Dear Mr. Socrates
Dear Mr. Socrates;
I know that you are dead. And dead isn’t being exactly verbal either. Furthermore, it is clear you will never ever read this letter, primarily because you are dead.
But at this point, I have no idea who to turn to right now. Right inside me, I am so confused and shameful right to the core. And since you are such a legend internationally for your great vast knowledge and famous ability to reason logically. I was hoping by posting this letter you could come up from your decayed load of remains, and provide me with some pointers spiritually on how to deal with my life.
I mean, truthfully, I been making a great mess of myself. I have screwed up my life, screwed up my face (splattered it and scarred it with phenol), and treated someone who is very important to me, badly.
Yes, turning to a dead thousand over century’s dead corpse for advice is utterly pathetic. I admit it, I AM pathetic. In any case you are enraged over me disturbing your eternity long sleep, be honored by the way. I was seriously contemplating whether to write to Zeus instead. But since Zeus was by far only known to be alive in mythology stories and Hercules cartoons in Disney channel, I decided that you are a much better choice.
Besides, I figured out that if you are too busy generating sexual ghostly moans with some nether world banshee (How do you even make love to a banshee, I wonder) to care about me, I could probably turn to Zeus later on. I am such a big Hercules-abs fan that he probably would forgive me for making him the second choice, should he exist, that is.
Oh, how am I supposed to start? Where do I even begin? I have no idea even how start the ball rolling. First there’s my schoolwork. It seems that I have completely lost the sync inside me. No motivation, no perseverance, and no fruitful results. Everyday, I am procrastinating and pushing everything I am suppose to get doing right at the back of my head.
It’s me, you know. I no longer have the rhythm to give my all to everything I do. No matter how I tried to reprimand my own actions. I can’t ever get back the attitude that I was, to work hard and think of no less then that.
Then there’s my constant source of worry, the wound right at the end of my foot. It seems no difference to the day it got infected. And from what I have been researching and reading up on the net, the chance of it getting amputated seems really near.
I read that there are microbial floating bacteria in the air that may get inside and start gnawing my flesh off. I read that there are those icky mutating organisms that might just get immune to all the antibiotics on earth and continue torturing the victim’s life. I read that there’s this flesh-eating bacteria that is able to end your life in 48 hours.
Not that my life is worth living, but I really have so much things to do before ending my life. There’s the first million to earn before 40, there’s the perfect dream house I have been designing since 7, there’s the transparent crystal glass piano that I want to own and play everyday. I also dream of traveling around the world and see the 7 wonders (which include the great barrier reef). Finally, there’s the potential beautiful child inside me waiting to grow and be part of me.
You see, I really really have much to achieve before saying goodbye. Or even worst, be crippled for life.
Oh, and Mr. Socrates, I gotta say I love the silky look of your white beard I saw from the pictures in the net.
And there’s the treating bad issue. I did something deliberately to someone who really cares for me in order to spite, and let myself get even. But in the end, I didn’t feel good at all. Instead, I feel worst. And now, things aren’t the way I want. I really hate and regret deeply myself for doing that, and have no idea how to even bring myself to forgive my own mistakes.
I realized that all that I did was awful and horrible. And every little dissatisfaction or disappointment that I feel all boils down to me, me and me. I was blind to what others feel, and could only drink upon thinking only for myself. I was selfish and rebellious in making things the way I like.
Just because I could, doesn’t mean I should. And just doesn’t mean I feel this way, doesn’t mean I have to let the culprit feel this way as well.
To cut the long story super short, can you just teach me how to forgive myself, correct myself and move on from my mistakes? I don’t like the fact that I am such a headstrong, stubborn girl who’s so ugly right inside. I am practically repulsed by myself. I took a piece of paper just now, and jotted every lil ugliness I see inside me, and it was really a long list. I know humans, by nature all, aren’t perfect. But I think I am like to the most extreme. It really disgust and frightens me at how ugly I am inside.
I think I am sinking into a bout of depression. I feel so shameful and sorry for the hurt I inflicted. It’s now, that I truly understand what’s the meaning behind “Two wrongs doesn’t make one right”. I have like 20 over wrongs, which means, the chances of making it right is 10 times even harder to achieve.
So Mr. Socrates, you being a world greatest philosopher ever in this world. Surely, you would have some way out of my pit of detestable emotional quicksand that’s swallowing me up? I have tried using your renowned Socratic method to face my problems. But instead, the answers I have come up with seemed to give more trouble then help.
I hope I am not asking a lot, but could you just be quicker in coming up answers for me? Unlike you, I don’t have a centuries long, and more, to think and analyze why the butterflies flies or the banshee moans during sex instead of wail. Obviously right now, the above problems are so much more important then banshee’s sexual history.
Cause I don’t have much time, the few nights without a great sleep and swollen eyes is pulling me down. I really don’t think I can think or take it anymore.
I just need some tips, some nod at your benevolent head to show that I am doing something right.
Just in case, I forget saying thanks when I meet you, I shall say my thanks here in advance
Yours Sincerely;
Soh Ziwei Grace
Just a common irritating imperfect mortal
Which NDP song for 2007 do you identify best with and why?
“Will you” is my choice for being the best among the two.
My reason is simple. This song speaks more than just it’s declarations of commitment and love to our motherland. The non-verbal significance that strikes me the most is actually the idea of bringing about talented singers of different racial groups, combining them together – forming a song that spells more than unity among citizens, but unity amongst all racial groups, promoting a harmonious diversity of ethnicity in the country.
In a world where there is much chaos over difference in ethnicity, our country is proud to be one who reign peace over that factor. And that itself portrays deeply in the song that I chose.
Of course, I can’t forget to mention of the deep aspirations the song gives. Of bringing Singapore into a city who, as commonly said, a place we call home. It’s speaks further about improving Singapore, advancing it and improving into a better place. Strong verses such as “ will you scale new heights? Will you make it happen?” shouts a national challenge to all citizens, to play each individual part in bringing Singapore into a nation that everyone can be proud of.
“Will you brave this journey, will you help make it real”. To me, I personally feel it is telling Singaporeans of the aspirations that Mr Lee Kwan Yew spoke about, to make Singapore a first world country. That itself, is a voyage that is hard to reach and requires every Singaporean’s help in achieving. Hence, the song again increases it’s significance, by adding a additional message in the song. A message that impacted the whole nation, a message that brings us, Singaporeans, far.
It’s a song that beckons improvement, a song that symbolizes unity, a song that proclaim racial harmony, a song that represents us all, Singaporeans.
Protected: Under the blue skies and white frothy clouds, are you thinking of me as well?
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Another entry of gracesoh.wordpress.com diary
Dear diary,
I wish i can tell you that my week had been filled with a fabulous whirlwind of new experience, and i am as well as looking forward to the future SIP days.
But, that is so not true. In fact, the most interesting that happened during this week was seeing the solution of lithium chloride and magnesium oxide form to a semi-solid cake when beaker B’s content are mixed with it. And interestingly, the most adrenaline rushing time i had so far was when i held Cindy’s PSP in my hands, zooming through a virtual car race in a sleek BMW.
The most significant and logical thing that i learnt so far is that it’s cool having much to slack about. But when there is too much time to slack, that totally becomes uncool.
It becomes even more uncool when you are expected to do things that you don’t even understand, aimlessly following directions. And when you try to clear your doubts, you can’t. Because whatever i am dealing with are suppose top secret and highly confidential. So it’s just shut up and do your work. Full-stop.
Diary, I wish my internship would be so much more interesting. I mean, if given a internship which is mega-ly interesting and a constant source of new experience, i totally won’t mind giving up the $600 allowance that everyone has, I also don’t mind traveling all the way to the other side of Singapore early in the wee time of the dawn. I seriously won’t mind giving up all that just to be in a reputable company with nice supervisors who are eager to impart valuable knowledge to me.
Unfortunately, the seniors around here are only eager to impart to me that they have successfully scored distinction for their major project(!!!!) while my supervisor, Mr Kenneth Tang, tells me realistically that for mine, it’s totally impossible.
*pulls hairs out*
He then giggly assure me that we could reasonably aim for a B+.
B+!!!! WHAT’S A B+ COMPARED TO DISTINCTION!!! LIKE HELLOoO!!! I TOTALLY NEED THAT FRIGGIN DISTINCTION!!!!
He(Mr Kenneth Tang) also added that for research projects, distinction is like way more possible. That, highlighted to my brain registration that mine is obviously not in research range.
After that, I felt absolutely so “cool” about in-house now.
Sure, there is a whole load of time to slack all i want and squash my little ventation into black ball, whacking it aggressively against the wall.
But as much as i like playing squash, squashing everyday is so… boring. And the thought of being enchained to this torturous boredom for the rest of the semester practically gives me nightmares.
I think i am starting to cry.
I feel such a cow to not come in terms with in-housing even though a week has passed. But at the same time, the thought that i am letting a huge opportunity to learn a huge colossal amount of enriching experience at some reputable company is so vexing. That, and the allowance part.
Sometimes, in the midst of helping a lecturer do his project, i wonder am i doing the school a favor, or is the school giving me a favor.
Am i allowing myself to be exploited to do cheap old labour, or am i owing the school a thanks for giving me chance to toy around with their boring old laoya equipment.
And i didn’t even get a chance to holler loudly at the intercom for help in my distinction-assured major project!!! Taking note that it isn’t even distinction to be expected.
Furthermore, with the lecturers lecherously snatching up me and Joanna to help them with their projects, slacking is like so not in the dictionary anymore. It’s now more like busy with boring routines.
I am seriously dreading Monday!!!! God! I hate routine and consistent boredom!!!
This pathetic situation of mine just strengthens that God, almighty savior, does not exist. Either that, or he is having a comfortable tickle in the bone to see me suffer. I can imagine him saying “Grace, it’s just too bad. Ho ho ho!!!”
Hang on wait, “hohoh” is Santa isn’t it?
Whatever.
Grrrr….Think positive grace. Otherwise, you will be stuck with a un-contented growly old face all the way.
Continue pouring those milky anonymous solutions and gain no knowledge. Continue being such a sweetiepie and willingly help out all their lecturers with their projects (aka DRP)
NOT!!!!!!
BAH! I AM IN A FOUL MOOD NOW.
A family of 7…
Disclaimer: I tried to type this out in a neutral tone. But somehow, maybe it may seem a little one sided. Well, just to say my piece. Forgive me if i have offended anyone with this post
Once upon a time, there live a family of seven. There’s the daddy, the mommy, the eldest and big brother, the next eldest daughter, the middle child daughter, the younger daughter and of course, the youngest and the prettiest daughter.
Pushing all formalities aside, the eldest son, Z, is a brain in the family. He passed through all education barriers with ease and seamlessly, without much effort, Z got into a prestigious university in the country with a well-respected course in hand. A doctor. The apple in mummy’s eyes.
The next eldest daughter, A, is actually no different from brother Z. She was hardworking, motivated, easy-going and had this charm in her that allows her to infiltrate into all kinds of status quo. It’s no wonder she was the next apple in mommy’s eye. After brother Z of course. Again, with all her qualifications and impressive testimonials, she got into the similar prestigious university that brother Z got into. Obtaining a chance to study double degrees. One of them is i should proudly say, is Law. Which also means, big bucks in other languages.
Ignoring the middle child [will get back to that later], i move on the the 4th child, H. The 3rd daughter in the family is the one blessed with all the vocals. She sings better than any other members in the family. Melodiously, she flits from one person to the next, spreading her crazy laughter and always ready to share any clownish jokes of hers. Though, a little plain she may be. But her inner glow shone more than obvious, especially when she smiles. No, sing.
Coming to the last production from mommy and daddy, and the most prettiest member of the family, W. Blessed with bother a substantial looks and brain, she was the one who caught everyone’s heart and the one most protected amongst the siblings. Her twinkly eyes speaks innocence yet, her brain works faster than a normal 10 year old do. She was the one who i believe, more than an apple in the mommy’s eyes. I guess, it was more of a diamond in fact. But never mind, you get my drift.
Before coming to the middle child, i should perhaps mention a little about mommy and daddy. Daddy is the breadwinner and the saint in the family. Mommy was more of demanding yet has her own version of sweetness. Both weren’t model parents, but they were loved dearly by all members in the family.
And finally, the one that is not mention above, is the middle child. G is a person who rebel and much much beyond mommy’s perfect daughter. Not really pretty, nor really clever, she is actually a normal youth, loves to dress up, loves to listen to music. She was also a person who loves a whole load of freedom and doesn’t hesitate to declare war just because she thinks she is right. She is crude, straight-forward and particularly unfortunately blessed with mommy’s temper.
And she is, coincidently the lead in this little story that i am going on about.
Naturally, both mommy and daddy were more of exasperated by G’s behavior. There were scenarios and occasions where G brought more than just failures in studies and inappropriate behavior. The mystery behind the stark difference in intellect compared to the other two elder were puzzling but quickly rectified by hiring tutors. The only thing that she believed to do right was to play the piano and to draw. Not good enough to be special though. But good enough to be heard and seen.
As i mentioned above, both G and mommy had a infamous tempers, which often leads to clashes of the titans. Mommy says no, G demands yes. Then slowly, with the many frequent titans war, G begins to seek outside security, and determined to be independent. She works part-time and often go out to have fun, coming home at times beyond mommy’s approval. But she did that for a reason, for avoiding more clashes with mommy. So that less talk will be between knowing that with more communications, instead of harmony, more conflict would occur. Daddy was unable to understand her actions, but knows that mommy has let favoritism played in too much of her opinion in G. He silently tried to played the medium yet unable to do much.
So G continued in her frequent late nights. Until mommy opened a long forgotten dairy, and found out something that made her angry beyond the hells of mommy world.
As the ground rules of mommy world speaks, curfews and constant kept tabs on were on the ultimate mode. And G at this point felt unbearable of such life. She could not take it and though admittably in wrong, was arguably not in the full wrong. Yes, the actions were without excuse. But opening the diary? Intruding the privacy? Those were wrong too. But those facts were unheard. In mommy world, mommy is always right.
So G became very unhappy. She wanted back her own life. The one that didn’t much involved nurturing family ties. But at least she was carefree. Furthermore, she didn’t especially like being yelled at everyday in demand for her whereabouts.
So acting what she thought was best, she rebelled. Again. She didn’t answer any of mommy’s call when the calls comes relentlessly. Knowing that by doing this would just sour the relationship, she didn’t care. She just wanted mommy to back off and leave her alone.
Meanwhile, mommy was infuriated by daughter G’s defiance and disobedience. Never really keen to the talk-to-her-nicely method, she resorted to screaming and demanding answers instead of just a polite “where are you?”. In fact, when things get so out of hand, violence is perhaps the quick resort she seek for.
And as each day passed, it was no wonder, the mother and daughter relationship with G somehow evaporated to the minimum.
Mommy just did her duties, and accomplished her responsibilities, the motherly love shown, but all to the line. That minimal line that didn’t go to that she allowed for the other 4 children to go. G was the least favorite, the one who comes after everyone else.
So the life went on and on, just like that, both without the urge to toe the line and make things better.
Sometimes, G sees mommy treating the other siblings visibly better, she feels a pang of sadness on how things are. Yet on other times when mommy starts her verbal nagging and scolding, it becomes the other way. But i guess most of the time, there is more of sadness, hurt and maybe a bit of jealousy involved.
Maybe one day,one day everything will change. Maybe, mommy might learn to equally share her love and enhance her fairness trait. Maybe one day, G and A will get a better sisterly relationship. [which is most probably impossible]. Maybe, G will get successful without the need to excel in studies. Maybe….
By this time, maybe you might have an idea who this G is. Whatever it is, this is just a post.
Another birth of gracesoh’s blog
It’s kinda long how i came upon this decision to open an wordpress account. But since in here, post can be individually passworded, the fingers just started having a life of themselves and started this blog.
So now i rub them together gleefully, knowing i can type out all my criticisms, insults and whatever unsightly here, with only specially handpicked people to view it.
This specially handpicked people of course will share my views and hostile side.
The rest, can just continue shalala-ing on what an angel i am. Though i definitely agree i am one at normal terms.
Oooo.. i just love this!!! I love encrypted messages. I suddenly feel so Da Vinci-ish to start my own version of Fibonacci’s sequence or my own form of anagrams to use as passwords.
*evil laughter!*
For those who wish to be one of my “specially-handpicked” people to view highly comical yet insulting files, do not hesitate to bribe me.
Of course, terms and conditions people.
Well, ciaoz then. I am off to plan the start of my evil posts.
