Real Brainstorming Session
Thanks to all the scholarship essays and university personal statement, I have reflected a thousand times upon my past, my past life and dreamt a thousand times about my future.
Then I regretted. I should have always kept a diary to note down all the interesting things that I have encountered. Not just the domestic things but also major events. So that I will not be so at a lost when I have to write essay with topics like 'An event that you encountered personally that is especially meaningful to you' (NTU ASEAN), 'Describe a person who has influenced you' (NTU ASEAN), 'Describe two challenges you have faced in your life' (SIA Cargo) blah blah blah. Seriously, I can't find anything that's really significant to write about. That's why I am always spending hours just to come up with a short piece of unsophisticated work.
So, honest advice from a true friend: Keep a record of impactful events/people. It will come in handy one day when you have to live at the mercy of sophisticated people.
But well, the never-ending essays really brought me back into my memories. The good ol' primary school days, CJCH craze, SC days, friends whom I have forgotten, acquaintances who have shared noble truth with me, strangers that have widened my viewspan, tiny things that seemed extremely significant then... Sherene asked me for CJCH msn group address. I checked for her, then shun bian take a peek into the long abandoned website. The photos posted there brought back the faded faces with forgotten names to my eyes. The forgotten times.
How we irritated Brother Paul by insulting him right there in the group message boards (I like the TWO-LEGGED FREAK, PAUZILLA loads!)(We were discovered 3 days after that, and were severely dealth with),
how we cramped in Sister Maria's room for aircon and entertainment during the SARS quarantine period,
how we prepared for hostel games, exuberance, dance (which now should have been scraped by the conservative Brother Paul. URGH!),
the staircase talks,
how we sneaked into the tv room in the midnight,
how Aunty April always appeared suddenly outside your room to scold you for doing any unlawful things (In her eyes, storing food in your room is illegal. Burning midnight oil is illegal too),
how I used to tie my hair into two plaits and felt proud of it,
how we cheered in the tv room for World Cup 2002,
the hostel meetings where everyone would gather and get humiliated with terms like 'uncivilised', 'fools',
how we helped each other to sign in and out at the attendance list,
how we ran for buses in the morning,
how we preserved the 50 mangoes we got from the mango tree in front of the hostel (Most of them were rotten in the end),
how we celebrated birthdays with the cruelest sabotage,
I can't remember more.
And the list will only get shorter each year as I forget more and more.
But I know.
I have once cherished those times I had in the hostel.