The High Tide

Well I haven’t blogged all week so might as well give an update of things that have happened; albeit not overlooking that the last few weeks of my life have been oddly upsetting for me. Anyway before that let’s re-cap the week:

 

Tuesday we had our uni info days. It was a split journey between UTS, UNSW and USYD. Each uni was offering free food of some sort. The talks at UNSW were quite boring and surely nothing new that we needed to hear. Tuesday was a waste of time because we weren’t going to change our preferences anyway so maybe it was merely an excuse to get out of the house. At least we had free food, where Matt and Yit kept stealing drinks: bottled tea which wasn’t so nice. And we also saw some familiar faces, some Ruse people, Esther and other people from our school.

 

Afterwards we decided to go net cafe. We went back to City Hunter because we knew it had the better computers but the service was shit. Nevertheless we spent the afternoon playing, a bit less of schooling from me which was good to see; which means everyone has still got potential. Anyway long story short, after gaming I got charged again for an extra 50c for going 1 minute over. Seriously, f*** these Mando c***s; we asked them to tell us when time was up. Oh but no, just wait for 1 min over and ask for more money. Gosh, such a rip off. A few other people faced the same situation as me but they argued and got away. I wasn’t in the mood for their bulls*** so I didn’t bother.

 

But on this note, there are net cafes that aren’t like this. Some net cafes rigged their systems so they kill your computer when time runs out, which is perfect, exactly what we need. That way there’s no fear of going over time and paying extra. The only reason City Hunter does it their way is so that people who want to stay longer won’t get disconnected halfway through, which is respectful but let’s come down to the huge issue: Lots of people in this world HAVE LIVES! No-one will be f***ing sad enough to game all night long in a f***ing net cafe. Seriously if they were they’d rather do it at home where they can “remove their waste products” in the leisure of their own home.

 

Oh well. Bottom line is, if we go there again either we be extra careful and sacrifice a few extra minutes (because we’ll be checking to see if we go overtime) or to simply not pay extra ever and walk away. Come to think of it, if we go for the first alternative we should get a 50c minimum refund, considering they have the nerve to charge us 50c for 60 measly seconds.

 

Okay come Wednesday, no wait forget that. Let’s go back to Tuesday night. On Wednesday we were planning on going to Karaoke in the city, with more gaming. I come home after net cafe on Tuesday and the first thing I hear from my parents is: “You can’t go out tomorrow because you need to get your passport ASAP.” My passport thing was a background issue at the time I thought. I had plenty of time to get it before going to Hong Kong next month. The thing I hated was that my parents said I had to go on Wednesday because I desperately needed it. And  I’ll admit I was excited about karaoke because I haven’t been in a long time. My parents knew I was going on Wednesday. What about Thursday? Oh no that’s way too late apparently. So they found it in their best interest to f*** up a day I was looking forward to; great parents huh?

 

What’s more, I didn’t  see why they managed to leave my passport until the very last moment; this wasn’t like them. And yet whatever the reason was for their delay, I was to pay for their mistakes. Slight injustice here. Why am I paying for their incompetence? Sure it’s my responsibility; just tell me to take care of it and I would’ve finished the application ages ago. So it would seem my Wednesday plans were ruined and I’d be getting that feeling of being left out which totally messes me over nowadays.

 

But thank God because somehow the event got cancelled for some reason or another and I suppose luckily things fell into place. Though one can’t help but think it may have been passively my fault for not being able to make it in the first place; never mind,, it’s complicated mechanics here. But anyway come Wednesday I had to organise everything to desperately get my passport. I called the passport office up and guess what? I was not eligible to receive my passport urgently; what a f***ing waste of my time and frankly if Wednesday’s plans had gone through, I would’ve missed out in vain because of my parents mistake again. It’s still a month before I leave and you need to leave within 3 weeks to receive your passport on urgent notice. I just needed to get it the normal way. And so I went down to the post office that afternoon to hand in the forms;just to get it over and done with. And guess what? The photos my dad took were no good. I could not believe it, a third incompetent act on my parents’ behalf. This is ridiculous. Apparently my glasses were crooked (and they are) and they partially covered my eyelids. My dad wasted a lot of my time beforehand taking passport photos and all that effort for naught; I just couldn’t believe how much of my time they’ve actually wasted just for a simple passport. My mum took me to a camera shop nearby and we had the photos re-done for $10 and 15 minutes; that’s all it f***ing took, but my dad’s so arrogant he thinks he can do it himself; guess he couldn’t.

 

I still hadn’t finished lodging in my form yet. We needed a third person to sign the photo to authenticate it. Kenneth Leung our church minister was the person we selected and so the fourth hassle was that after dinner I had to pop down to church and get his signature; he was at church conducting an adult’s Bible study. Man, to just walk in and interrupt him; lucky I arrived early. And then a final bit of trouble was having to wake up early on Thursday morning to re-lodge my application. And all that effort which was unnecessary but stupid parents obviously make you do stupid things huh?

 

Friday our youth group was meant to have a get-together and so something social. I was going to organise sports at a park although the weather seemed bleak on the day. But the thing was that no-one came or wanted to come. They all had plans or something. And it just s***s me to see my plans fall apart like that. Last time when we did SingStar that was a fair success and suddenly I get this crap from everyone and no-one turns up except the kids in year 6-7 who I’m supposed to be the leader of for this year when they graduate to our side. So somehow I guess God may have set this up so I could get to know my group but that’s sort of hard since I’m in this fleeting state at the moment. And to make things worse I’m organising ice skating for next week and already I have a lot of negative feedback with people not coming. It just s***s me over when things fall apart and it looks to be my fault. I rather not try with everyone “having plans” or whatever s*** excuse they want to give me.

 

And on this topic church today brings back memories of the bad weeks I’ve had there; it seems they’ve been bad for some consecutive weeks now; after a chain of good weeks which contrasted largely with nowadays. Hmm, all this time I’ve been thinking of changing churches. I’ve always wondered if I ever belonged with those people and frankly I remember more weeks where I don’t belong than those where my place was with them. I had plans to move of course, incomplete plans. I’m sure Livingstone would easily let me in but yet I was held back by the fact I “abandoned” them after AWANA got disbanded at the end of primary school. But had Mandy recovered enough to go to church, I would’ve gone with her and then I would’ve have hopefully lifted the problem. But I guess I’m stuck now, no hope of getting away. I’m bound by service to my church in that it’d be rude to just walk away; and still my plans to move are incomplete.

 

But nowadays I do feel  inadequate for service. I barely hold any place amongst the people there; no-one talks to me. And you’d think that somehow I would need to be bigger man and initiate the conversation and all. Oh but with how f***ed up I am these days that’s something I fear; dam anti-social fear. So they won’t talk,I won’t talk, we’re caught in a stalemate then,yeah? Simple. And it really makes me wonder how strong I am as a Christian anymore; it’s no longer within my mind to encourage everyone else in Christ, it seems to be the other way now; that is to say it should be the other way, though nothing actually happens.

 

But on that note of feeling weak I am nearly clueless at why I’ve been feeling so s*** these days, why I’ve seemed to reach “the high tide” of my days. It happened a while after HSC finished and somehow maybe it will fade when uni starts. But somehow I suspect it’s been caused by my hope in other people. I guess I was always told to try and let other people “help” me which does seem logical but something always told me that no-one can. And thinking back on these last few weeks; it seems I was right even though I wanted to try and see.

 

I suppose the support I received from people I tried to confide in was nice but somehow it seems far from anything that can "help me. What I’ve come to dislike is the mere use of words where action was more appropriate. I guess for everyone it’s always nice to hear words like: “Hey I’m here for you, man.” But in the end, words are words and they don’t do anything. Well they can if they come in the form of reasoning and all. But I really don’t like hearing that s*** about people “saying” they want to help me because it means jack s*** to me. You cannot voice a feeling through words. True feelings come from the heart and unfortunately we are human and we cannot see the heart. God can, that’s cool, but we can’t.

 

But perhaps the fault lies with me. Perhaps I had expected too much of the people around me. I guess I assessed their potential based on feelings rather than thinking logically what they can do that’s practical. Having that feeling that someone is able to catch anytime and anywhere is nice but one needs to stop and think whether the person can actually pull it off. I suppose the same applies for me. I guess I need to learn to be a practical friend as well, as soon I can get rid of this s*** feeling in me. But yeah  I want to believe that the people around me can offer more than mere words and I still do. But perhaps the time is not right to expect something so much from them. And it lies in my fault to raise my hopes so high based on a feeling which could not be transformed into actions.

 

So all in all I would be living in the time of broken hopes and these days I’ve been trying to shoulder all of that burden on my own again now, since trying to share it was a big mistake. So once again I stand alone and I probably need some time on my own to get that concept back into my system; to give up that hope and embrace that despair, it’s called reality. Luckily I have a trip to Hong Kong next month with just my mum. No distraction from technology, a fair amount of isolation; a good chance to recuperate.

 

Waiting for the high tide to settle down now.

Bananas in Pyjamas

This is a random example of how the adult mind thinks too much into things, whereas children accept things at face value. Today we take the popular children’s cartoon/drama “Bananas in Pyjamas” into consideration.

 

Children probably never think about it, but if you saw a giant walking, talking banana in the streets, what would be your reaction? Man I’d be scared s***less if I saw something like that. And forgot just one of them, there are two walking and talking giant bananas; these can already be somewhat horror-movie characters. The innocence in children is somewhat blissful to the point that two giant bananas wearing pyjamas are not the least bit weird to them.

 

An adult could look deeper into these two characters. Noting that these giant walking and talking bananas wearing pyjamas have arms and legs, one would think it only possible through some sort of mutation. And then considering their names “B1” and “B2” probably suggests they were created in a laboratory by some third party undisclosed in the cartoon, as if there might be a production line of mutated walking and talking bananas wearing pyjamas that have arms and legs. And of course then you have their odd shape. Since when did bananas grow long and straight in a way that almost resembles a…yeah… “that thing”?

 

Looking closely at their personalities, it’s already strange to note that the bananas are always wearing their pyjamas. Are they pov? No, take a look at the first line of the theme song:

 

“Bananas in pyjamas are coming down the stairs,”

 

If the bananas can come down the stairs then it does suggest their own at least a two-story house. So clearly these two bananas aren’t  exactly pov and we can credit their weird habit of always wearing pyjamas as a psychological issue. That’s okay, maybe giant walking and talking bananas with arms and legs have this sort of problem. And in a society like ours maybe we need to learn to accept their problems, although there is the problem that giant walking and talking bananas really do make you go: “Wtf?!”

 

Let’s take the next line of the song:

 

“Bananas in pyjamas are coming down in pairs,”

 

One of my friends once wrote that if Edward and Alphonse from Full Metal Alchemist weren’t brothers, they’d make an ideal gay couple. Taking this case, what would the relationship of the bananas be described as? Maybe production line partners, if they’re mutated by the pair. And then thinking carefully again the genders of the bananas aren’t really specified. If you ignore the actors, “B1” and “B2” don’t really tell you whether they’re male or female, and nor can you tell their gender by their sex organs, if bananas in fact do have any." But on the whole it is possible to say that the bananas are like a couple, whatever their gender may be.

 

"”Bananas in pyjamas are chasing teddy bears,”

 

It’s clear the bananas have some sort of “teddy bear fetish”, why else are they chasing them? This isn’t like a dog hunting down a possum or anything, this is mere chasing and as we’ve seen many times the bananas never really do kill the bears, just merely catch them and well you can only guess what happens off-screen if the story did continue off-screen.

 

And on the topic of teddy bears, let’s turn our focus onto the three bears in the cartoon. We have Amy, Lulu and Morgan, two females and a male. Amy is a white bear, Lulu and black bear and Morgan a sort of Anglo-saxon looking bear. Hmm, rather strange again that you’d have three bears of various ethnic backgrounds to live in the same house. Again one can only guess what the three bears get up to as well.

 

But one does wonder why the bears never actually try to file a law suit against the bananas for sexual harassment. Like seriously:

 

“’cos on Tuesdays they all try to catch them unawares!”

 

The bears are putting up with the same bulls*** every week from the bananas; being “chased” and then harassed. Unfortunately there isn’t much choice than to read “chasing” as a sexual connotation. And with their cul-de-sac named “Cuddles Avenue” there’s more than enough evidence to suggest unethical sexual practices take place in such a weird place. Frankly I wouldn’t want to have neighbours “chasing” me every Tuesday; why do the bears stand up to these shenanigans? Of course maybe the bears want to be chased which makes them just as bad as the bananas having their weird fetish. There’s no need to expand on this I think.

 

And finally we turn to our last character “Rat in a Hat”. First off again you get the reaction: “WTF?! It’s a giant purple talking rat!" KILL IT!” Which is why we now see giant novelty size mouse traps these days. Obviously again the Rat in a Hat is another product of mutation, both in size and colour. And clearly his hat is not important because it’s just there to make it rhyme. They could’ve always named him the “Rat with a Bat” with obviously that leads to a trigger-happy character which is not suitable for children. But the hat hardly has any significance nonetheless.

 

The rat as we all remember is a scam artist; running a store with shotty products and also various services that simply cheat the bananas their money (not that they need it since they already have a two-story house). But perhaps the rat is a character which can easily be read because there’s nothing hidden in him, he’s simply a fag.

 

So there you have it. A cartoon that isn’t exactly the same as it used to be once you put your adult mind into it; and once again there is evidence for the statement “ignorance is bliss’”.