I was always the big paunchy one in class. But the tables turned in 2008. I remembered the day I looked in the mirror. I saw the sorry state I was in: the ripples on my skin, the mountainous folds that traversed my body like the Alps, the asymmetry of ugliness. As I laid back down on my bed, I could feel the gargantuan burden press down upon myself, almost asphyxiating me. I could feel my heartbeats as they seemed strained and torpid. I took up my hand mirror and looked at myself. The folds the dangled beneath my chin were accentuated by the forces of gravity. I could see ever pore of my face like craggy terrain. Yet I could see a beautiful face, buried in that sea of lipids. I was a travesty of a human being.
Everyday as I went to school. I saw them play. I saw him play. I saw them jump about like frisky gregarious lambs. What did it feel like to be part of a flock? What did it feel like to be unbound by the shackles of gravity. What did it feel like to not be consumed with thoughts of morbidity? I became increasingly consumed by the thoughts of desire. This burning passion possessed me.

Two years on, I am near the pinnacle of what I envisioned. But deep inside me is still etched the deep insecurities of that fat boy. Until I achieve a near zero fat percentage and an iron body. I will not be satisfied.

As I heard this phrase from Avril Lavigne, I could almost feel a sorrow well up in my throat. I'm not over it.

What am I really worth?

My dreams have been smashed to itty bitty pieces and in it's place is a faux ambition. Something I had contrived as a second best to what would have been my fairytale ending. I worked so hard from my depths of despair. I used to be worthless, ugly, fat and stupid. A complete good for nothing. But I polished myself, changed myself, refined myself, conformed myself for one sole ambition. I devoted my life to the attainment of academic excellence and crafted a portfolio I hoped would be my ticket into a lifetime of meaning.

Now that it's gone, all is left are the remnants of a soulless being. Someone ravaged by parental neglect and innate flaws.

I always feel socially inadequate where ever I go. I was talentless, uncool and ignorant. I took a lot of effort to keep up with the Jones's in secondary 3 when I realised what was wrong with myself. I was always the quiet one, the one forgotten, the one no one really talked to. No one even cared about my birthday. As much as a lot has changed, the scars are indelible. I have no happy childhood memories. Pokemon, Digimon, Harry Potter: I can only remember the tears I shed to no avail for a PS, a gameboy, a digivice. My dad never taught me sports. I know nothing about soccer, basketball or F1 racing. Likewise, I never made friends with these interests and could never break out of this vicious cycle. In fact, my parents actively barred me from sports CCAs. And without the fundamentals of sports I could not enter the sporting fraternity in my later education. Forever with is the inflexibility of my limbs and the battle scars I sustained in my fight against obesity. I looked at my peers who could play the piano and guitar, sing, dance, do sports so naturally, learn languages and whatever they wished. I feel so helpless. My parents would never oblige into financing my pursuits and I myself I am easily discourage (because my parents never gave support). Perhaps I lack confidence after all, maybe that's why everyone reject me.

I remain so jealous of my christian friends who can hold on to false hope in times of dejection. I have none. The price to pay for seeing the stark truth.

Envy I have for those who have the freedom to love. For I who never felt the love of my parents or the delusional love from religion am scared of love and affection despite yearning for it. I probably would have to hide in the shadows for no one will accept me for who I am.

What hope have I to hold on to?

I don't really want a life of luxury. I want a simple life far removed from the competitiveness and hustle and bustle of commerce. I want to surround myself in science and a believe in giving to society at all cost. Yet I want to live in solitude in an isolated room where I can let my solitary nature truly blossom. I would even die for my country if I had my dream ambition.

I feel sometimes like I have no real friends, no real family, no real worth and no real freedom. Would it matter if I were to cease in existence tomorrow. If tomorrow lies no happiness, is that a life worth living. If I were to be taken away tomorrow, I would gladly accept my fate for I see no value in a life of unhappiness. But I will never seek it, for life is the essence of hope.

I have always dreamed of being a doctor. But alas, today I know that dreams never come true for me.
I applied to YLLSoM during the application period and was shortlisted for the essay and interview round. I remember studying really hard for the interview and the essay in my bunk day after day.
Soon after I was left with the agonising wait. On the 13th of May, I heard that the admissions results were released. My medical attachment friends and a classmate got in. But as for me, my status remained "processing". My heart sank. I hoped desperately that I had been wait listed.
On the monday of that week, I sat at Jurong Point downcast and dejected. I pondered over my chances and bleary eyed I gave myself a sense of false hope.
Hope left me yesterday the 25th of May. My application status changed to processed. I was rejected.
I still remain adamant that I am deserving of a place in YLLSoM. I built my knowledge around medicine, taking H3 Biology and even winning a Biology essay competition. I joined the students' council and the interact club outof building a compassionated spirit in myself. These things I have done for naught.
And yet I know my classmate never wanted to do medicine, never had this field of accomplishments and yet managed to gain entry into YLLSoM. I am happy for him, but I'm upset by the unfairness of the way the interviewers accessed me.
I know another person who was my ex-classmate several times who got into medicine. He did not even have 3 H2 distinctions. But worst off, he had long been known to be someone who looked down on the weak and "uncool". He was someone I knew would never have compassion for the poor and the downtrodden whom will be the patients he will have to care for in future.
I am not alone though. All the 3 people I knew who went to my interview room did not gain entry into YLLSoM. All of them had portfolios just or more outstanding than mine. My bunk mate had 7 distinctions and track and field achievements. My friend had 8 distinctions but not many non-academic achievements. But I believe that my friend, with his gentle demeanour and superior intellect would have made an excellent doctor.
I have lost faith in YLLSoM's admissions criteria and the ability of local doctors to deliver quality healthcare to us, because doctors that lack the passion and the compassion will never have their patient's interest at heart.
Even if YLLSoM were to accept me tomorrow, I will think twice. Do I want to be in a community that is build on elitism and cronyism? Do I want to work with people whom I know will not share the same values as I? But knowing myself, I would say yes.

Last night my grandfather passed away suddenly of a cardiac arrest, collapsing in the kitchen while getting a drink. It was a sudden and unanticipated event for he never showed signs of physical duress.

When I woke up that morning, the news that broke to me send me into an emotional plunge, a silent dread. I had feared this day would come. Of all my grandparents, I loved Ah Gong the most. My paternal grandfather died when I was very young. My paternal grandmother spoke only teochew and so I could not truly communicate with her. Popo too passed away at an age when I was too young to understand the adult world and she too had a communication barrier with my generation. Ah Gong was my only friend from that generation.

I remember him as the most generous and jovial grandparent. I remember how twice, I stayed with him at the unit in Pasir Ris because I could play computer there without my mum's interference. He would bring me out daily and joked "this is the life of a bachelor". I remember how he was incredibly susceptible to my pestering. He accommodated nearly all of my demands.

I remember how I pestered him to watch a movie with me to his dread of course (he slept during the movie and I wasn't very pleased with that XD)and after that we went for a sakae sushi buffet (I'm demanding huh?) and he didn't eat a lot (I wasn't very pleased with that either XD). But at the end of the day I loved how he wasn't stingy like my mum and dad. For the first time I felt pampered. This wasn't the end of his generosity. I remember how he spent 30 dollars on my bermudas (of which I still have the dark blue shorts, I donated the light blue one because it was too gaudy sorry ah gong)out of his own initiative because he was concerned I had not enough clothes for my stayover. He was the one who bought me the harry potter DVD in a time when I was under witch hunting laws in my own home. Yes, my parents banned harry potter because they deemed was occult. I remembered how it was going to be my mothers birthday and I suggest to my grandpa to buy an pair of gold earrings for me to give my mum as a present. A mere suggestion became reality. I felt and still feel bad for making Ah Gong spent so much on me. Yet, I am glad I did so, as now I have things to remember him by.

I remember listening to Ah Gong when we were on the train. He was the one who taught me about how the protestant church was founded from the catholic church. This piece of knowledge I cited very often in my future pro-atheistic rhetoric. I remembered how I asked him whether he believed in the afterlife. But I have forgotten his answer.

Something my mum wouldn't be pleased to hear. It was ah gong who taught me how to shade 4D. I stupidly shaded the same number 34 on 2 tickets because it was my favourite number. Ah gong chided me after he found out.

Ah Gong is someone who will be deeply etched in my mind. When I ask myself why I want to be a doctor, I will always flash back to this moment in time where we stood in front of popo's coffin and tears flowed down his cheeks. I remembered his sniffles of sadness when we visited Popo's ashes and my great grandmother's grave. Seeing the helplessness of grief make a grown man tear brought a trembling through my heart. It is the insurmountable certainty of death that frightened me. I wanted to fight it. Today I stood before his serene face, tears welled up in my eyes, but I didn't tear. I will not fall into depression because of grief.

I however regret that I passed on the chance to see him one last last time because of my medical school interviews. That night, I received $15 instead of the usual $10. I felt guilty. Was he telling me that he wanted me to visit him? (It cannot because we just saw each other at his birthday on 1st April) Like an ominous sign of what was to come, I felt a shiver down my spine which I shrugged off. It was however, not the only sign. My energizer torchlight which he bought me spoiled the week of his departure (ie last week). All these years, I've received $10 every time I visited ah gong. I never understood why he would give us that (then big) amount money. It always meant a lot to me for my allowance was miserably low.

Today, my mother told me why. That $10 symbolised his blessings to me. To him, $10 was a pittance (trust me I know because he was carrying a $40k cheque when we went to raffles place). But to me, it meant a lot more spending power as a kid. I felt comforted by this symbolism. By giving to us, it felt like I was receiving a part of him.

Dear Ah Gong, I will remember you to my own deathbed.

School officially ended last week and this marked the end of my time in my class. I would then be finally safe to conclude that I should have no inhibitions about sharing my thoughts about the people I have spent with for about 2 years since it would be unlikely I would not be forced to be in contact with the same people again.

My class comprised of 26, now 25 students 8 boys (used to be 9) and 17 girls. Already from the gender demographics you can guess what it's like. Out of the 25 students, all but me, one other girl and boy, are from same sex schools. Being coed educated all my life, I had only one thing to say - what a harrowing experience that was.

All-girls schooled girls have the tendency to cling together, they have never met boys, they are threatened by boys this except for the classical rich extroverted girl. All-boys schooled guys tend to go the other way. They've never met girls, they want to interact with girls and they're usually the first to get into relationships. I could feel the gender bias, I felt I was the only guy in an all-girls school.

Rule 1 in clique formation. The extroverts/popular people form the first clique. The first clique that formed took away 2 boys and 3 girls. One jock, one joker and 3 valley girl (typically rich, extroverted, erm bbtic girl).

Rule 2 in clique formation, cliques stick together. 4 girls were from SMGS. 2 girls were from MGS. 2 were Indonesian scholars.

Rule 3 in clique formation. Birds of a feather flock together for the rag tag leftover people. Incompatible people do not mix (e.g. two boys from the same school one jock one nerd). But this rule doesn't hold well. But it holds well with girl cliques, girls stick with girls, forming cliques only if the guy initiates.

I didn't get all these rules from a book. I discover these rule myself, both from my class and my CCA. I was never prepared to enter a class with so many same-sex schooled people.

I always wanted a guy clique to be formed by my hopes never materialise. There we're still 7 clique-less guys. But the class rep was pursuing he's own agenda of getting into a relationship. I tried my best to initiate group conversations during class but our personalities were drastically different with too many extreme introverts. The other co-ed educated guy preferred hanging out with girls. The Indonesian scholar was trying to enter the popular clique but failed to integrate (oh and he scares me and I get a feeling that he doesn't like me). The Malay scholar left by the end of 2009 due to performance issues and he was always skipping school although I liked his personality. And another Indonesian student was skipping school just like the Malaysian scholar but he was friendly. In the end, all that was left was me and Joel. But honestly he often got annoying when he started whining or speaking intelligibly (yes you annoy me Joel if you're reading this).

On the more personal level. I used to have so much hope for the class. I thought we could be one big group instead of divided factions and so I thought I could be empowered by the class committee to do this. I took up the post of assistant class rep to uphold the welfare of the class, basically celebrating birthdays, hoping to organise events with the committee. The problem was, the committee wasn't interested in going the extra mile despite me pushing the class rep for action. Nonchalance persisted, I quit during the middle of 2009. I still held the strong need to give recognition to all class members and so I initiated their birthday celebrations for the rest of the year.

There was a feeling that the class didn't like me in general. A reason put forward by my superior in council who was also in my class was that I had taken up a reputation of being demeaning and negative due to the reproachful tact I take towards Joel's annoyance. Or it was possible my enthusiasm towards things seemed fake. Or it could be because I was alienating my classmates because I was consistently outperforming them in the first year. I could tell it from their eyes and how they excluded me from outings. How I was rarely bothered. This was most pronounced from my ex-PW mate and her friend, my fellow CCA-mate, girl-next-block, co-participant of the oversea trip to china and other CCA-mate (whom my OG kid told me called me digusting). These people especially seemed to ignore my existence despite the commonalities we had. It was all too obvious when I could sense that my class was talking behind my back. Once my classmate would at the least say "hi" and now everyone started giving me the cold shoulder. I don't have the courage to investigate, but I did have the courage to bear with it.

But a decision I never regretted was moving to the back where I befriended the twins and my ex-PW mate. I finally entered a clique for the first time in 2 years (Joel soon follow of course, he's a very loyal friend). Late, but not too late. While it took awhile for them as extreme introverts to open up (especially to overcome the bias against boy's being from all girl schools), they were forthcoming and invited me to an ECP outing. I appreciate their company. They also shared a similar feelings towards the class and I thought it was encouraging that I was not alone.

On the last day of school, while the rest of the class were camwhoring and subsequently went out for a last class outing in a superficial show of unity, it was no wonder that me, twins, Joel and my ex-PW mate were no where to be found. We were enjoying our hotpot at Illuma. Pity that my ex-PW was still recovering from her flu otherwise she could have eaten more.

While perhaps I started on the wrong note, I admit I was probably overzealous, but i tried my best. After all I did for the class, ensuring that their birthdays were celebrated, they could never give me the acceptance and inclusion I wanted so much. While my negative emotions towards them could be justified, I'm glad I took whatever opportunity I had left to make new friends.

I don't think I can make it. I'm mentally prepared to retake the 'A's during NS. I wanna go to medical school. I want to have my ideal dream and I'm gonna fight for it. But reality gives me a big fat slap in the face. Econs is going to drag me to hell and I don't know how to stop the descend. But at least I've got friends equally lost with me. At least I know I do not fight alone. But we've got little time. 35 days to be exact and thats a mere 5 weeks.

Sure I'm done with chemistry basic revision and bio is going to be a breeze, but I know math will take a while. Econs is going to take even longer.

Everyday is dreary and I grow weary of life. And something tells me life isn't going to get any better. I may end up working like a slave for the rest of my life. With property prices sky high I'm going to be ridden with debt in my thirties when I buy my own flat. I will probably never find true love no matter how much I dream of it, because it does not exist for me in my society. I will live alone in my HDB flat for the rest of my life. When I'm old there will be no one to care for me and will register myself into an old folks' home. When I die, no one will be at my funeral. And in the grave, I will rot under an unmarked grave, forgotten in the sands of time.

I wish something would just save me from this ignominous destiny. Killer litter? Traffic accident? Electrocution by lightning? Drowning? Heart attack/Stroke? I can't save myself, I fear pain but I'm not afraid to die.

It's barely 6 weeks to A levels, it almost seems like time just went by like that and with my systems in paralysis I have never felt more lost and panicked at the same time. Still stricken by my prelim results that were far from being able to qualify for my dream occupation, I think I need to reconsider my ambitions. Either that or I need to plan retaking the As.

I feel defeated as though lady luck has set her sights on someone else. And somehow it seems like it's all down to luck, when it is actually not. That's the problem, some pieces of information is missing yet I feel as though I'm ready. It's like my feedback mechanism has gone wrong.

During the Os I was so driven, probably because I wanted to prove something to myself and I know that isn't lost yet. But it's as if I'm just not climaxing the same way everyone can. it's been a characteristic that I've unintentionally adopted. being someone no easily excited and someone pretty consistent. But this trait is also partly my flaw, when i find it hard to rise to the occasion.

I miss the old days when it was just me and my study buddy and things were much happier than. But things are different now that we're in different classes, as though something has intrinsically diverged and he's converge towards different and more introverted values. I know for that one aspect of me hasn't changed, bringing humour into a conversation. But tastes have changed and it appears my humour is only met with chagrin. I find this discouraging it only highlights the rift.

But something about AC and junior college education just bothers me. Let me see, we only managed to complete the syllabus just before the exams at late july and immediately after that was the prelim exams which detrimentally places people in the post exam mode. What is wrong is that hardly any time was given for consolidation. Not to mention that school ends really late at 4.30 on some days,leaving us exhausted from the day's activities. The result is the disappointing grades the various departments saw in our prelim results. The problem lies in the school lack of trust in our ability to manage our own studies. Forcing us to attend lessons when productivity is near zero is ridiculous.

In secondary school, lesson time was lesson time because the syllabus was also covered during lesson, but now with the separation of tutorial and lesson which breaks the cycle of lesson-tutorial and couples it together, much of the tutorial time ends up being redundant "revision". And the strange thing is that we can skip lectures but not tutorials since it's more personal.

So the result, is less learning and more "revision" that is bound to result in information gaps. The worst part is that people are forced to attend school to ridiculously late times. And the consequence is that we fail to do our honework, or tutors are more reluctant to adminster them. In the end it is the double jeopardy of more "recaps" and undone homework/lack of homework. And let's not get me started on how tutors have less time to mark their student's scripts and so are even more reluctant to administer homework, effectively breaking the feedback cycle to students which involves homework --> marks --> correction of mistakes and also to teachers which then cannot access their student's ability. Take the economic department for example, I have hardly written more then 10 essays as homework.