Usually have a lot of things to say. Just no mood to blog. =x
25 years old.
NUS graduate.
Now earning a living as someone who has to speak properly, spell properly, write properly.
No I'm not working for Sesame street!
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Tuesday, March 23, 2004
It was a day at home and I was feeling a little lazy, so I jumped into my pink poka dotted swimming suit with yellow rubber ducky included and popped down to the swimming pool.
Not that I swam much. As usual. I just enjoy playing in the pool like a big baby. I guess the local mental hospital's incoming calls increase whenever I was seen inside the waters. Either they thought they saw a mad man, or they turned crazy at such a sight.
Yes I'm that inspirational.
And I found out I can only last slightly less than a minute underwater! How sucky is that, considering I'm not even moving. If I swim my breath probably gets extinguished twice as fast. How the hell can people last so long? Even normal people on Fear Factor seem to breathe through their gills.
Inside the pool there was this French (they sound French) little girl with her dad. Not sure how old's the kid. You know that age where they know how to walk and cry and make meaningless sounds that are supposed to be words, but not words. She was so cute in a little cap on her head secured through her neck, and as her dad held her tight and brushed her through the waters, her little squeals of delight brought joy to all around including the sun which beamed brightly down.
Ah. The warmth exuded from a loved one, to a loved one. Made me think back on the times where my parents did those sorta stuff. I was probably too small to remember, but I don't think they brought their small kids to the pool, although we did do a lot of things together as a family, like going to the park, where I had my most favourite picture taken of myself, bouncing around in ecstatic joy.
Now this stupid train of thought only leads me to the bastard (synonym for dad). Hope he's begging in the cold streets being spit on from time to time. Asshole.
Don't digress, Trent!
Oh hmm. So swimming was fun. Simply relaxing. And hopefully the water therapy will help improve my body's vitality.
Nah who am I kidding, the sharp pains keep coming back, mostly just hovering around waiting to attack. I'll continue waiting a while more to see if I need a doctor.
But in any terrible circumstance that I collapse and go to hospital, please contact everyone who cares. Can't wait to see all of you by my bed. I want ribena, and macademia nuts.
triggering Mr Ng HS |
Not that I swam much. As usual. I just enjoy playing in the pool like a big baby. I guess the local mental hospital's incoming calls increase whenever I was seen inside the waters. Either they thought they saw a mad man, or they turned crazy at such a sight.
Yes I'm that inspirational.
And I found out I can only last slightly less than a minute underwater! How sucky is that, considering I'm not even moving. If I swim my breath probably gets extinguished twice as fast. How the hell can people last so long? Even normal people on Fear Factor seem to breathe through their gills.
Inside the pool there was this French (they sound French) little girl with her dad. Not sure how old's the kid. You know that age where they know how to walk and cry and make meaningless sounds that are supposed to be words, but not words. She was so cute in a little cap on her head secured through her neck, and as her dad held her tight and brushed her through the waters, her little squeals of delight brought joy to all around including the sun which beamed brightly down.
Ah. The warmth exuded from a loved one, to a loved one. Made me think back on the times where my parents did those sorta stuff. I was probably too small to remember, but I don't think they brought their small kids to the pool, although we did do a lot of things together as a family, like going to the park, where I had my most favourite picture taken of myself, bouncing around in ecstatic joy.
Now this stupid train of thought only leads me to the bastard (synonym for dad). Hope he's begging in the cold streets being spit on from time to time. Asshole.
Don't digress, Trent!
Oh hmm. So swimming was fun. Simply relaxing. And hopefully the water therapy will help improve my body's vitality.
Nah who am I kidding, the sharp pains keep coming back, mostly just hovering around waiting to attack. I'll continue waiting a while more to see if I need a doctor.
But in any terrible circumstance that I collapse and go to hospital, please contact everyone who cares. Can't wait to see all of you by my bed. I want ribena, and macademia nuts.
triggering Mr Ng HS |