I was half a day more to heading back to my home sweet home. Work is not in any way fun when all you do is look at the clock to see every single minute pass by and still yearn for the clock to spin faster than your head already is. This is how I felt when I was working in this engineering company some time ago. Why work in a place where all you do is look forward to rushing back home? I know that I do not in any way belong in such environment.

I do not indulge myself in anything I don't see enlightment in. If you want me, you either steam my balls or I make the calls. It's my way or the highway. I is not in the least way anticipating working in an engineering sector no more. So stop asking me what happened to me and all that thrash. It's all answered. That ended it all. I've made up my mind. I is not gonna be studying for my mum. I is studying for myself. No more engineering. My mum, has more or less lived her life. I still do not have a life. And it is now that I sculpt my future. I have decided on what to do.

Learn from my mistakes. Always do what you believe in. Even if you fail, who cares? You know you've tried. You know very well that you were that close to making it. You'll move on contented. So please do yourself a favour. Do something you like. As heartbroken as I am to realise the fact that my life has gone down the drain, I is still not completely over. I know it's never too late. But looking at the statistics below, I'm quite disappointed. Mum and dad have made the final call. They're not gonna spend a single cent on my education no more. Why you may wonder? Here's why:

No. of years wasted had I been an express student: 4
No. of time(s) I was kicked out: 2
No. of times my parents had to visit the school: Countless
No. of caning back in secondary school: Countless
No. of years I had to repeat: 2
No. of police cases filed under me: 8
Amt. of bling wasted on my poly fees: $6,500++
Amt. of bling wasted for my poly life: $12,000++
Amt. of bling someone my age working now would've earned: $28,800++
No. of warning letters I received: 50
No. of lessons missed: Countless
No. of lecturers put on fuck while in poly: 2
No. of times I had to get into the director's office personally: Countless
No. of teachers/lecturers put on fuck: 6
No. of teachers/lecturers hurt: 2

There we go. After so much has been said and done, I is still without a diploma. Definitely not the best of what I have to offer but I'll definitely make my mark soon. But the surprising thing here is that my brother somehow or rather gets the green light to studying law. Dad's gonna cover his entire expenses afta his army. Darn! Talk about outdoing your own flesh and blood. So if you have a sibling who gets more than you do, do the right thing. Shoot him. Where went my chance of doing what I wanna do? Money's gonna haf to be forked out for my own education now. So till then, I am stuck in square one. Jus like how this lil' rhyme goes:

When I was a bachelor
I lived by myself
And all the bread and cheese I got
I laid up on the shelf.
The rats and the mice
They made such a strife
I was forced to go to London
To buy me a wife.
The streets were so bad,
And the lanes were so narrow,
I was forced to bring my wife home
In a wheelbarrow.
The wheelbarrow broke,
And my wife had a fall;
Down came wheelbarrow,
Little wife and all.

Praba - 6:51 PM 0 comment(s)

How Did You Come Across This Blog?
	By Word
	Other Blogs
	Google
	Friendster
	Just Got Lucky