Firstly, some ranting.

'Chemistry. Generally thought of by students as the scientific way to attain the effect of canned soup in a microwave. Or simplified- 'watery explosions with style'.
With such a title, what surprise is it that it's giving me such a big headache? A deceptively simple criterion- A powerpoint on atoms. Based on a book claiming to give a brief history on seemingly "everything". Which is incidentally, a literary novel.'

Okay, I'm done now. Just in case you were wondering, that short paragraph was dedicated to the reason why I didn't start a blog. Yes, the fact that almost everyone who knows me on a 'close-but-not-close-enough' level has asked me the reason why I had even started this blog. That is, taking into consideration that I don't 'seem the sort' to even bother writing one, as well as the fact that I am not prone to doing certain actions due to influence from a vast majority of the world doing the same. Well, the answer is simple, and is demonstrated very frequently in school.

I have a terrible memory. It can be described as a sieve, a book with no pages, or simply, a big tunnel whereby entire trains could pass through without so much as leaving even a trace that they had been there. I am perfectly capable of forgetting what I was previously sasying, and stop suddenly in my tracks, look dazed and disoriented, before asking some random stranger "What was I saying?"As I have said earlier, this really comes as a problem since I have to keep many ideas and perspectives in my mind at one time, especially during Philsophy, Language Arts and Social Studies lessons. (Which, incidentally, are my favourite subjects.)

So I thought I could write all of these vague, drifting thoughts of mine so as to record the current, and perhaps limited, perception and ideas at that point of time. As well as taking into consideration the emotion and knowledge (or lack thereof) I was experiencing at the time, and analyze the text at a later period, to avoid biased information. These reports would also serve as points to debate intrinsically at a later date, to compare and contrast information and ideas that I may have formed or developed between the two dates. As well as to link ideas together, regardless of similar or different they may be to get a clearer, more solid idea of the said issue.

The first attempt at this endeavour failed. I had recorded my thoughts in a not-so-handy notebook. Unfortunately, I still have a bad memory and lost the notebook, thus wasting my brain cells, time, and $1.00 .(for the notebook) I then tried to save it on my computer, a sleek silver pentium notebook. However, I had forgotten where I had kept the files, not to mention the fact that that I had accidentally deleted the entire folder, and emptied my 'Recycle Bin'. Thus effectively wasting some more time and electricity.

Determined, I mulled over the matter, and decided I needed something, maybe even someone, to store all these information. I soon eradicated the thought of 'someone' filling this crucial role, seeing as the only two people I know and trust to listen to such thoughts are not the best substitute for an informational entry. Primary reasons being that one has an equally bad, if not worse memory. Seeing as he has to record how many meals he had eaten, times he showered and whatnot on a particular day, so as not to repeat it. As for the other one, well. Let's just say she's no longer here, and I cannot afford too many trips to Mandai Crematorium.

That previous paragraph leaves only an inanimate object to cover up for my lack of the prefrontal cortex. This item must be easily accessible and editable, able to withstand long hours of usage, resistant against the scars of time, user-friendly and not to mention being able to not be totally wiped out from my knowledge of existence easily.

As you can guess, Blogger made it past all of these little checkpoints, and emerged victorious, although it was about the only one in the race. Of course, the posts you see here are but a measly fraction of everything I have ever written on Blogger, since most would probably land me in serious trouble at school (No. I am not a racist). And those posts are the ones that you, as a reader, will never need to see. So there, that's the little reason behind li-qingyi.blogspot.com's existence.

Here are just some of the lines I've heard and seen (in emails and the like) so far, and my replies to them, seeing as I obviously have (and want) nothing to blog about.

"Hey buddy, wanna buy some insurance lest you get run down?" - Lawrence
Reply: " By the cars on the road, or you when I reject?"

"Wow, that meal was filling. I'm stuffed! Would you like cake for dessert?" - Mrs Koshi
Reply: "Why not? I love throwing-up and digestive back-flow."

"I will rise up to the challenges of biology. I will spawn mutant piranhas in the S-bend!" -J.J.
Silent Reply: "Need I even say anything?"

"I'm calling from OrangeTee to inform you that we can help you rent your house out." -Agent?
Reply: "Thanks for the offer of a lifetime, but begging on the street just doesn't speak to me."

"Wow. School's almost starting and I'm not even remotely prepared." - Hachiro
Reply: "Don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things."

"I wonder why you have to use the safety belt. The maximum speed is only 12km/h."- Sharon
Reply: "Buckle up anyway. It makes it harder for the aliens to suck you out of the car."

"If you ever drive, what personalized bumper sticker would you use?"- J.J.
Reply: "If you can read this, I can stop suddenly and sue you."

"What do you have to say for yourself, seeing as it's a proven fact the women can't drive?"- J.J.
Reply: "If you don't like my driving, stay off the sidewalk."

"Why torture the Christians with your prescence?"-My father
Reply: "Anything worth taking seriously is worth making fun of."

"You really did not have to walk into a Church and insult the Cross. Loudly." -WenYing
Reply: "Belief is blind. And only the blind believe."

I do not usually post about my life unless there is something of remote interest, and this is an exception. It is about my life and its boring. -

These four weeks that I have spent with my host have been 'uncomfortable'. I do not mean the hospitality of my host's mother, but rather the excess of it. She seems to fulfil the role of the typical caring mother I never had. Yet her genuine kindness leads me to dread her disappointment. A emotion which my own mother does and does not experience, in the sense that my mother is disappointed in me as a person, but not so since she has no expectations of me. My host's mother, Mrs. Koshi, is so effable yet I simply can't seem to feel any gratitude which once again makes me want to feel guilty, and yet I do not. It is almost as if I were living through my grandmother's death once more. And Mr. Koshi reminds me of my own parents, though my hot has mentioned that he did not used to be so. It only occured after he started his own business.

Aside from that, Mrs. Koshi has been organizing trips for her son and myself, much to our disappointment. She would drop us off at the destination at 8 or 9 in the morning, and return to pick us up at 8 in the evening. I really loathed those days when we were to go to any and every single tourist attraction, such as the Bird Park, Zoological Gardens and the Esplanade (which I have already seen to much of). Here is a quick recap of some of the events.

Bird Park- We started off badly by my host almost trudging straight into the flamingo pond since he was still sleepy, then we walked aimless around the entire place at least 3 times before we thought it was a waste of Mrs. Koshi's money if we just stood there. So we somehow managed to walk straight into the Lory Aviary, where we saw tourists paying $2 for a cup of sugar and water to feed the birds. However, these birds are very bold (as a trait of their species) and flocked to the closest sugar scource, since they feed on nectar. Most of them were attacked by these birds though they seem to enjoy it. A bird then flew down next to us and clicked its beak expectantly before being batted away by my friend. The bird then had its revenge by swooping down and squacking at him causing him to swear, thus deserving him several astonished looks from the crowd. Then the wild chickens in the Waterfall Aviary chased us because we had almost stepped on their young, before being pushed away by our legs earning us an earful from the keepers there.

Zoological Gardens- Just to sum it all up in a phrase, "mammal magnetism". Oh, and did I mention that fish hate me? Monkeys, on the other hand, they like my friend a lot. Maybe a tad too much. Here's a short and translated excerpt from our dialogue:
Me: "It's not the water that I hate. It's what's in the water. "
Him: *Quizzical and dubious expression*
Me: "Fish hate me, though the feeling is mutual."
Him: "That's ridiculous. Fish hardly have brains. Not to mention animosity against you."
Me: "Big fish, small fish, they all have it in for me."
Him: "Yes. I'm sure."
Me: " I don't know why they hate me so much. I have never wronged a fish. I hardly eat it."

Esplanade Concert, City Link and Raffles City- We were supposed to be shopping at Raffles City and City Link, but instead ended up sitting in the Esplanade staring at each other, not knowing what to do. At the concert, I ended up giving my jacket to him seeing as he was shivering. During the intermission, he literally ran out of the Esplanade to 'thaw', much to my amusement.

Gardens Festival- The only thing interesting about this was that I learned that I am no longer allergic to flower pollen, probably due to over-exposure ever since I moved to a private estate with a garden. Same old, same old. My friend could not withstand the temperature, which was set so as to prolong the life of the cut flowers which were mostly shipped from temperate climates. That night, my friend was very slightly ill. It was then that I had realized that never once have I ever seen him sick, though I have known him even before either of us had even started school. A part of me was bewildered at this new sight, while the another wanted to laugh at his red nose, which was extremely prominent against his pale face.

Sentosa- This experience was just plain queer. When we went up the Merlion, the guides there gave each of us a coin, to be inserted into the mouths of the Mercubs so as to attain a ticket, which will be exchanged for a prize. But before that could happen, this obnoxious middle-aged, morbidly obese man gased up the entire chamber before bumping into the two of us. Angered, my friend threw his coin at the man, and it hit his left eye at the other end of the room. (So all that basketball did pay off) This, obviously, cause him to start rampage and almost squashed me if it hadn't been for my friend who pulled me away in time. The situation was chaotic.

Mandai Crematorium and the Lee family's private cemetery- Our final destination for the holidays, and the one which I had enjoyed the most, since I picked it. This place is quiet and serene, not to mention that my grandmother's niche is located there. We walked around the place for a while after going to clean my grandmother's niche, and for once we were actually talking to each other cheerfully. And we actually laughed, which is rare, since most of our conversations are usually interrupted. We then left for the cemetery at half past four, and I opened the gate there with the special key. This is where most, if not all, of the deceased members of my paternal family is buried, or have their remains kept. It is a quiet courtyard, though unlike a church. But also lacks the suffocating incense of Buddhist and Taoist temples. We sat on the greener pastures and watered the wilting grass there, as well as the trees. We dusted the graveyard soil off the headstones and cleaned the cases which sealed the urns. It was relaxing for once, and it is fantastic to be away from other people at times. We spoke to each other about death, and for once even toyed with the idea that heaven actually existed. Which we ended up laughing silently about the idea. The only drawback of the day was the fact that Mrs. Koshi insisted that the both of us take a half-hour long shower so as to get rid of the 'stench of graveyard soil'.

Warning: Due to this immensely dense shroud of boredom, I have connived with the Inner Demons to present this extremely randomized post. Ladies and Gentlemen alike are warned to avert their eyes to prevent this terrible disease from spreading, and cultivating within your minds. With all that said and done, enjoy.


1. Firstly, I'd just thought I'd inform all of 'You' that I've been promoted. To the lofty position of 'Chairman of the Bored'. 'COB' for short, which is appropriate, since I'm practically covered in cobswebs due to lack of movement. Ah, bliss of the sedentary. In fact, I've actually willed myself to watch some idiot classmate of my host play a platformer on the Playstation 2 video game console for approximately 20 minutes. Without a coffee-break. (This is where you gasp in disbelief) It features an ugly caveboy running around in a loincloth who has a striking face. But the question is, who's been striking it? (Although the weapon used was most certainly a golfclub.)

Anyway, the objective of the game is to run, jump and bash some non-descript bad-guys. When you're done with that, you can run, jump and beat up some more non-descript bad-guys. But the special part is, you'll adventure through every level searching for trinkets to complete objectives, one of which is to find and bring a talisman to a shrine to call upon the Powers of the Divine. And, if you're lucky, and they're in a good mood and the fengshui is peaked as well, they'll let you collect stuff for them. Namely, pets. Pets veering on the side of monstrosity, such as a pirahna, a sheep, and a ride-able rhinoceroes and an emu.
Do you see the recurring pattern? Run, jump, whack and collect.

2. Have you ever stopped a particular fashionista just to say :
"Have you noticed the strange trends of fashion? I mean to say, we started out as cavemen wearing close to nothing, then inflated to a point during the Victorian Era, when people robed themselves in so many layers that they were in constant danger of suffering a heatstroke? Now, it is not so uncommon to see people in certain regions of the globe 'skinny dipping'."

3. Thursday- A very memorable event shall plague this day, as Nostril-damus celebrates his 503 birthday from his grave. The man who had purportedly foreseen the rising of an insignificant monk to the position of Pope, the reign of Hitler's terror, the atomic bomb. Perhaps even the death of John F. Kennedy Jr, and the most recently applicable, the destruction of the Twin Towers of New York. All of which were written in poetic, but cryptic quatrains. In total, Nostradamus wrote 942 quatrains, which he organized into centuries.
Yeah right. The future is non-existent until we write it at the exact moment.

4. Finally, here's an infamous question I was subjected to recently:

Q. HAVE YOU EVER THROWN TEA AT ANYBODY?
A. Only at cold to lukewarm temperatures, to avoid lawsuits. I also yell, "TEA INCOMING" prior to all (and any) tea-throwings, as a result of the 'Incident of 1357'.
*60 moments of silence*

'Your Not-So-Friendly Neighbourhood Lawyer' says:
'Don't throw tea at people. Especially in America.'

My friend's mother, Mrs Koshi, is extremely interested in my family history. She actually drove me halfway across the island to my home just so that I could get my family photo album. (Yes, all the photographs fit into just one tiny album.)

When we arrived back at her home, she took her pile of albums stacked them neatly into a column and started comparing our photographs. Cruel hilarity ensues.

The first photograph shows my mother ripping flowers out of the lawn because she thought the flowers were ugly. Which was a stark contrast to my host's photograph of her husband presenting her with a bouquet of 99 red roses on the night of their wedding anniversary.

The second shows me as a young girl, fresh from moving into my then-new home at Bukit Timah, clawing violently at the television set simply because I was forced to watch Barney the purple dinosaur serenade children with his infamous rendition of 'I Love You' with other children of my age at a community library, most of whom were crying. The very next one shows one of their mothers screaming at my own to "GET THAT DEMONIC CHILD OF YOURS AWAY FROM US NORMAL PEOPLE." Yes that moment still burns in my mind after so many years.
Which was a strange comparision to my friend and host swimming and playing with his (presumably) friends, while another depicts hims at his classmate's birthday party. Albeit with a trace of reluctancy, according to his mother.

A third photograph, which was taken by a neighbour's child, depicts me as someone probably about 7 or 8 years of age. Walking home from school in the rain, totally drenched. And schoolmates on a passing school-bus laughing and pointing at me from their dry environment. While my host brandishes a photograph of her son just before his first day of Elementary school. (in his country)

There are a few more uneventful ones, so I shall skip to a final and randomly selected example, in which I killed a clone of Barbie which one of my parent's business clients from the United States sent me. I mauled her, stabbed a hole right into her face with a blade, and generally split her at every crotch. At this point, my host's mother asks me what was going through my mind at the time. My only reply was,
"Why wasn't there any blood?"

~Ah, nostalgia.

Sherri is absolutely right. Life stagnates, grows mouldy, then decays like the left overs at the back of the refrigerator. It attracts bugs, crumbles, mutates, and then it... Well, we'll leave it at that. My point is, boredom does strange things to you.

At the moment, I can't believe my wonderous powers of procastination. I have yet to start on homework, and I refuse to practice for my musical performances. I have to admit. I annoy myself with my antics sometimes.

Alas, the beginning of the new school year is once again nibbling on my tail. And has begun to take big chomps too. I guess I don't mind the waking up, and the homework and what-not nearly as much as I detest having to face 26 other pre-adolescents who are so wrapped up in their own world of cliques, phony pledges of everlasting friendship, 'music' which falls short of any melody. Equally annoying are the people who 'sSpEll lEikk diis'.

During the holidays, one of my visiting friend's classmates has called me 'cold-blooded' and rendered 'incapable of loving' very recently. I do not take these statements as insults, but rather as causes to reflect upon the true meaning of this overrated 'Love'.

There are those strange lines which almost everyone uses too often. Lines which usually have something to do with love and relationships. Lines like 'Dear Santa, I hope he fits in the bag' and 'All she wanted was for his eyes to follow her'. What is it about this so-called 'Love' that teenagers are so facinated with? If the definition can be found in those two lines which I have copied from a site, then I'm afraid I'll just have to call in the alarmclock we know as Reality.

Let's face it.
A crush is an initial burst of pheromones followed by a reluctancy to part with an being of such sentimental value, having weathered time with an individual, that the feeling may be known as affection.
Other than that, a crush is still a crush. Love cannot be without the enduring trials of time. That would be known as 'Superficial Love', which I believe is a contradiction in terms. Love that cannot, or even actively refuses to look past appearances. Which is why teenage girls are particularly susceptible to falling for their false idols. The singers who cannot sing. The actors who cannot speak fluently, not to mention act.

Some religions even preach that 'Love', among many other things such as a 'soul', is reserved exclusively for humans, or anthromorphic beings. Such arrogance is pitiful. Humans are no different from wild animals. The more humans believe that they are different, the lower they fall into the 'Beast' category, should the usual definition of the term be used. The very one which humans describe other animals as- Wild, savage and where survival of oneself is of utmost importance.
Of course, 'Humans' as a term is extremely general. Either way, I still do not understand the flush of pheromones teenagers call 'Love'.(Please stop calling me Goth. I despise stereotyping.)

And to my dearest friend- "A toast to your great achievements. Now, do we have any butter?"

Li QingYi's Property Rules

To avoid arguments and disputes in the up-coming year of 2007, please abide by the next ten rules.

1. If I like it, it's mine.
2. If it's in my hand, it's mine.
3. If I can take it from you, it's mine.
4. If I had it a little while back, it's still mine.
5. If, and when, something is mine, it must never appear to be yours in anyway.
6. If I'm chewing and/or ripping something, all the pieces are mine.
7. If it looks like mine, it is mine.
8. If I saw it first, it is mine for the taking.
9. If you have something I want and set it down, it automatically becomes mine.
10. If it is broken, it's yours.


-Thank you for making your past minute mine,
Li-QingYi