shadows of the past that find me here, make memories long forgotten ever so near
written: 12:04 p.m. on Friday, Nov. 22, 2002

I found out from my friend that the teacher who taught me Chinese literature in Secondary one and two has passed away. It was cancer, leukemia to be exact. This reminds me of a story my form teacher told the class about something that happened to the teacher in her older school. She underwent chemotherapy and lost her hair. She taught Chinese, and the school had a Chinese test one day. Chinese requires one to construct sentences using a few Chinese phrases. One of the phrases was 'shi hai', Chinese for 'body', or 'dead body', if I'm not wrong.

In a rough translation, one student wrote, "I stared at the body for a while and then realised it was the body of a hairless [insert Chinese teacher's name]."

That made me sick. Even though I don't know who the stupid student was or what school the kid is from, it made me sick. Still does, actually.

I've never liked Chinese lit. In fact, I always slept during Chinese lit lessons. Nobody ever take it seriously because the grade does not count towards the year-end overall mark. In other words, it was a subject taught for the fun of it. Of course, it isn't fun. I won't lie and say I enjoyed those classes when I really wanted to go home and take a nice long nap instead. But I did like the teacher. She was nice and friendly and she knew her stuff.

Now I wish I'd known her better.

I think it's rather sad that one is motivated to get to know another person on a deeper level only after that person has died. Is this the course of life? Is it another part of engraved DNA? If so, I don't know what to say to that.

It's rather weird to type about exams and shit like that after writing the above, but I'm still gonna do it. Biology. The simple one. I studied two pages of blood last night and the first question was on a stupid flower. Bleah. They asked about what determines the chorosomes of a male and a female, and my answer was: "'Et tu, Brute? Then fall, Caesar!', 'Hence! Wilt thou lift (up) Olympus?', 'Thy evil spirit, Brutus.' The Bard rocks!"

Quote, unquote. Wrote down a line from one of Jim Carroll's poems when they asked for a word equation that represents the reaction and the secretion of lactic (?) acid in the muscle when it undergoes severe exercise. I knew it was an acid, but I forgot what, so I wrote nitric acid which is wrong, but it's just too bad.

The reason I filled in Shakespearean quotes and poetry was because, obviously, I didn't know how to answer the questions. More importantly, I remembered something Ian told me a million years ago. He wrote down rock lyrics in his Chemistry exam. That was back in 1999. 3 years later, and that's one of the few things I remember him saying to me last.

I was stupid once and I used to beat myself up over the fact that he is gone, he has fucked off even though I didn't exactly tell him to. Now I don't care anymore, and it doesn't matter to me either way because I don't need him. I never did. Still, I can't let go. I wonder if he's still alive. I wouldn't be surprised if he's already killed himself.

A few people who has taken away my ability to trust: The Ex-Best Friend, Ian, a primary school 'friend' who read my diary while I was taking a shower in a hotel room in China.

I trusted, and the reason to trust was taken away from me. Ian took it with him the day he decided he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. The Ex-Best Friend snatched it along with my best friend and my childhood memories. And the greatest thing is, I haven't a slightest clue what happened. Nobody fought. Nobody cried. There wasn't any huge confrontation, neither was there any fallouts.

I've learnt to get over it, and it doesn't hurt me anymore. It's all in the past. But I still can't let go.

(Short description from: "Reflections" by 17-year-old Elijah Ramirez)

before sunrise // before sunset


Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010