In Continuum.

Reminiscence

I saw a set of statistics done once,on what humans like to do while sitting upon their thrones.By thrones,i mean toilet bowls.Like,what people actually do other than doing their daily businesses.

Im not too sure of the order,but i remember a high percentage of people like to read,while another portion of people likes to talk on the phone,while others prefer to just stare into mid-air and just...wait for their business to be over and done with.And as for me,aside from the fact that i love playing guitar in the bathroom,i sometimes grab a book or newspaper to read as well.Very common,yes.But today i grabbed an old diary off the shelves that belonged to me a long time ago.

I remember my Primary School buddy,Weng Chuin(Now known as Marvin).A heavy weight kid with holes in his Bata shoes.He went to sunny Australia one year with his family,and came back with this awesome Goosebump diary that had me in awe.So,i decided to acquire my first diary from him,at merely four dollars.Think about it,four dollars was a lot of money for an average primary school kid.A single fish ball costs twenty cents,so four dollars would translate to twenty fish balls.Holy cow.

So there you have it,my very first diary.And it even had my favourite Goosebump character too.So the first entry was on 5th of August,1998.Check out the childishness of it all(The following is a quote from the entry itself):

Things to talk about...
Nah!Nothing much.It's just my sister's birthday that's all.But my mom doesnt seem to care!Weird...

News of the Day!
1.Junius might be the next Miss. Universe!
2.Chi Ho finally found his long lost brother.

At School...
Laugh shot(Whatever that meant)
.The music Mr. Beck prepared for the National Day.It suck(Without the -ed)!It's like funeral music or something.
.When Bingo scored,Meng Seong and Joshua shouted "Lim Bingo!".

I felt...
Quite good!Not bad.

Weather?
(Capitalized 'hot' with a sun wearing sunglasses)

And as for the rest of the year,it was empty.And how is that so?Because this diary thing lasted for less than a week.Under the "Things to Talk About" column i wrote "Nothing much..." the next day,and then the following days were just empty spaces altogether.

So there,my diary writing life ended right there.Pretty pathetic,but at least i got past three days.I remember how excited i was at first,to be holding this cool new diary.Reading the entries made me think of the good o'times.How i was so carefree about everything.If that kid from eight years ago were to read my old blog and the current one he wouldve started begging my mother to get him the real-life Peter Pan so he would send him to Neverland too.Because seriously,seeing how he will grow up to be like,feel like,i dont think he would ever want to grow old anymore.My blog entries are,let's face it,full of depressing stuff and most of all,anger.

Back then i was just this naive kid,writing entries about what a joke a certain classmate was or commenting on how bad the music was.It's not like my musical taste was that great anyway.A further venture into the shelves in the storeroom i managed to dig out my old autograph books.Now,THAT'S a gem right there.The embarrassing admissions by classmates and yourself all compiled and collected in this little book of truth.Twenty years down the road i am so going to bring this to a reunion of some sort and read everything out.Those stupid dog ears at the edge of the pages that read "Dont open!" were just...plain stupid.

I actually had Backstreet Boys and Savage Garden under my favourite music.How embarrassing is that?I mean,i dont hate them or anything.I still think,and appreciate Backstreet Boys for the memories they gave me.They make good music,comon'.But seriously,it's still embarrassing.

Oh my,the good o'days.How i miss them so.Now,Sunday.Another Sunday.Book in day.I remember myself dreading Sundays,how Monday's the first day of school every week.But seriously,little Weilien.You dont know shit about a screwed up life until about eight years later,before your computer with Babina,India in your head.Seriously,you dont know it.

I miss those days,as much as i miss those stupid autograph book entries i used to write in my friends' book,or the catchings in the field or where we called the "Sandy Area" at the back of the school.Those little memories,stupid memories,now gone and painfully so when i go outfield or go through life,reality.

I love the feeling of growing old.I really do.

I just hate missing the past.

And these days
I wish i was six again
Oh,make me a red cape
I want to be Superman

Oh,if only my life was more like 1983
All these things would be more like they were at the start of me
If my life was more like 1983
Plot a course to the source of the purest little part of me

And most of my memories
Have escaped me or confused themselves with dreams
If Heaven's all they want it to be
Send your prayers to me care in 1983

You can paint that house a rainbow of colours
Rip out the floorboards
And replace the shutters but
That's my plastic in the dirt

Whatever happened to my
Whatever happened to my
Whatever happened to my lunchbox?

When came the day that it got
Thrown away and dont you
Think i shouldve had some say
In that decision?

1983 by John Mayer