The day begins.<\/p>\n
My mum wakes me up,
\nworried I’d be late for school.
\nI’m strongly tempted to whine or complain.
\nI choose not to.
\nI play my cards right.<\/p>\n
I shower, get dressed, leave for school.
\nThe bus comes before I finish my cigarette,
\nbut I decide to board it anyway.
\nI make it to school on time.
\nI play my cards right.<\/p>\n
Morning assembly is uneventful.
\nGP lecture is about war and terrorism.
\nI feel strongly about it.
\nThe images do nothing.
\nI am desensitized to the images
\nafter all these years.<\/p>\n
Maths lecture puts me to sleep.
\nI probably seem awake.
\nI flit in and out of consciousness.<\/p>\n
I eat mee goreng instead of fishball noodles
\nor chicken rice during my break.
\nIt is bland.
\nBut I wouldn’t have been sure if I didn’t try.
\nI play my cards right.<\/p>\n
Economics is uneventful.
\nI didn’t do my homework,
\nbut I can follow the lesson fine. <\/p>\n
History is good.
\nI reflect about what it must have been like to be a communist.
\nMust really suck to be denied citizenship
\nand exiled from your homeland.
\nEspecially when you genuinely believed,
\nwith sweat and blood and tears, that
\nyou were fighting for its future.<\/p>\n
~~~<\/p>\n
I am really sleepy. The weather is stiflingly hot.
\nI fall asleep for an hour or so under the blocks across the road from school.
\nI wake up surrounded by the usual people.
\nThe weather is still blazing hot. <\/p>\n
The ice cold, sinfully thick oreo-vanilla from the bubble tea shop
\nclog up my throat wonderfully.<\/p>\n
I am strongly tempted to leave school, but I have CCA commitments.
\nI decide to stay and see it through. It is vaguely entertaining.
\nI will be getting my Ex-Co credits on my SGC.
\nI play my cards right.<\/p>\n
I am face to face with something
\nwhich has bothered me for the longest time.
\nI realise now, well and truly,
\nthat it is beyond my control.
\nSometimes I have to accept
\nthat I will be misinterpeted
\nand unfairly judged.
\nIt is a great weight off my shoulders.
\nI feel empowered.
\nI play my cards right.<\/p>\n
~~~<\/p>\n
We are close again, these days.
\nI don’t know what to make of it.
\nWe are far more responsible than self-aware than before.
\nWe’ve grown up quite abit since then.
\nIt will never be the same again, but why should it be?<\/p>\n
To be honest,
\nI’m not sure if we should even still be seeing each other.
\nWe’ll take it a step at a time and see where the wind takes us.
\nI am really tired and tempted to go home,
\nbut I decide to send her to where she has to go.
\nI know it will make her day. It does.
\nI would not have done that three years ago.
\nI surprise myself.
\nI play my cards right.<\/p>\n
I don’t know what to expect or hope for,
\nand I’m really quite fine with that.<\/p>\n
~~~<\/p>\n
I meet two different old friends on the way home,
\nand it is very pleasant. Everybody’s growing up.
\nI talk to yet another old friend on MSN when I get home.
\nIt is challenging, fulfilling and fairly entertaining.
\nI play my cards right.<\/p>\n
I end the day
\nwith an time-honoured ritual,
\nwith a trust-honoured friend.
\nSo with the comfort of familiarity
\nand the assurance of certainty;
\nThe day ends.<\/p>\n
I realise now, better late than never,
\nthat it doesn’t matter what hand I’m dealt.
\nSometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad.
\nBut it doesn’t matter in the end.<\/p>\n
All that really matters is that
\nI play my cards right.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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