In Continuum.

History Overdose

I'm putting you baby
I'm putting you right out of my mind
I'm putting you baby
I'm putting you right out of my mind
So tired of running after you girl
And being one and one half steps behind

You know that you have studied too much history, when random Greek names invade your thoughts while you are halfway through your dinner, or a Roman name would escape your lips when you are sitting on the toilet. It is even more serious when you actually make sense out of the documentaries on Discovery Channel about ancient Greek and Roman civilizations, not to mention the Chinese and the Indian civilizations as well. It'd be even more disturbing if you are able to link all the movies you've ever watched in the past into a comprehensive time line, and the point out all the historical mistakes that they've made in the screenplay. Now that would be a sure sign that you have studied too much history - like me. My head hurts from all the words that I have been desperately trying to swallow, and the same words that I've been desperately trying to regurgitate out onto the exam paper. The history paper is over, and yet there is still a slight nausea in my head. I am disorientated, sickened, and I feel like clawing my textbook until the pieces are small enough for it to pass through a needle hole. I resent history as much as I love it, and it is a relationship that I share a lot with women, unfortunately.

They always say that memories are beautiful things, as long as you don't have to deal with them. People can't seem to understand that we need to leave certain aspects of our history behind, because there are a lot of things that we already know in the present tense. We don't really need to draw lessons from our past, to better our lives in the future. But anyway, I suppose history is one of those subjects that is never going to go into history, because it it is the more interesting cousin in the Humanities family try. By the way, I don't exactly consider literature to be a form of humanities, or should it be a subject that should be studied at all. It should be a form of art that is free to all, not for students to dissect during their examinations and to tear their eyes out at three in the morning while trying to figure out certain implications or undertones.

History is catching up with me, and it is catching up with me in the speed of a runaway train. Check out these words that I am able to come up with off the top of my head, despite the fact that the paper already ended about eight hours ago: Harrapan; Hoplites; Arthasastra; Mahabaratha; Mandate of Heaven; Solon; Gaius; Caesar; Pompey; Crassus; Tiberius; Octavious; Augustus; Nero; Trajan; Marius; Pericles; Plato; Socrates; Aristotle; Pisistratus; Cleisthenes; Leonidas; Macedonia; Alexandra; Philip II; Antony; Cleopatra; Actium; Re; Horus; Atem; Osiris; Isis; Hammurabi; Chandragupta; Brahmins; Kshatriyas; Vaisyas; Sudras; Pariahs; Sati; Sheng Nung; Huang Di; Fu Hao; Xia; Shang; Zhou; Qin; Han; Homonids; Homo-habilis; Homo-sapiens; Homo-erectus; Neolitic; Paleolitic; Dharma; Arete; Karma; Artha; Kamasutra; Shiva; Brahma; Vishnu; Athena; Parthenon; Athens; Sparta; Thebes; Crete; Minoan; Mycenae; Hellenistic Empire; Confucious; Lao Tsu; Sun Tsu; Dao; Aryans; Pontus Pilate; Jesus of Nazerath; Nirvana; Reincarnation; Ke; Mesopotamia; Spartacus; Ephors; Aristocrats; Paterfamilias; Pax Romana; Polis; Darius I; Darius III; Xerxes; Archimedes...so on and so forth. As much as I appreciate the fact that I do have such knowledge, I'd like them to be out of my head for a while. After all, I wouldn't want to be writing another essay about the influences of Greek in Rome for my English essay on Friday. I'm sure Nina wouldn't mind, but we all know how the crooked-eyed is a pain in the ass.

Go tell your friends now
Go tell your friends what Johnny did
Go tell your friends
Go tell your friends just what Johnny did
If they don't tell you that you're crazy baby
Lord, they're as messed up as you is!

There is a saying that goes " If the past is history and the future is unknown, then today is a gift - that's why they call it the 'Present'". I'm sure the person came up with that phrase for a reason, and that is to appreciate what we have right here, right now. Be it an advice that your friend gives you while she wipes away the tears from your eyes, or the counsel of your psychologist as he holds your hand in his, most of them are going to tell you to let go of the past and too ahead into the future, all the while appreciating what you have in the present. I'm not trying to say that we should just erase our minds of the events in the past, and how our world has been shaped to become what it is today. But I guess, I'm the kind of person that works very much on self-motivation, rather than the sort of motivation that is forceful in nature.

I remember the history teaching I had in high school, and she was the personification of the word 'History'. She wasn't an old lady with her nose collapsing under her thick reading glasses, with a head of white hair and thick like thread. She was a young high school teacher, unafraid of the challenges of teaching a single-sex high school, and even more undaunted by the fact that she taught history - probably one of the most hated subjects in existence in high school. Home Economics was actually fun, in contrary to common beliefs, because you get to make horrendous food for your most hated teachers to taste, and you even get to - like me - burn down the school kitchen. As for History and Geography, they battled for the first place throughout my four years there, simply because the both of them had aspects of me that interested me, and the aspects that never failed to put me into comatose state halfway through their classes. History had the World Wars, which were the most interesting chapters because they involved explosions, guns, good versus evil, and a whole lot of death. On the other hand, it becomes inevitable to study Singaporean history, which is perhaps the most boring history I have ever experienced. Seriously, with merely forty two years in the country's official history, there aren't a lot of to boot to the whole wide world. Geography had the plate tectonics chapters, but it suffered the same fate as it went on to explore the rocks and the pebbles. Brilliant!

Vanessa Tan, my high school history teacher, reminded me of the Crypt Keeper from Tales from the Crypt. She looked too small for her wardrobe, and even smaller as she stood there in front of the class of teenage boys and shook like a Chi Hua Hua would in front of a bunch of bigger, more ferocious dogs. I remember how she stuttered for the first few lessons, but those were soon replaced by her sorry attempts to keep the discipline of the class in check. But of course, with a scrawny teacher like herself and a voice not louder than the squeal of a mouse, discipline automatically went out of the window. History never clicked with me, though I do enjoy historical epics in the theaters every once in a while. I guess it only works when they are not shown in classrooms, or when we are supposed to dissect the textbook just to find out the hidden implications. We haven't gone to do that in our own syllables yet, but I'm sure it is only a matter of time. Angelica isn't half as bad as Vanessa, but she needs to work on that accent of hers, because nobody ever understands her questions.

For now, I'm hoping to put history in the back of my mind, to rid myself of this historical overdose. I've just finished my Computer Science paper, which means that I am more than halfway through this academic nightmare of mine. I didn't go too well for me, but I guess it is comforting to know that everybody tanked, in a perverse sort of way. Two more papers to go before the second part of the Computer Science paper comes, then the weekend. The glorious weekend. The beautiful weekend. At long last, only two days away. Soon my precious, soon.

I'm putting you baby
I'm putting you out of my mind
mind, mind mind,
I'm putting you, baby
I'll put you right out of my mind
So tired of running after you girl
And being one and one half steps behind