uncampable! haha.

CCAL camp was a rush, of mud and rain and seawater and stick-like things. I think I shall not recount the happenings, so as to allow epic verbal recountage, but it was very, very fun.

Group D3, you guys made the experience possible. I think we sort of clicked earlier on, and we just drove each other with humongous enthusiasm. If there's one quality i respect more than any other it's enthusiasm - not bubbly haha enthusiasm but seriously putting your entire being into the one thing you love. That's enthusiasm, and we all somehow know that.

Having been through a number of camps/similar programs I'm actually quite cynical about the whole 'team spirit' thing. I don't believe that people somehow magically click and work together as a team without months if not years of knowing each other.

So. I won't say we'll be wonderful friends. I won't say we'll never forget each other. I say we might, but for group D3 my cynicism was tempered with a lot of respect for you all. It was a good 4 days, we cheered and we achieved, but the journey starts now I guess. We WILL keep in contact, and at the end of this year at least I hope to call you all friends.

Verbose thanks are directed at QM James Lee, who is an inspiration to me, and i have immense respect for. Thank you for the letter. You embody all the qualities of leadership that we were supposed to learn in camp, and I know you're a much better person than I'll ever be. I suspect I'll eventually fumble my way through with Jazz Club, but you'll succeed whatever it is you're doing.

For the last time maybe, D3 power! Will see you all in school... for now it's back to the jazz.
adam

the holidays are here

School ended just in time, I was starting to lose control of everything already. Responsibility is such a screwed up word. I've got to keep up appearances to everyone else to keep doing the job that I love. Not that it's necessarily a bad thing... but it just sucks.

Last few days of school were a desperate stretch to make it to the safety of holidays. I scraped through, skipping lessons and rushing homework. Now everything's in a mess. CCAL camp from 26th to 30th, then some performances.

I think i'd better start cleaning up.

adam

I'm turning 17 tomorrow. I'm anticipating a little more love than last year (hope it goes well) but i guess i shouldn't ruin it with too much expectation. There are so many things I want and can't have, and so many things I have and don't need. I think though, that this year I shall just be happy. I shall call it a birthday present, and no-one will know any better, least of all myself.

This year I vow not to play it safe, to do too many things and make more mistakes than I’ve ever made in my life.

100 words

- adam, who is 2 hours and 29 minutes short of officially being 17.

Little Wing

Well she’s walking through the clouds
With a circus mind that’s running round
Butterflies and zebras
And moonbeams and fairy tales
That’s all she ever thinks about
Riding with the wind.

When I’m sad, she comes to me
With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free
It’s alright she says it’s alright
Take anything you want from me, anything
Anything.

Fly on little wing,
Yeah yeah, yeah, little wing

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This one's another hendrix tune. I've heard 3 different versions (SRV and ZZtop, Clapton and Sheryl Crow, Satriani and Vai) and they're all amazing. They sound completely different, but the beauty of hendrix's songwriting still gets through.

I really can't say much. It just hit me so hard - this is why I play guitar. I could cry playing this, i really wish I could.

adam

Mornings. Hazy, dusty mornings in the dun-hued sunlight; these are the essence of life. Not Nights- nights are dark and angst-filled. Evenings are just pretentious.

Mornings are real and gritty and sleepy-eyed, intruding on your comfortable sleep, nagging like a mother. You can feel the sandy air in your lungs, the last dreams escaping from beneath eyelids. The clumsy, bleary-eyed first steps.

The shower shocks; and then it's railings, staring out at the sun and the buildings. It is a quiet brightness, raw and unmitigated. Smiling at the sun and the dust, I turn away.

100 words

adam

It seems that now everyone's angsting about their lost secondary school days. Various blog entries, conversations and even a chinese model essay (!) serve as evidence.

I don't get it, am I missing something?
Was I asleep, comatose or incapacitated for a good 4 years while time flickered by?

I have no memories of secondary school life. No nostalgia. Ms Kuang told me in sec 3 that i'd grow to love my class by the time graduation came. I never did stop despising them. I'm sorry Ms Kuang. Nothing about any of my CCAs struck me as particularly engaging. Bowling- i quit out of boredom after 2 years. String ensemble- I was a second-rate violinist anyway, and I didn't feel connected to the performance the way some did. Debate- I never got anywhere. JGs RI team 2 was great, but we were team-mates and that was pretty much it. Half the team was juniors, and I don't meet them anymore.

I never found the joy of shared experience because I was angry at everybody.

I told myself i'd give a new start in JC. I did - no-one else did. Like dissolves like, and the rest float and linger.

I'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry.
Now I'm stuck between people and the afterimages of others' remembered past.


-adam