The basis of a desire in the path of Medicine

11 weeks. That's the amount of time since I sold my hair, my blitheful lifestyle and, most probably, my soul as well to the government for a monthly payment of $480 (Well technically it's $780 as of now but why would you care about how much money I get?) .

So what's going on in my life now? For a first, I'm now undergoing my vocational training phase as a weapon man - we ensure you know how to point your weapon so you don't do favours for the enemy. Just imagine, running through mud, blood, flesh and basically a mosh pit of hell, you've finally cornered your enemy. Walking up to the helpless praying bambi that was gunning down your buddies a few seconds ago, you put on your shades to have the perfect Arnold Schwarzenegger moment...BANG...you shoot yourself in the head because no one ever taught you where the weapon shoots out from. See our importance now?

Moving on, I've also been accepted into the NTU school of biological science along with the college scholarship. why the choice in this course you may ask, and truthfully, I'm not so sure. for a long time now, I've considered being a doctor to be one of my biggest life goals (there are of course many other life goals, for example, to find a girlfriend, hopefully, before I turn 40). However, thanks to my sub-par results, I may not stand a good chance against the other applicants. Leaving me with two options: Ignore the odds. Or, consider the alternative pathways. That is, biological sciences. Of course, alternative routes are usually scary and un-advised. Just ask Red Riding Hood if you don't believe me, but then again, asking someone else, is also an alternate route to coming to the same conclusion that I am right. My point is, the tempting offer of biological sciences and the scholarship offered puts me in a dilemma between that, and trying to get into medicine school where I stand a better chance at becoming a doctor. Recommendations?

In any case, the brighter ones would probably realise that I haven't reached the main topic of this post (If you're wondering what's the main topic of this post, well, I have some news for you...). You smart people would also probably be able to score straight As and be accepted into a medicine school without any dilemmas. God damn it you smart guy. But back to the subject matter: where does my interest in Medicine come from?

It all began about 3 years ago when I started watching one of the best TV series ever produced: House. I recommend all of you to watch it... Just as long as you don't get influenced to want to become a doctor and end up competing with me for slots in Medicine.. you know, on a second thought, don't watch it. Anyway, Hugh Laurie aka Gregory House perfectly captured the essence of how I (and probably many others would like to live life; a badass anarchist, smart and respected. Not that these traits had anything to do with me wanted to be a doctor, but it is, about how House manages to help his patients in ways more than their health despite his unorthodox ways. On to my next point.

Money. Look, I'm not saying money is the key to  a happy life, but it is one of the many factors. Bring your attention to a graph illustrating the theory of financial happiness.

As people earn more money, they get more money to be more happy. Yes, millions of "mature" people say money doesn't buy you happiness, but money does buy you things like a trampoline, or a jet ski. Have you ever seen anyone look unhappy on a trampoline or a jet ski? However, as one gets richer, the marginal returns of happiness with increases in wealth dips lower, and lower. This is based on the experiences of many wealthy individuals, but really, do you think, you would be much happier having 50 million dollars instead of 40 million dollars? Having my first financial goal as to purchase my own house, there are only a few jobs that would help me achieve this fast. Of which; a doctor.

One more major reason for my desire would be the responsibilities of a doctor. I hate office work. In fact, I would put a career in business as my last option, right behind working as a.....I just don't want it okay? Firstly, a doctor is responsible for the comfort and health of his patients. I want to be able to make my patients, my family, the people I know, happy with how they feel everyday. Secondly, a doctor decides the treatment received by his patients, chemotherapy, steroid treatment, surgery, stem cell therapy? Whatever, I'm just bombing big medical terms to sound smarter. Basically, you decide the life and death of your patient via your intellectual decisions. Definitely not a pusillanimous job, but definitely challenging and stimulating. Lastly, like House, I would like to be a doctor able to change my patients' lives for the better, even after they recover from their infected penises, or whatever. Able to see where their illnesses came from, so we can avoid ever seeing them again; not in a horrific defunct manner you repugnant ass.

What is the purpose of a doctor? To heal, save, and better the lives of others. Exactly, that is what I want to do. Of course with having a happy life myself as well. Get a job you like, and you'll never work a day in life. Not only that, you'll also get immensely rich without working. Well, not immensely rich with the cost of living in Singapore rising faster than Moore's Law, but, rich enough to reach an optimal position according to the theory of financial happiness.

Now, if you are still wondering what the main topic of the post is, or the news I had for you earlier in this post. Man, do I have some news for you....

Every Singaporean Son

There comes a point in the life of every boy where the universe syncs with the rhythm of the cries of his heart and he transforms from a boy, into a man. For tribal boys in the Amazon, this metamorphosis comes after they are stung by an agonizing neuro-toxin that leaves them gasping for life at the end of the ordeal. Other tribal boys on the other hand treat their balls like phoenix-es sacrificing their balls by leaping off 30 metre towers with a few strands of vine being the barrier between life and the grim reapers's scythe; their balls will then be reborned into bigger, manly balls, that is, if they don't die.

Then on the other side of the table, western boys become men when they lose their virginity (So, yes, you can buy your manhood, you can beg for it, or YOU COULD DO IT THE MANLY WAY *INSERT MANLY ROAR HERE*). However, in places like Singapore where society is just a tangled mess of cultures, the mark of this transition is non-definite. Some still say its when you lose your virginity (if so there are probably tens of thousands full grown boys out there), others mark the transition by just partying at clubs...some perhaps circumcise themselves. But thanks to Jack Neo, we now popularize the notion that boys become men after their journey in National Service.

Sleep deprived, body aching, and psyching myself to get ready for the ordeal of booking in tonight, this is, my experience of the 14 days of "orientation week".

Day 1:
What lies ahead of me? What am I going to turn into? Is this 2 years really going to change me? Day 1 began with my relatives sending me off into camp, of course it really helps to be with your family when you're running late for a military appointment. So all went better than expected, first day food was underwhelming and so was the socializing. As said in my last post, as people transit between phases of their lives like going into NS, motivation fills their bodies resulting in many, many commanding tryhards with superiority complexes. I kept my mouth shut, kinda like many others too. Main challenge of the day was collecting our equipment provided, it was then I realized: You know NS is going to be tough when you have trouble merely carrying your field and duffel pack. By the way did I mention I don't look that bad bald?

Day 3:
I know, Day 3 doesn't come after Day 1, well ain't you a lil' smart ass. Well Day 2 was uneventful, full of lectures and shit. But technically, so was Day 3 except that it was ridden with warnings about how the NS adjustment period was ending tomorrow. What is an adjustment period, you may ask, just think of it somewhat like when you were two and you grew your first teeth to bite your mom's nipple, no one's gonna scold you for doing it, they just reward you with more milk, wew.

Day 4:
Psych for total annihilation, say goodbye to your arms, and banish your will to live into oblivion. What was left of hair on our scalps were raised in alarm to do our best not to get pumped by anyone, and anything said by anyone with symbols on their rank tag was like the moment before a fright in a horror film. Regardless, we took our first IPPT (I can't run, don't ask why) and ended the day, having done a mere 30 push ups, what a scare.

Day 5:
Perhaps the most inspiring moment every recruit will have before their ORD would be the rifle presenting ceremony. We were arranged in order of height...and I would say, if I was 20cm taller, I would have shook the hands of big shots...if I was taller. The parade was still inspiring after all, refilling all the tryhards with more temporal motivation, and I guess, it was needed, cos for the next few days, our rifles (or "wives") proceeded to screw us over (No euphemism intended).

Day 7:
Valentines day. Love is in the air. Hormones spewing. Testicles are going into overdrive and the sperms of us recruits are overflowing into our brains. I didn't get a desired response, but I don't regret what I did...
Anyway, have you heard of the saying that NS turns boys to men, but in the process it robs our intelligence leaving nothing but stupidity. NS doesn't rob our ability to think, the sleep deprivation that comes with NS does. Even during the time after lights out, I slowly feel my brain cells just dying in hope for a more sleep filled afterlife, and despite knowing this, my newly developed stupidity still compels me to deprive myself of more sleep by using my phone.

Day 10:
So begins our time at Nee Soon camp to finally shoot our wives (euphemism intended). This "camp" did go on for 3 days till day 12, but really, all that was required was one day for I hit my marksman criteria on the first day. Both inessential and detested, every day our highly packed field pack, helmets, battle vest and rifle worked in unison with Satan to pull our souls closer to the ground. Back and shoulders screaming mercy, and body spewing what ever moisture that was in our skins, we wondered how our 72 km road march would be like when the most we marched was probably only 2 km.

Day 14:
Guess what day it is? BOOK OUT DAY. I may not have been looking forward to coming home, or the food because the food at Pasir Ris camp, is, really darn good, but I did look forward to experiencing aircon, civilian clothing, and quite significantly, the freedom to cross my legs whenever I wanted. Our feelings were played with as instructors changed instructions that determined whether our bookout was going to be smooth or not; it was smoother than expected. However deep inside of me, I know it wouldn't be that easy in future, especially with my IPPT results.

On a side note though, there are certain things I remember vaguely without the respective dates they occurred on (Thanks to my dying brain). Like how the resident big shot boss in camp told us that we, chosen recruits, are the top 10% of our batch in terms of family history, personality, health and IQ (though perhaps not so much on that anymore). I took pride that my personality had traits of anti-establishment character (Yes, we are taught to be good, and proud of it).

Book in in less than 7 hours. Hello again regimentation.

Get your Chinese New Year priorities straight!

If my second experience at a club taught me anything, it would be that I forgot,the most fundamental rule of clubbing in my third post; ALWAYS BRING YOUR IC. Not that it would help save an exorbitant taxi fare for rushing back to your home and back to the club who's location you had painstakingly tracked down, but yes, it saves you an exorbitant taxi fare from rushing back and back again(If you get what I mean). Oh, and by the way, it also allows you to remain with your friends, ensuring that you are able to develop into the life of the party you planned to be.

The whole plan of going to Zouk on the 29th was to celebrate and ensure Glen has a (relatively) spectacularly carnal 19th birthday, mission was accomplished. But I'm pretty sure everyone was feeling that our missions for the night could have been over-achieved if we went to a club where mere walking didn't involve pressing your rapidly overheating body against sweat-drenched zombies at all 8 directions at any one time. Regardless, my point is, just, BRING YOUR IC.

Anyhow, in the stress-free periods between major transitions in our lives where we don't have anything to do, it seems to me that we measure time by noting when the next event in our lives is going to be. Glen's birthday is over, next is the Chinese New Year, and I ask you, huat ma?

I guess from many things I hear, Chinese New Year is a time about getting AngBaos, eating, and having gatherings with friends...oh yeah, and getting back in touch with distant relatives too, yeah..that. Once again, lets break Chinese New Year down into three aspects: Family, Gambling, Friends.  

Just follow your morals, you confused adolescent

Needless to say, from the time we entered the education system or even before that, we Singaporean youths have been taught that the true purpose of Chinese New Year is for families to catch up and "re-bond". (By families, I refer to whole generations and dynasties as in the olden Chinese times, and not America's nuclear family) Perhaps youths nowadays are faced with the dilemma whether to get a life and follow their friends or to be a good child and visit their mother's uncle's cousin's brother in law. Usually I would offer my opinion without exactly asserting it (Don't question me, I don't assert), but for this scenario, I strongly recommend that not only should you fulfil the true meaning of Chinese New Year, but also, do it wholeheartedly (That means, to socialize..Don't look so scared, they won't eat you up. Except that one auntie you see every year who takes the foundations of her make up to fairness that makes the snow of Mount Everest look like the night sky).

We all have that one relative that we really dread seeing. One of my distant relative repeats year after year, the story of me angrily staring at him when I was young, maybe, to get back at me, maybe, cos there's nothing better to talk about, I don't know. But no, I'm not standing for it again this year....I said socialize and catch-up with relatives wholeheartedly, not fake it and suck up to them. 

Cai Shen Ye: Omnipotent and worshipped
You're playing blackjack with your Aunt's third uncle's cousin with a liking for Chinese New Year goodies and the adrenaline rush from playing high stakes despite the financial state you think he might be in.War cries and blessings are hollered , he slowly exposes his cards (the strength of his voice seem to know no limits and while watching him pry two defenceless cards apart, you half-expect the SSTA to call and ask if there was any opportunity they could finally be doing something significant).  It's a pair of Ace. The room goes wild, the nuclear holocaust has begun as you watch a bunch of fifties being passed to him.

All is well, you are impressed, jealous perhaps, but then he bumps his fist on the closest shoulder in sight; you. With all the hype, he easily persuades you to raise your bet by ten folds. Cards are dealt, you close your eyes and start praying for the God of Fortune to bless you....NOW JUST WAIT A MOMENT...you're not a Buddhist?! Neither are you remotely religious, are you, spontaneously accepting Buddhism into your life?? Regardless, you look up and pray, prying your chest, eyes and cards apart...You lost 10 bucks. Are you, a loser with a good or bad personality?

Did my duty to my family, collected my Angbaos, what do I do next?
The one thing that you have had on your mind since Day 1 of course, a gathering and visitation crew with your closest friends. Little needs to be said about the vast differences between various cliques, some like to party, leaving less time for the amassing of highly sought-after Red Packets while the others, just want more money for the very social pressure that richer, is cooler. Whatever it is, do what you have to do, you'll definitely want to have a gang of people to invite to your house in future when the education systems leaves you at the mercy of the "free" Singaporean world.



So, that's the description cum commentary of my Chinese New Year, I may not offer any angbaos, but my house is open to all who know me on any of the 8 days before I enlist into commando camp on the 7th Feb. 

The essence of a perfect woman

I'd like to introduce a new concept: The theory of infatuations in relation to age.

Check that graph out, not only did I take more effort than I care to admit to make it, it's also the first picture of my blog. Anyway, this is my theory about how easily someone will get infatuated with a girl as time goes by. You see, we start out life as gutless hormone-less pre-adolescents with disdains for the female population. Time sets in, we grow older, stimulating chemicals engages our testicles into overdrive, suddenly we are not only drawn to girl, but need them to feel whole; thus begins the slow increase in the graph.

Not entirely sure about other countries or any special schools, but the vast majority of Singaporean boys would either get a girlfriend or not get a girlfriend (Maybe the minority are kidnap and sold to the sex trade, I don't know, don't question me smartass). The significance of this is that, every time a guy gets a girlfriend, the timer resets, suddenly he's back to his youthful self where he isn't compelled by his primal instincts to get a girlfriend...because he's already found one, recently. My time without a girlfriend is at 18 this year, and statistics has shown that an 18 year old relationship virgin would get 3 infatuations in a year.

Remember when I said that I went into AJC in the pursuit of this wonderful girl? Efforts were made, testicles were shrunk and the pursuit was fruitless. Going into a school for the reason of wooing a girl; probably not the wisest idea, especially if you aren't close to her to begin with. We chatted, smiled at each other, texted but the point is that we were still distant. Halfway through my first year I met this girl in my CCA that I still am thinking about till today. She isn't actually the one who got away, more of, the one who was let away (Picture a girl being chained down to two large balls, unable to run away, then picture the opposite).

Hold on, I came into the school being set on one girl, suddenly, I'm infatuated with another? Exactly. My 18 year old mind, riddled with cognitive dissonance thus fell back onto a long inculcated supporting belief: Follow your heart, choose one. Needless to say, WHAT KIND OF A BELIEF IS THAT? My directions changed every time I saw one of them, like a tug of war between two equal forces, making slight advances to one side, and then back again. Nothing of value was achieved, and then I got close to another girl....Not elaborating this one...Nope...I gotta get to the main topic of the post.

What exactly am I hoping for in my life? Hard to say, with the first girl I liked, I imagined a normal ordinary life, having fun everyday. I imagined a life travelling around the world with the second. And I imagined a thrill seeking life with the third. John Snow, the doctor that saved millions from the deathly hands of a Cholera outbreak a little less than 200 years ago, taught us to draw conclusions by drawing similarities from evidences. Doing that, I would say that my perfect life with a girl would be one that caters to her personality, making her happy via a way unique and effective to only her. Take that Sherlock.

Readers of this, and my last post would probably be expecting a list of things I want in a perfect woman any time now (Oh you're just waiting for the post to end? Well that's very nice of you, thank you). Regardless of my need to feel condescending sometimes, I do confess that I don't think I would want to spend time listing my hopes and dreams digitally. But I will reveal that, to most people, I am probably less conventional and more modern in my views on relationships, yes, that means, casual sex and a more technical view on things.

Though I may lie awake on my bed everyday thinking about how wonderful it is to find the woman of my dreams and settle down. That's probably not what I need right now, you know, you gotta access all the watermelons on sale before choosing the best one. You gotta survey the forest before you choose the best tree to build a tree house on...You gotta empty the oceans to be sure you have the fish you want. But enough with the symbolisms, perhaps all I want right now, is to just, survey the forest, and explore the oceans. Look for someone to have fun with. Which may explain why two of my favourite God-Mode songs are Bad by The Cab and Sweeter by Gavin Degraw (Step 1: Listen to them. Step 2: Who the hell cares! Nothing can stop you now!)

Did you notice the extremely high portion of the graph after a long time has passed? I'm 19 this year, that means that I still have 21 more years before I start falling in love with mannequins at UNIQLO just because they were kind enough to show people how clothes may look on them. Onwards.

The hunt for the perfect woman

Many a times people find themselves staring blankly onto their ceilings, wondering, what will my life partner be? Is there, just one perfect person in the overpopulated world that is fantastically wonderful enough for me to spend the rest of my life with? Some find themselves as Barney Stinson or Ted Mosby; combing through entire populations, trying people out in relationships until they find the one. Others tend to settle into bambi phase, remaining innocent until they're sure they've found the one for them (as in the case of many.....many, Singaporeans). But then again, how sure can the bambis know if they've truly found the right one?

"Huh? Why is this kid acting like he's got life figured out?" Look, I'm 18, never had a girlfriend, never lived a life away from my parents for more than a week, I think I've got life figured out. Ok? Irrational and ludicrous as that was, this is just, how I think the concept of a one true love is.
                                                                                                                                                                 
From the mouth of a comforting friend to the devastated newly-dumped wreck, "There are many fishes in the sea in a planet of 7 billion, somewhere out there, there's the perfect woman for you but she isn't that bitch that dumped your ass." Well what if the perfect one for you is trapped in a baby factory in Nigeria or busy wondering if she will be in the next Transformers movie (Megan Fox please come back)? I guess it is truly comforting and enchanting to believe in the "perfect one" concept but if H2 Economics has taught me anything, it would be that imperfect information exists in the real world and humans, no matter how curious they are, are susceptible to the principal of adequacy. (No, economics doesn't teach the principal of adequacy, I just came up with that. Calm yo tits, you'll do fine for your A levels)

How does a TV work? It receives signal from a channel broadcaster and translate that signal information into pictures and sound shown on the screen. How does the channel broadcaster send signals? Via large antennas and satellites that are able to send radio waves over vast distances. Suddenly, the principal of adequacy kicks in, and we feel like we understand how TV's show Spongebob and Ben 10 to keep our brains thoroughly entertained. We don't go on and ask, how are the signals translated into motion picture and sound? How is electricity converted to power the TV? The same applies when deciding someone is your happily ever after. We feel satisfied enough to propose to someone, just because she understands you, you can't stop thinking about her, she offers great sex. But could your soul mate be in actuality, another person that not only fulfils the stated 3 criteria, but also, happily serves you a beer during dinner?

No one knows exactly, how to determine if someone is their soul mate or not. (Nope, not even Google, not even your Mom). Will she make me a better person? Can he support me and the family in the future? Can she cook? Are these even the criteria of a perfect mate? Am I asking too many questions? Does anyone even read rhetorical questions when they're stated like this? Many of these criteria can be easily tested while dating, or even stalking someone (for you dirty little fellows), but many more assessments, in my opinion cannot be tested until you pass a point of no return.

I guess, I would say I'm a Ted Mosby, vaguely dreaming of a perfect wife, not wanting to settle over anything less. But at the same time I believe in what I've said thus far. In my 18 years of life, 3 girls have really smitten me, anyone of them would seem like a perfect girl for me, but the life envisioned with them are as different as each one of them are. Not saying that they're my golden minnows in the sea of fishes (Feeding Frenzy is a fun game) but they definitely seemed adequate to my senses so far.

But it's 3am in the morning and 24 hours after a zombifying night of drinking, I feel my brain going numb and my ability to make sense drifting away with my hope of finding my ....Cinderella (I'm running out of terms to call the perfect woman) But if anything, I feel scared, scared that I won't be able to find her before I'm 40, and scared that the principal of adequacy sticks it up my ass leaving me with just a silver minnow till my death. I don't know which is worse. But until then, I'll be listing, listing my criteria like your mom when deciding what sofa to buy for the new year, after being sleep deprived for two days, on her period.... The list's probably meant for another post.

Clubbing: Go high or go home

One of my after As goal was to learn to pick up girls, I haven't actually done anything Simple Pickup, but I did go to a club for the most recent new year. I guess like most first timers my goals were pretty simple; hook up with a girl. Not even close, I tried four times and got "no", "NO", *shakes head* and "fuck you!" as replies to my request for a new years kiss. CAN'T SAY I EXPECTED TO SUCCEED ON MY FIRST EXPERIENCE, or maybe it was because I had that mindset at the very beginning that I was not as successful as my partners for the night.

Regardless, "Experience is the teacher of all things" (I'm totally doubtful that Julius Caesar once said that, I mean, more than 2000 years ago... Don't they have Jesus Christ to crucify instead of writing down everything someone said?) and from that clubbing experience I have made a list of key pointers I have to remember on my next journey into cramped deafening dark realms known as clubs.

Pointer No. 1: Know Thy Enemy
It's a dog eat dog world out there, and anyone you don't know, is gonna eat you. Nah, I'm crapping, they won't eat you, neither are they dogs...but then again, you could liken any over-intoxicated human with any organism in the animal kingdom. Hang on to anyone you know if you're intimidated by the drunk crowd (that would probably be unaware of your presence) or if the alcohol in your body is evaporating through the very pores of your skin leaving you a deflated sack of awkwardness. Anyway, entering the club, you should probably note that most of the patrons are either working adults, in polytechnics, and probably, more experienced than you. This means, your witty comments and jokes aren't gonna work, no one's interested in your experience studying, and...nevermind, if you're thinking about this, you in da wrong neighbourhood.

Pointer No. 2: Screw God, Alcohol determines your fate tonight
Your chemistry teacher ever taught you that alcohol is a solution? Don't enter work life like most graduates, thinking that people never apply anything taught in school. Think back and be grateful for the day the education system taught you that beer, vodka, champagne, Jack Daniels are all answers to your oozing awkwardness.
I do, however, note that, there are three kinds of drunk people: Ones who go inexplicably high. Ones who go silent as if the very noise of a pin drop created by them would give a child cancer. And lastly, the boomers (Left 4 Dead Players would get this). Well if you are any of the last two...I'm really not sure, perhaps you can channel your inner Neil Strauss, get into God Mode, or something, just ensure, you live by pointer number three.

Pointer No. 3: A pussy does not get wet from begging
Stop acting disgusted by me, you know its true that when people go to clubs, guys PROBABLY want to be successful with a girl while girls, just wanna have fun. *Cue the 1980s funk* Don't be a try-hard, cos the harder you try, the harder things get. You keep trying, and soon, everything dries up; your energy to stay in the club, your self esteem, the pussies of all your targets. You know like what happens when you dry up pork strips? You get rock hard bacon, exactly my point. Except that it won't taste good, at all. Just, have fun....I went into the club, with the mindset of having a good time, socializing, making friends and I was successful at that. You don't have to get laid everytime you get into a club, you can't anyway.

I know right, "he's only been to a club once and he's acting like he knows it all". But do my pointers really not make sense? If not, then, Vodka, I bid thee, give me strength on the 29th.

Reboot 2.0

I just realized one rule of writing, a train of thought never remains in your mind for 3 days, especially if those 3 days involve mind numbing hours of Dota and physically enfeebling late night runs (technically it was just one run from midnight till 5am). 

But looking back at what I was writing; finishing my experiences of the past few years seem apt. 

Went to JC, met nice people, worked on my socializing skills, no more awkwardness with females (that is, unless I want to make them feel so). I'm thinking of compiling a list of pickup lines to use..hmmm.. and then I ended the year with the break from studying. 

Study break: Likewise for many people, my study break didn't match up to expectations. Same as most cowardly Singaporean students, I had plans to meet, go out and (please by the power of hope in god) make her my girl. Life doesn't work that way; she got together with someone while I was in Australia with my family, missing my Graduation night. Guess what ladies, I'm single and ready to mingle. 

So what else had I planned for myself? 

Hardcore limb-amputating heart exploding training in preparation for Commando camp on Feb 7:

Well I ran till I vomited yesterday and I no longer lose that fast in the push up game, so, I've got that.

Start making music covers with my JC friends:

lesson learnt, mahjiong cannot be won by waiting for your pair of eyes. Unchecked.

Picking up girls:

Does being rejected count? I'll elaborate on my clubbing experience.

Learn the guitar: 

Unchecked

Improve at Dota:

NOW I CAN BOAST THAT IVE INCREASED MY WIN LOSS RATIO TO A POSITIVE. I need more of a life that goes beyond respawning and dying, respawning, dying, rinse, repeat...Check.

Psychologists say that there are 3 components to motivation that are really important to make you accomplish such goals: Activation, Persistence and Intensity. God bless Google, may you continue to provide millions of adolescents pictures of boobs. Amen. (Did I say boobs? I meant jeans shaking information)

Anyway, my point is, without Activation there will be nothing, without any extrinsic or intrinsic rewards, there will be no Activation. I may be finding excuses and all, but, just like studying for JC, I just can't sense a tangible reward. Except for Dota where I get to own people, hence the check.

Read recently that behavioural analysts have channelled their skills and knowledge (that are probably found on Google) into the commercial market to learn how to use our subconscious mind to pull money right from under our noses. From what I know, everything we do, is led by habits, ingrained attitudes taught from young UNLESS something about the habit changes. Everything about psychology is made of 3 parts; a habit is the same: Stimulus, Action, Reward.

A stimulus could be anything in your life. The clock ticking noon could stimulate you to find lunch as a habit to reward yourself with good food. Waking up remembering that A levels is coming might stimulate you to go study for the reward of good grades. (I don't know if I'm getting this right, but tell me psychologist, which number from 1 to 10 am I thinking of now?) 

My point is, when an individual experiences a life changing event, getting pregnant (according to that article I read) or, finishing A levels, lifestyles change, habits are lost and free to be re-....inscribed onto our neuro-network. Somewhere in the past year my short term motivated brain decided to make myself into a better person, and I gotta wait for one of these life-changing events to be most effective in completing my study break plans. NS here I come... change my life. 

And by the way psychologist, I was thinking of the number 8. 

Reboot

A lot has changed since my last posts that I have since deleted. Why delete, you may ask. Everyone cringes looking at many things they have done in the past, and then I wondered, why?

Personality Sculpting. Throughout life we are constantly influenced by things, people and all kinds of shit around us which influences our personality, our character. The way we think, the way we perceive or react to different things. I guess, that's what happen during the last time i posted and now, probably a 6 year difference. Resulting 2014 me thinking 2008 me was dumb, maybe in 2020 when I'm reading this I may just do the same. 

Reminiscing what has changed my personality so far though, I realize a large part of my life changed within these 6 years. Puberty for one, blessed me with the height to tower over others and kiss girls one step up the escalator, sometimes two. Got my first major crush that taught me not to be a pussy (after being one tho), up till today I guess we can still be considered as friends...but only if you lower your criteria of what you call a friend. Then haha, Secondary to Jc transition, big changes everywhere. Ever heard of paradox of choice? Good grades lead to me being able to choose most, if not all JCs. But I had only two in mind, follow the girl I fancied to AJ, or my friends to PJ. Such a big decision in a Singaporean child's life (probably one of the few life decisions Singaporean children get to choose) but I made my decision on 3 reasons. 

1. The Bro Code may state Bros before Hoes and all, but Article 1 does mention that the code is not applicable if the bro has been experiencing a dry spell for more than 3 months. I've had a dry spell, for 16 years at that time. And well, its 18 now.

2. Well we always choose the better choice on paper right?

3. Me and ma bros ain't gonna fade in just two years when we're still taking the same exams and living in such proximity, ain't no way.

Perhaps some careful on-field research may have been necessary, but I followed the girl to AJ (if it wasn't already apparent). The following 2 years turned out to be the most stressful years of my life, so far. But hey, life motto-no regrets. I would have probably retained in PJ and the new principal of AJ definitely improved the AJ culture, making me optimistic for AJ's future.

Moreover, in AJ, my social circle definitely widened and I got to do things I definitely could not do in PJ. Performing as a band with my friends multiple times are definitely goanna be on my list of deathbed memories. Not forgetting, meeting this wonderful girl. 

This is beginning to seem like a long post despite me being a inexperience blogger. I'll leave the rest of this train of thoughts for another post.