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Category Archives: Procrastination

it’s scary

when you don’t feel anything anymore. i don’t feel anything anymore and it scares the crap out of me. no, i’m not some despondent kid who’s doing this for attention.

i had a fight with my dad a few moments ago about college stuff. i asked if i could take a gap year. seeing as how the chinese language has no vocabulary for ‘gap year’, i couldn’t really fully explain what it is, so i tried the best i could by saying how i would do internships and job shadowings. he took it as me wanting to not go to college and drop out and go work. what. then he accuses me of not being a good taiwanese because i can’t speak my own language. what.

anyways, i got mad because he ignored what i was there to ask in the first place. i asked him to choose a career path for me because he’s dictating everything else in the college process. he’s choosing how much we’re paying the colleges and which colleges i can and cannot apply to. heck, why not go ahead and choose my career path since i’ve no idea what i want to do anyways (hence why i want to take a gap year). he, of course, blew up in my face and we got into another yelling match. guess what he got from the whole conversation? he thinks im pressuring him and now he says he’s going to “push back harder to see who is more stubborn than the other”. did i mention: WHAT.??

and get this. being the typical asian parent he is, he thinks liberal arts colleges are crappy. he thinks i shouldn’t apply to them. he thinks i should apply to good schools. i told him i didn’t want to. he says i’m just too chicken to apply. HOLD ON. i never said i’m too chicken to apply there. i just don’t see myself at certain schools. however, i AM applying to a few good schools.

anyways. back to the cold, heartless me situation. i don’t feel motivation anymore. i used to be a nerd. now i’m procrastinating the heck out of all my schoolwork because i don’t see the point anymore. i have no ambitions. i have no dreams. i have nothing. i don’t even feel anything when i envision not going to college (something my dad also threatened me with). what has become of me?


Image of the day: sexy


Image of the day: summer’s over


Because it’s Freddie


Queen. Freddie Mercury. Oh yeah.



3 ways to tell that you’re sleep deprived because of IB

“Apparently sleep is optional for teenagers” said a friend of mine. I agree completely. Apparently sleep is a rare nugget that is difficult to come by for IB students. The following are 3 ways you might identify with because you are a very sleep deprived victim of IB


1. You develop a completely different biological clock for the weekends.

During the weekends, you wake up in the PM because of the hours of sleep IB deprived you of during the week. Then, as a result of waking up so late into the day, your body forces you to stay well awake into the AM. Thus, by the time Monday rolls around, you’re screwed because you end up going to sleep late and waking up early. During the week, you slip back into going to sleep in the early morning, due to your massive amount of homework, and prying yourself from the bed (though we all know your mom does this), and trudging to school. The cycle then repeats throughout each week. You subsequently slip into a vicious circle of sleep debt caused by the IB Monster.


2. You don’t get work done during free periods.

According to my school, free periods are blocks during which students drive themselves academically by doing independent work. This is complete and utter cow cookie. Despite completely floundering in sleep debt and having piling mounds of work, you opt to spend your free periods socializing with your other IB friends (because these are the only friends you’ll have as another tragic result of the IB Monster’s reign of terror), gaming, or perhaps blogging (ahem, ahem). Oh yeah, the hours spent not thinking about, and possibly suppressing your memories, your IA or EE because you’re in denial comes back to bite you in the arse sooner or later.


3. You understand this word completely: caffeine. 

The word caffeine means the world to you. It saves you from going from class to class and being completely dead to the world. Caffeine comes in many forms: tea, soda, and most importantly, coffee. COFFEE. By the time your IB career is over (hahahahaha), you’ll drink twice your weight in coffee.

Coffeemakesyoutalklikethisforafewhoursoncethecaffeinehighstartstokickin                        andeverythignstartsslowingdownormaybeyourethespeed  ingupidkthis  sentencedoesntmakesenseatallandthenafter a few       hours things      start to                                                                  seem   like this       and  before                you             know           it,                                   you                                                     jussst                                            craaaaaassshhh.

Not only does IB “encourage a world perspective, allow you to develop critical thinking skills, and instill a lifelong love for learning”, it apparently also fuels caffeine-addicted IB graduates.  Thank you, IB Monster.




Image of the day: The dangers of words

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source: the oatmeal

‘Link s-crew-ed’

As a result of procrastination over the summer. I am now feeling the danger of the IB monster creeping in.
Today I was just at school for the Freshmen Orientation since I’m on the Link Crew and had to lead the activities. But godamit. For some reasons I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately, but last night I just dropped dead the moment I got home. No shower, no nothing. Got to school an hour and a half later than I should have.

Tomorrow: first day of the last year. last first day. first day as a senior. all these ‘firsts and lasts’ are getting me all anxious. Being on Link Crew to help the kids but I really am just Link S-crew-ed. (:
One good thing I liked about the training today was the end. Not because it ended, but because of the poem our high school principal gave us:

The Bridge Builder

An old man, going a lone highway,
Came at the evening cold and gray,
To a chasm, vast and deep and wide,
Through which was flowing a sullen tide.
The old man crossed in the twilight dim-
That sullen stream had no fears for him;
But he turned, when he reached the other side,
And build a bridge to span the tide.

“Old man,” said a fellow pilgrim near,
“You are wasting strength in building here.
Your journey will end with the ending day;
You never again must pass this way.
You have crossed the chasm deep and wide,
Why build you the bridge at the eventide?”

The builder lifted his old gray head.
“Good friend, in the path I have come,” he said,
“There followeth after me today
A youth whose feet must pass this way.
This chasm that has been naught to me
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be.
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building the bridge for him.”


That’s how I feel…or felt? Not just about Link Crew, but anybody. And the reason I put a question there is because I know I want to do that. But I don’t feel so motivated at the moment.
I’m wondering why I start to fall in love with almost everything that I do.
Busy trying to leave behind a legacy, building bridges and personal relationships.
But at the same time, I crave for that late night silence. And while having trouble sleeping the other night,

Insomnia or delirium?

Late night hours, or simply early morning, long ante meridian?
Serenity, or simply idleness?
Inner peace, or simply delirious?

I sit there in the old wooden chair,
in my grandpa’s room, at 4 am while he’s on a trip to upcountry.
Watching and following the ants’ train down his room’s wall.
Has this too, been his midnight hours companion?
only with his back turned, eyes closed, mind at rest.
Half mesmerized, half already a blur,
pondering about those antsy kisses they give each other,
at every rendezvous.
One comes out from the hole closer to the floor,
another one comes out the hole under the light switch.
Along the electric chord, they marched alone.
A colony not so crowded, I suppose.
Do they feel as lonesome as I do now?
When all the world is quiet,
all its creatures dreaming.
Except the insomniac me and the hard working little ants.
Except for a few motorbikes that seem to be riding itself,
grunting because they own the sleeping street.
For who would be up at this hour except for me?
Oh it could not be.
For these four walls tell me I am the only one.
These four white walls…
They tell me I am alone.

Not much is left now as the clock is ticking away each second and tomorrow is stealing all my time.
I am lost. Too anxious of what is coming to actually face it when it is coming. And here tonight, I search for myself.