Randomest random

Man, I’m in no mood for blogging but I don’t want it dead, so…

Okay, lets get my marks for starters

Hmm, I failed maths by 0.4 currently and judging by the geog common test only, I passes geog by 1.7. Now the world’s turning crazy, I see pink elephants all around. My chinese is better than these 2 subjects, which is kinda good in a way that I passed it by 5 marks. Oho! Um, anymore subjects? Oh yea, what lousy esteem do I have. By the physics common test alone, I scored 85! Biology not bad as well, 68.3 not very good but okay in comparison. Chemistry, 81! Language Arts is cool as well, I’m expecting 80 cos journal marks are yet unreleased, yay.

Oh wow, my grades are okay right? But mom and dad’s bound to send me to the slaughterhouse for my maths grade. Man, their both masters at math and computer science, one’s physics PhD, sad. You see, last year I’ve got 87 for math overall so this year, expectations are up a notch. But they just held onto the belief that my grades are dropping if my maths grade is dropping, but look at my sciences. I’m still good in them, though, but not as fervent about chem as I was last year as a result, I couldn’t really grasp anything beyond textbook knowledge, or rather, refuse to.

My lit was a whole lot better than last year. I like how they allow space for us to explore and besides I think more nowadays so LA rocks. Sigh, what a lousy day. I’m halfway into finishing my film review for Empire of the Sun and don’t know where to stop, its 3 pages already and by this rate, its really freaky, nvm, I shall just end it with a full stop. In a Mengying style, even the coach said so.

Aha, which reminds me, yesterday was crazy. To be sure, I was crazy. Eh, hang on, people don’t talk about themselves going crazy uh? So I shall chuck this somehwere. I bought choc eclairs for them kids! Yummy! I’m a philantrophist. Oho, 9 people owe me money. Hoho, better pay up if you’re reading this. But no one will read it anyway cos I’m so verbose in my entries. Haha, my friend says I write essays here. Today is do-nothing day in Okie Dokie Olie! I like Zoe, you know, that kiddy show on Playhouse Disney Channel. My bro watches that so I sneak on in! yay.

Crazy nursery rhymes!

Ah nighty everyone, I’ve just yawn-ed away a geog report and ACE essay. Actually they weren’t exactly meant to be reports and essays or anything as high-sounding, but sadly, I make it so. They were supposed to be a worksheet and reflection respectively and I think you-know-what. I churned out 2 three-pages long papers that’s enough to be published. Alright, to sound less narcisstic- that’s enough to kill a man. Sorry, I don’t think this is any better uh? Nevermind, I just know its going to be one and I have been alternating between 12am, 3am snooze-hours each day. So one day I’ll be all hyper and the other day, oh well, leave Little Boy Blue alone. You know, the kid who lost his sheeps while sleeping on a haystack? Or was it Peter? I dunno, there’s just too many kids and too many sheeps or lambs or goats, whatever you name them.

Like Mary with her fleeeeeeeecy lamb, Little Bo Peep, who goes Beep Beep!, and maybe yea the male-kids, oh yea, the Baa baa black sheep have you any wool! YES SIR YES SIR THREE BAGS FULL! Oh my, I finally remembered. O, childhood.

 Wonder why the fetish with lambs or sheeps or goats or whatever you call them? I know pecans either. How nice, pecans, I’ve always prefered pecans over nuts so this goes!

Anyone come up with an answer? Or is it religious? I think so uh? But poor sheeps or lambs or goats or whatever you call them. They are churned into Shepherd’s Pie and have Mary that kiddish, Beep Beep! the noisy, the enigmatic black sheep song, Little Boy Blue whom I can only say whose Mother has a thang for blue dance and prance around the dining table with forks and knives, sigh. What has etiquette class become?

Nevermind, I love them, all kids. How lovely! If given a choice, I wanna be The Little Teapot short and stout, here is my handle, here is my snout! How very cheerful. I like unanimate things that are animate, think about it, how interesting. How_______! How________! Sorry, its 1240 already and I’m under the influence, the influence, the influence of the……influence….

I love this.

Quite an interesting poem I have here. Haha, read the last line, how startling!

Resume

Razors pain you;

Rivers are pain;

Acids stab you;

And drugs cause cramps.

Guns aren’t lawful;

Nooses give;

Gas smell awful;

You might as well live.

                                                                    – Dorothy Parker

Dorian Grey

The artist is the creator of beautiful things.To reveal art and conceal the artist is art’s aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things. The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only beauty. There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all. The nineteenth century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass. The nineteenth century dislike of romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face in a glass. The moral life of man forms part of the subject-matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium. No artist desires to prove anything. Even things that are true can be proved. No artist has ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style. No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything. Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an art. Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art. From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art of the musician. From the point of view of feeling, the actor’s craft is the type. All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors. Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital. When critics disagree, the artist is in accord with himself. We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely. All art is quite useless. OSCAR WILDE  From The Picture of Dorian Grey, wonder what he meant eh?