Had a long post but scrapped the whole thing in favour of SIMPLE. GODDAMNED. PROFANITY. A girl at the bus stop; her school said 'MFSS' and I was absentmindedly going 'Mother...fucker...secondary...school' before realizing what I just said.

Gorgeous guy here, plus So-Lo by Kate Havnevik has been on constant repeat. I guess it's time for me to do maths tuition worksheets but I keep feeling there's something I need/want to do, it is so distracting and honestly? I just feel like ceasing to exist for a moment.

william wordsworth makes me happy. I should've been born in 19th century england.

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16th August, Saturday, 1.09pm

'acceptance', 'redemption', 'friendship'

I am starting to learn that these things are not so easy, or perhaps I am just getting old.

If you're in the vicinity, or anywhere in Singapore really, you now have an invitation to the road outside my house. Standing outside my house, waiting for the gate to open, I discovered that the neighbours have planted some flowers in the patch of grass that I'd always thought belonged to us.

Ambiguous territory, then? Or wind pollination.

The flowers are most beautiful, and there is a delicate tendril of starry red flowers wound around the slanting branch of the palm tree. It looks so gentle and thin, I could easily tear it away. I don't know if it's a parasite.

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17th August, Sunday, 12.39a.m.

I do like Mr. Mennen better than Mr. Marc now. Everyone seems to find his lessons unbearable, which explains why everyone skips Maths tuition when it's his turn to teach, which makes the classroom extremely empty and quiet, which I like. Mr. Mennen is perhaps boring and so methodical... but he's thorough. Which is a trait I really appreciate, with olevels coming up. Whereas Mr. Marc is just 'Timecheck? Oh god. Shall we run now? Shall we run? Okay ah, next question! Pro-bah-billity!'

Mr. Mennen seems dedicated to making us resigned to our fates as students. 'It's tedious but... no choice lah. Give you five minutes to do it.'

-

Look, this is Frédéric Bourdin.

And here is his wonderfully fantastic, unbelievable, unsettling story. Look at that face, those wrinkles, the receding hairline - he's about 40 years old now. He reminds me a bit of Zozie de L'Alba (Lollipop, Joanne Harris), a master actor, manipulator and chameleon who took acting to an entirely different level.

-

Look at the moon tonight it is unspeakably beautiful. I can imagine ghosts drifting in the streets - perhaps they are partying and feasting and forgetting entirely the gates of hell that await them. I wonder if one day I'll go to hell and be punished for my sins, and perhaps have some punishment alleviated because of some good I've done. But I don't think that's how it works, right? If life truly has a duality, then the doing of good in real life should not be equated to the absence of punishment in hell. If that is the case, then evil-doers wouldn't be punished in hell - they simply wouldn't be given rewards.

And everyone would simply stagnate.

Anyway believe it or not, I'm a superstitious person. My upbringing wasn't exactly steeped in Chinese tradition, but I still won't sweep the floor on Chinese New Year, and if I give wallets to people as Christmas presents, I'll put money in the wallet to represent fortune. Whenever I walk past joss sticks or food offerings, I will make a small nod of respect and try to assume an air of deference.

Walking home today the moon was wonderful and I thought of Chang'e. I bet she was inside the moon, gazing up through the bone white ceiling of her spherical celestial home, scorning the man who dared trespass on her legend.

I mean, wow, why didn't she blast moon travellers off the face of the planet? China scores! It would've been fun.

1. Beverly's fridge has plums and strange Japanese chocolate.
2. Robyn called me asking if I knew of any lime plants nearby. Yes, it means exactly what it sounds like. We used to steal limes from neighbour's pots and make lime juice out of them. Terribly sour!