I guess it's time to say goodbye to PS and to leave behind the silent struggles for the past half a year. It's amusing how life is undergoing the inverse of how it used to be and how the mental burden has been transformed into nothing and unloaded. How memories are happy to remain in the past and how they don't jumble up to disturb the peace. Life is good, isn't it. Ok I guess by now nobody from Crez PS remains in the same CCA. Also seeking for something new. But anyway the connection is not be lost. I'm not tired of photography; I'm just tired of the process of familiarization and searching for the shadow of the past. No. No more. I live in present and I'm free.

Getting more emotional these days. The other day Becks' Galaxy--Oh I won't say "Becks'" but rather "that" Galaxy---lost shamefully and he was utterly depressed. I cried, reading the news. Imagine, I cried for Beckham. I have never cried for an Englishman in my life, let alone he is the Beckham to whom I've always been apathetic. Maybe I still remember him as the Real Madrid 23 who has struggled to do the team pride. And more ironically, I nearly came to tears when I heard some Califonia song,watching the Enron movie today. Again, (almost) cried because of U.S. What's this? I found myself no explanation. And just now I was watching this "we live in Singapura" MTV, so to speak, and I guessed it was then that the revelation was brought to me. It's nothing but sense of anchoring or identity, which I long for but lack. The Singapura video is funny enough, but none the less touching. I can sense the concern and contentment. I am not contented. My dream is yet to realise. I haven't found the place where I belong. Drifting, uprooted (is that so???), I don't have the sense of anchoring. Nowhere. And a long long way to go.

Would you be my hero?
Would you kiss away the pain?
Would you stand by me forever?
You've taken my breath away.
Tell me, are you crying? Are you drowning in misery? Are you being eaten up by sorrow? Or are you enduring the burden of glory that has passed, and of honour that you have failed to defend? They said I looked miserable. Without your happiness my happiness doesn't come. They say that you are the Spain in Southern American; that's not to be taken as a praise. But I love you both, almost the same way. You are where my faith lies. You are where I find myself a shelter. I am willing to go through all these ups and downs, with you by my side.

Laugh,and sigh.

It's no hearty laughter. It's the laughter of sarcasm. How marvelous I have been, to top the level in Spanish, to excel in English, to go beyond my expectations for history, and to be the last one for business. I am a genius, always successful at doing things wilfully, and at failing. I hate my marks for biz, it makes me absurd. Not so much humiliating yet, but I still hate it. I'd rather level the grades of all my six subjects, so that I don't stand out among the others, neither positively nor negatively. No I'm not saying I care about how others look at it, but I don't feel good myself. I don't feel good to fail this speechlessly. Sigh. I'm always following my own will, so much so that some of my potentials have been hidden and it has become hard to dig them out.

Now look at this, message from my previous literature teacher, after I told her my English and Spanish results: Fantastic! It's wonderful to note how the mindset of excellence has never left you. We are all mighty proud of you. Keep the flame of perseverance burning.

So now how do you feel? My first Lit teacher once said, she (me) is a good student--Well, she Was a good student, and she will be a good one. What's the point? I guess I have never been a good student throughout these nineteen years of my life. A good student has good disciplines and organisation; but I not. I follow my passion, and this makes me a good learner instead of a good STUDENT. Anyway I think I was a bit depressed today, and my performance in humanities wasn't good enough to comfort me.

And one more thing, THE CHANGE OF MY EE SUPERVISER IS MADDENING!!!

Eres mi guitarra. Una guitarra nueva. Bought a guitar today, in the hope that it will add another dimension to the monotonous life here. No no it doesn't serve as a kind of spice. It's another companion of mine, together with my camera,my xiao, and my Argentinian soccer ball. I bought this guitar, motivated by the longing for Spanish culture? Possible. Probably. I am trying to seize every form of media, to connect me to the faraway Iberica. Espanolistica. A created word, for myself, and for my dream. Talking about dream, God knows what this dream exactly is and when it will come true. What is it? For the longing to be responded to?

No. My current kind of life is not an enclosed city which arouses people's curiosity. I tell you school is horrible. Not the school itself but the programme. I was not talking with profoundness; it's simply what I have experienced and what I am undergoing. I used to thought it kinda hectic and fun, when I hadn't been in it, this IB. And it's such a hurdle. I don't mean it to be a hurdle just like I don't mean this diary to be lamentation. But it's like that. I guess I buy the guitar and I look for external CCAs because I feel like somewhat returning to my previous state where I really had some hobbies and I could set aside some time for them. And now. I am not a person who immensely enjoys stillness and monotony. I am a Libran to whom Freedom matters the most. And that is what I lack at this time. Now I feel fed up and longing to get rid of it. In two years' time. I shall wait patiently.

We are lost, unseen and not seeing, unknown by the others. These are the words form Joy Luck Club. I didn't know I can still recall something from it. I don't know if that's because of the helpless mood which makes everything seem destined. At that time my senior used to say it would be hardly practical to take up another foreign language in JC. But now. So, life is really full of unpredictability, which makes it good. Isn't it? There is still hope.