"As i stared out of my window, through the slightly drawn blinds, i could see the break of dawn. Working hard on my assignment that would be due in the next 48 hours, i had a few regrets. Food, bed, sleep. Would it be better if i just hopped into my nice and presently cold bed, rocking myself to sleep under delicious lush and warm comforters? or was it more advisable to endure my throbbing bag and strained eyesight to finish one or two more sentences of my essay. In fact, right now, i'm not doing my essay incase you havent noticed. the truth be it that i cant concentrate very often. probably because i'm suffering from a self-recognized illness known as ADD (attention defecit disorder). i'm sure, most people when faced with a huge stack of work experience similar symptoms, some going to the extreme of gorging themselves with food straight from the fridge.

My ADD was probably passed down for generations before it got to me. my brother's got it, my dad's got it, my granny's got it ( maybe more on the old-people's senile diease). In anycase, i'm just one of the carriers of this diease that i've had for a long long time. when i was a kid, i had to be threatened or tied down before i was willing to eat. and yet i somehow managed to balloon up til i looked like Alvin, the chipmunk. Really, how can a kid of my age, with that little pocket money, manage to buy so much snacks to stuff myself with? easy. i had a loving mother and a loving father. besides, food in school was ultra-cheap. did i say cheap? i meant dirt-cheap. thinking of the good old days make me want to start binging again.

those were the days when food was as cheap as 40 cents for a bowl of chee chong fan, deliciously scrumptuous,despite warnings from my friends of the unhygenic hands that grabbed the chee chong fan before i got hold of it. Really, when you were young, fit and fat, a little dirt and greese would do no harm to your tummy. Nowadays, even overeating can kick in and cause my over-sensitive tummy to tie into knots and give me a hell of a good time. Remembering the times make me miss my old school even more. back then, we never really appreciated much the nagging and threats our teachers lashed out on us. Those were the best times in my entire life. the times when you felt you were at home, loved and cared for.

There were many teachers i missed, my art teacher, my history teacher, and even the big bad ms toh, my choir teacher. those were gay times. When i get back to singapore, i would pay them all a visit, though some i might never be able to see ever, but there's always a place in my heart for them.

*dedicated to mr pang - the only teacher who was willing to pay to watch me sing. All the time we spent in the drawing room with you, annoying you with our operatic sounds and noises, you were dear to us. may god bless and hold you close.