Sunday, July 21, 2013

Well, hey there.
I wonder why I still have this blog up sometimes.
I guess a part of me wants to relive the days I had back then...
But they're never coming back. And I know that.
You know that, too.
Now, this blog's more of a relic, something I keep for memories' sake.
But that's not entirely true, is it?
I wanna use this blog.
However, I'm way too lazy to change the layout and all that to suit the person I am now...
Well, this blog's gonna stay like this for a while, it seems.
I don't mind.
Do you?
Thanks for reading, stranger.
It means something.
Have a nice day (or night).
And remember... Be who you are, when you want to.
There's no point doing something if it isn't fun, or ultimately beneficial.
Cheers.

~YXW/XZR/NRZ
Getting consumed @ 1:34 AM

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

I tiptoed carefully down the long spiral staircase. Moss crept along the floor in this part of the castle - and it didn't help that only the torch I held lit the way. I could barely see three feet in front of me, the air smelt of damp cloth, and the walk seemed to carry on for eternity....

Quite a number of steps later, I stood in front of the large stone door I had snuck out to find. The familiar engravings of dragons and knights flickered in the unstable light of the torch, making it seem as if the battle from so long ago was taking place right before my eyes. I shuddered, and reached out to push the door. But before I could touch the coarse surface, it shifted inwards by itself.

"Come in," said a low voice.

I composed myself and walked into the room. It was smaller than I remembered; maybe it was because I hadn't been in there for more than ten years. Aged books with nearly-rotting leather bindings lined the shelves just like before, and the same blue flame sat in the far corner, never seeming to get smaller. Speaking of which, I'd never seen any firewood being put into it....

Snapping out of my train of thoughts, I turned my attention to the back of the man who sat beside the flame on an ornate wooden stool. He was well-built, with jet black hair that stood out, even with its short length, against the rest of him. His azure robes flowed from his broad, muscular shoulders and spread across the ground like a puddle. It seemed to flow like a miniature waterfall, but at the same time, it gave me the impression that if I were to touch it, it would be like touching a glacier - solid and cold.... yet majestic, and full of life underneath....

"Well? What are you here for?" he asked, still not turning to face me.

I sighed, and walked across the surprisingly well-lit room to stand beside him. He was polishing his blade. Not surprising, I thought. "Zern."

He still didn't turn. "Yes?"

I thought about how to say what I wanted to. Finally, "What do you intend to do with Saren?"

He continued to polish his blade with a focused glare, not saying anything for a few seconds. The near-silence was deafening. Then, "I intend to execute her."

My eyes widened. "What!? You can't!"

"And why not, young Alpha? She betrayed us. Nearly got us all killed. All for her ridiculous desire to be seen as a hero-"

"She didn't do it for herself! You're just too stubborn to see that-"

Suddenly, I was on the ground, face up and eye to eye with Zern. The blunt side of his blade was pressed against my throat, and it felt more like a shard of ice than anything else - but that wasn't what froze me. Zern's eyes glowed with a fierce, ancient icy blue, the only things apart from his robes that showed his age of hundreds of years... His eyes stared right into mine, and the temperature in the room plummeted. Fear took the breath from my lungs, and I wanted to gasp for air, to seek warmth before I froze to my doom - but I couldn't move. All I could do was stare back into his piercing glare.

"Stop with your foolery, Pan," he growled. "I tire of your efforts to cover up for these traitors; they chose to care only for themselves, but all you want to believe is that they had the greater good in mind. Let me remind you that nobody is like you, young Alpha. Nobody else would put his or her life down for the Agreement. And it is my duty to make sure that those traitors are put down..."

His eyes went back to normal. "Even if they are my brothers and sisters."

He stood up, and went back to his desk. "Leave," he said.

I sat up, panting. Slowly, I made my way out of the room and shut the door behind me. It was no wonder that Zern, the Winter Knight, was feared by all who wanted to go against the Great Order... But aside from his chillingly overwhelming power, what had made the warrior so cold inside...?

------

Oh man, I need to sleep.....



---

Done by Yap Xiao Wei on 16 June 2013. Reposted on Yap Xiao Wei's blog on 25 June 2013.

Labels:

~YXW/XZR/NRZ
Getting consumed @ 11:09 PM


I just lay there, dying. The details weren't exactly clear, and everything just seemed muffled. I did know that the whole place was on fire. I lay there, dying, barely breathing, on the ash-covered road. Fissures everywhere. Buildings were ablaze, the skies were a devilish, fiery red... and for a slight moment it was as if I was in Hell. I was the only one there... Oh, wait. The legless body of a chick in a white tank top lay a few feet in front of me. Or at least, that's what colour I think the tank top was. Her blood had drenched her clothes in a deep crimson hue. A searing breeze kicked ashes into my face. I blinked painfully, and looked at the girl's dead, lifeless body again. Maybe she was on her way to meet her friends for a girls' day out. Pity we had to come crashing in, destroying everything. Then I noticed a tattoo on her bare back, peeking out through her ripped top.

It was hard to make out, but it looked like the tattoo said "Fight for love". One of those cheesy motivational lines. I chuckled inside. How pathetic, to be dying on the streets with none of my friends or family with me. I'd read so many books and articles in my lifetime, but the last words I'd ever see would be on the back of some dead, random chick, with burning buildings collapsing all around me. Oh, and cold rain. It had taken me a long while, but then I noticed it was raining. Great. Just great. "Fight for love", huh?

Yeah, maybe I'll fight for love later... But first, I needed some rest.

My eyelids began to close. The end, I thought. Maybe I'd see Vrin in beautiful, shining bright Heaven or something. Wait, could Atheists go to Heaven? Whatever... I'd think about it after I took a short nap...

FIGHT.

What?

My eyes snapped open. What was that?

FIGHT.

There it was again. Was I so near death that voices would start ringing in my head? Great. Just great. All I wanted was to go off peacefully, and-

FIGHT.

I thought about all the events that had led up to this. My parents, screaming as the hated "Reaper incarnate" tortured them inside with images of death and horror. The discovery of Mergerith, an inexhaustible energy source. The strange, overwhelming fire that killed everyone back in Base 6. Vril, driving the Mergerith weapon into himself so that the rest of us could escape from the Reaper. And there was something else.... The Reaper had whispered something into my ear before he'd stabbed me again and again with his twisted blade. What was it, again? I struggled to remember...

FIGHT.

Ah, yes. He'd said.... That he'd torture every last one of my "weak, foolish comrades". Who... were my comrades? I dug deeper. Wait... Christy? She was still alive. For now. Ranth... Zeth... Keira... He was going to torture them. Torture them all... to oblivion. And I would be alive to watch as he did so.

Just like he had tortured my parents, right in front of me.

FIGHT!

Somehow, with my broken body, I stood up. My legs were shaking, and pain ruled my entire being. Pain was all I felt. That, and a small, explosive feeling... I could sense it emerging from the corners of my mind, growing in strength, growing in activity...

FIGHT!

I brought my gaze up, and laid it upon the back of the hated Reaper. He was walking away, his skinny depthless frame eclipsing what was visibly left of the sun setting over the horizon. He was at least a good twenty kilometres away, but I could still make out his twisted horns, one on either side of his head. Reaper incarnate he claimed to be, I thought, but underneath it all, human he was. And humans... died. Eventually.

FIGHT!

I stopped shaking. My breathing went back to normal. Suddenly, I could feel everything around me - I could hear the ashes touching the ground, hundreds of them at a time. The heat from the burning buildings hit my skin from all directions, in so many waves I couldn't even keep track. And the blood... The blood trickling down my right temple. It was so... warm. A bit of it was in my mouth, and the taste.... An unpleasant taste of copper. It was metallic... but that wasn't all. I could taste and smell something else, something animalistic. Willpower filled my lungs. I breathed it in, inhaled it in all its greatness, felt raw power surging within me. Predatory instincts activated. And with that one breath, I threw my soul forward, roaring with all my might. Even as I lost myself in the pandemonium of it all, I could still tell: What came out of my mouth was greater than a beast's bellow, but wasn't quite the same; It was a perfect mix... of human, beast and - strangely - machine...

Standing where I was, I could see him turn, his cocky face matching his green reptilian eyes, the only light that shone from his unholy, darkened skin. His eyes met mine, and almost immediately, I watched as his expression changed to one of complete horror. A new scent hit me like a brick wall. Sour. So strong, so stinging, so... sweet. I almost laughed. The Reaper feared me. I glared right back, staring into his eyes. His fear was delicious, filling me with ecstasy... and the beast wanted more.

My body tensed. I leaned forward, letting myself fall. My legs bent, preparing energy like compressed springs... And I leaped forward with another predatory roar, flinging myself right in front of him in a second.

A whole lot of thoughts ran through my mind in the second I soared towards the Reaper. I'll pluck those horns out first, I thought. Torture my comrades? I'd torture YOU, dig out one of your eyes... I'll crush your limbs one by one, then skin every part of your body, little by little and as slowly as possible... Indulge in your screaming, your death throes, your pain... And I'll make sure the last thing you ever saw through your other eye... is my expression as I rip your beating heart out and crush it with my bare hands...

When I stopped one foot in front of him, our eyes met once again, and his thoughts were out for me to read like an open book: Why is he still moving? I crushed him... There's no way he's still able to move... There's no way he's still able to fight!

And he must have been able to read my thoughts as well, because his expression of horror became even more twisted than before. He seemed to see me as fear incarnate - and as much as he believed himself to be the Reaper, he knew that nothing could stop me from destroying his helpless self.

Painfully.

And before I reached for his face to rip out his eye, a bit of humanity came to the surface of my self and said but one word:

"Die."

Well, that was (and took) longer than expected. Trust on fatigue and depression to take imagination to new heights...

*No spellcheck.



---

Done by Yap Xiao Wei on 3 June 2013. Reposted on Yap Xiao Wei's blog on 25 June 2013.

Labels:

~YXW/XZR/NRZ
Getting consumed @ 11:07 PM




The Union.

It's been quite a while since my half(and a bit more)-year stint in the Publicity Committee of Ngee Ann Polytechnic's Student Union ended. It was a great experience, culminating in the Union's Publicity Fair in the CCA Fiesta.

However... Those few days before the semester really began... Reminded me what the Union truly was, and still is.

Right here is something you could call a "diary entry". You could argue that a diary's supposed to be personal. Special. Private. Well, this post IS. Personal, at least. Special? Depends on the reader. Private? Hell no. But something like this shouldn't be written in some diary, locked up in some corner and eventually forgotten. This comes out of my head. Now. And if you want to read, then go ahead. It's all here.

First up, some background information: I didn't go for FOC back in Year 1, but went for Challengers after a friend recommended the camp to me. Following that, I signed up to be a part of the Union Subcommittee, and got in. (More on this later on.) You could say that it was all "fine and dandy", but only for two months.

That was a meeting I never forgot... It was one of those weekly subcommittee meetings, on Tuesdays for Publicity. My committee head.... You could say she broke down just slightly. We hadn't been doing the work assigned to us, you see, and she let us know her disappointment on that day, after a few weeks with barely any work done.

But the issue about us not doing work wasn't what hit me, and neither was it her disappointment. It was a bit of what she said during the meeting:

"I know many of you joined the Union, aiming to be GLs for next year's FOC. But the executive committee of the Union doesn't just look at who's in the Union - they look at who has the necessary traits to be a GL, to lead the freshies in the Freshmen Orientation Camp. Remember what you said in the subcomm interview, when they asked you what you would prioritise if you had to? Many of you answered that you would choose the Union if it ever clashed in timing with your CCAs and other matters, but you've been skipping meetings, and you're obviously just not taking this seriously. With the way you guys have been.... I'm sorry, but I don't think any of you can be GLs."

After her emotional outburst, I didn't even feel "bad"; in the interview I mentioned earlier on, they asked me that very question. I'd said that studies would be number 1, canoeing would be number 2 (due to my passion for the sport), and the Union would come in 3rd. They'd accepted my answer, and I remembered that. I felt slightly guilty for not doing my assigned work, yes, but I knew that already. That didn't affect me. What I felt after her words was a feeling of shock and loss.

Some of you might be wondering, "Why? There's nothing shocking about what she said - it's not like everyone would have done their jobs super-efficiently". But it's not that. What ran through my head at the time was this:

"People joined the Union to be GLs? I didn't know that. You could be a GL for FOC by being in the Union? Wait, so that's what these guys joined for? Wasn't the Union created to serve the student body? Why's she saying this like it's happened before? What's.... What's going on????"

And this brings me back to another point in the interview: When they'd asked me why I wanted to join the Union, I'd said that I wanted to make a difference in the lives of the student body. The Union, as I knew it, was there to organise events so that the student body would be happy. It was one of those things that the students could look at, and be glad it was around. It was great. It was grand. It had a noble purpose. And I wanted to be a part of it, to make people... happy.

They let me into the Union after I'd given them that explanation. After my comm head's "speech", I looked back at the interview. I'd told them my reason for wanting to join the Union. They must have known that people like me didn't think the same way the vast majority of the Union did. They knew...

And they brought me in.

I felt as if I'd been slapped in the face with a brick. I realised then that it was highly likely that most of the people in the Union, who came in through FOC, didn't really care about the rest of the student body. Or rather, they didn't make the welfare of the student body their priority. After all, it was always so much easier.... to care more about yourself than for others. Take no offence.

And so, I lost faith in the Union.

Fast forward a few months from then, and you come to the near past - the "CCA Fiesta season". We stayed in The Loft@94 throughout the period of the Fiesta, and on the night after the first day, someone wondered aloud why the other CCAs didn't seem to like us. Someone else commented that perhaps they were envious - jealous, even - of the Union's budget. (It's pretty huge.) I didn't think much about it.

Over the course of the next 3 days, I realised 2 more things that hit me harder than the first did, in two different encounters:

1) I was given a camera and asked to capture pictures of the bustling crowds around the Union booths while people came to enquire about the Union, and when the Party Committee gave out their tickets for Magnitude. When nothing was going on, I snapped any activity around the booth. That was when I saw the Malay Cultural Club performing for the freshies. It was magnificent, and their outfits looked amazing. On instinct, I brought the DSLR to my eye.

Then I stopped. This wasn't related to the Union. I was asked to capture pictures of the great fun people were having at the Union's end, so as to "publicise the Union", which is what my committee is for. If I took any photos unrelated to the Union, they would probably be deleted while the "fun Union photos" would have been uploaded to its Facebook page.

I then remembered that what makes life great isn't the assortment of huge events that come by once a year, or once in two years; it's the little things, like when it doesn't rain when you're out cycling with your friends, when the bus driver lets you on even though you're out of all cash, when your friends wait for you in the toilet because they know you'll be terrified if you're all alone. In that sense, wouldn't the student body be happier and more appreciative if the Union did small, meaningful things instead of holding huge events like Magnitude, where only a small amount of people can take part? In its core, what I saw was that the Union wasn't doing enough not because it didn't have the ability to; it was because the Union didn't seem to care enough to focus more on the actual happiness levels of the students rather than the self-satisfaction with hosting grandiose events. Of course, I could be wrong. Maybe they just don't realise that the student body would be happier if, for example, the Union actually helped all the other CCAs gain publicity by highlighting them with photos on its own Facebook page, which has so many more followers. It'd benefit everyone, I believe. Really.

2) A friend of mine visited me at the Union booth while I was snapping photos. From him, I learned that every student contributes a certain amount to the Union's budget every semester - it's actually stated in the receipt after you pay your fees. Why, and how, then, could someone in the Union say that other CCAs didn't like the Union because they were envious (or rather, JEALOUS) of the budget we were getting? It's their money, and yet they weren't getting anything back from the Union. It was a one-way transaction, and that disturbed me. In relation to my first point, doing little things, like using the reach that we possess to help them publicise their CCAs, for instance, is worth more than any cash value in my opinion. What this means: The Union should deliver to all students, because (more or less) all students keep the Union afloat. They power its existence. The Union owes the student body, at the very least.... It should remember that.

---

I'm near the end. Bear with me. This last part doesn't have much reasoning, just a heads-up.

---

As a part of the Publicity Committee, I was told to tell any freshies that asked about the Union that (1) the Union consists of the entire student body, (2) we of the subcommittee and executive committee make it our mission to safeguard the welfare of the student body, and (3) well, yeah. We're one big family, in that sense.

I'll be frank: I didn't tell any of the freshies that. I couldn't bring myself to say something which I didn't truly believe in. The Union, consisting of the entire student body? That was complete and utter rubbish. The "Union" has been, and still is, a gathering place, an exclusive club for people who went for FOC. Yes, it plans events. Its executive committee members sign on a manifesto of sorts, seen in the Union office, to swear by their names to dedicate themselves to the welfare of the student body. Yes, it sounds great. But how much value do those people place on their signatures? I asked a friend in the Union whom I trust, and he told me that sometimes, people think they can make a change, but when they try, they realise that it's not so easy, and then they forget about it over time. I'm not sure if that's true. But they placed their signatures on that paper, so it became their duty then. I'm not sure if I'm okay with them "not being able to do anything" after that.

Within the Union, co-workers are seen as precious friends who can't be offended for fear of damaging friendships, and it all leads to inefficient making of decisions and wastage of precious time. This, and the people inside don't really care about the ones they're supposed to serve. It's been a disappointment.

But all in all.... I did somewhat enjoy my time in there. What should be changed isn't the people, but rather the system, and the culture. I don't know how long it'll take, but I do hope that some day, every student that joins NP will receive a "Welcome to the Union" note in his or her freshmen goodie bag and feel included, and the people of the Union will stand proud, knowing that they're sacrificing a bit of themselves for a lot of other people.

For Students, By Students.

---

I might have left out some thoughts along the way. This took quite a while to type, after all.... Did you know that the Union Committees consisted of only a few people until a few years ago? They were running fine back then. Think about it.

*Didn't spellcheck or anything. Too tired. Goodnight. No hate was involved in this post.


---

Done by Yap Xiao Wei on 26 May 2013. Reposted on Yap Xiao Wei's blog on 25 June 2013.

Labels: ,

~YXW/XZR/NRZ
Getting consumed @ 11:01 PM


Sometimes, you just wanna write. I'm gonna post up three long status updates that I'd posted on Facebook.... I think I really do like writing. Don't hate me!

~YXW/XZR/NRZ
Getting consumed @ 10:59 PM
--------
Profile: XiaoWei
I am: Yap Xiao Wei
Nickname: Avolt (Pronounced Eh-Volt, initials AVL)
Or: Xozaron (Pronounced Zoh-Zah-Rawn, initials XZR)
Or: Norazox (Pronounced No-Rah-Zoks, initials NRZ)
Age: 15 this year
I'm from: Singapore
I like: Sadism
I HATE: Jerks
Make yourself known through: yapxw2000@hotmail.com
This skin is made by: Puppie89
Heavily customized by: XiaoWei

The revolutionist

The name is Xiao Wei.
Virgo.
Saw the light on 31/8/1994.
Quiet.
Extremely reserved.
Can be amazingly different under given circumstances.
Feels lonely.
Wants to die.
And bring everyone along.
Constantly afraid.
Wants to confess.
But fears the consequences.
Loves watching others fear.
Will kill if necessary.

Forgotten Dreams
February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010 June 2010 April 2013 June 2013 July 2013

Wish

Gold eyes (Dream - Avolt)
A weapon (preferably a sword)
Flight (to soar)
The power in the dreams (which is amazing)
Someone who cares (and who I care for)
Someone true (and who I'm true to)
To not lose anything (especially friends and family)
To never wake up (from this dream)

Silent Talk

Doorways
GESS Canoeists
Cai Hong(sis)
Cai Xia(sis)
Bavani(ZPS/BMSS)
Edwin(ZPS/OSS)
Huili(ZPS/QTSS)
Huiling(ZPS/OSS)
Nasruddin(ZPS/OSS)
Nuruddin(ZPS/OSS)
Venus(ZPS/OSS)
Yi Zhi(1yr-senior)
Joel(1yr-senior)
Lava(1yr-senior)
Benjamin
Damien
Eryanah
Hadirah
Haressh
Kelin
Keren
Persis
Saras
Alvina(1yr-junior)
Amira(1yr-junior)
Cassandra(1yr-junior)
Jazz(1yr-junior)
Manoj(1yr-junior)
Vivian(1yr-junior)
Wei Qi(1yr-junior)
Yenyi(1yr-junior)
Zhen Yue(1yr-junior)
Aleen(2yr-junior)
Cheryl(2yr-junior)
Diana(2yr-junior)
Hayley(2yr-junior)
Jasmine(2yr-junior)
Jeslyn(2yr-junior)
Mavis(2yr-junior)
Xiu Ting(2yr-junior)
Ying Ying(2yr-junior)
Amanda(3yr-junior)
Kelly(3yr-junior)
Joanne(3yr-junior)
Ruolin(3yr-junior)
Beverly(Plurk)
Felicia(Plurk)
Minhan(Plurk)
Pamela(Plurk)
Shu Min(plurk)
Yanxuan(Plurk)

Credits