Warm Shower

I took a long,

warm,

shower.

Ever so lately.

I sat there,

and watched,

the water flow,

down

me.

I was cold,

for a second,

or two,

and warm,

for three.

But I sat there still,

Movement-less,

Breath-less,

Brain-less.

I lacked,

Power.

I took a long,

warm,

shower.

Ian.

Sexually Ambiguous 2

Ian.

Sweet things

Ian

Sexually Ambiguous (Just like the letter.)

Ian

Chapter 19 - Mr. X

Today I felt confronted. A feeling I haven't felt for awhile.

In the state of serious confrontation.

It was someone that once was important to me, though, I can't say much about him now, seeing as he's only fallen deeper and deeper into his own delusions of a perfect world. He's Mr. X from the letter I wrote to Mrs. C.

You see, Mr. X and I go way back. I can still remember the day that he transferred to my high school. The clearest memory I have of him was one during Lunch. He was sitting on the opposite side of the table, in front of me, and was talking to random friends I used to sit with during lunch time. He was shy, he looked as if he were only comfortable with one singular other person, his best friend who transferred with him.

Mr. X's popularity grew in those 2 final years of high school. More than the regular person's. For some reason, his image of a person was well desired by teachers. He would more than once gain the "respect" of a teacher (note, I'm putting respect in satirical markers.) and he would then gain advantage over many other people.

Though, he was often oblivious to it.

You see, Dear Reader, Mr. X was once important in my life, for one singular reason. I was in love with him. I found his adorability and his charm irresistible. He looked as if he had so much innocence, a certain je ne sai quoi that's hard to describe. For the 2 years that he attended my High School, 2 years I spent madly in love with him.

I tried over and over again to get his attention back then. But to no avail. He would only ignore me. Thinking that just being my friend would encourage me to go for him. He was well aware that I liked him, and had no idea how to deal with it. He tortured me back then. I would feel nothing but agonizing pain everytime I saw him. I would start to cry sometimes, because I knew that, in this lifetime, he would never be with me.

I thought he was gay, I still do think he is gay. Given, I don't know someone's true sexuality. I also have mentioned how I felt that everyone of us fall under a spectrum of sexuality, instead of one solid one. But I argue that everyone has a preference, a level of fondness for one type of "thing" ("thing" is used simply because of the plethora of sexual relations out there.), and I argue, that Mr. X has a much higher preference for guys than he has girls. He simply deludes himself from it.

But there's no point in arguing that, though, arguing it is like trying to tell a wall that's pink underneath a layer of white that it's pink.

Though I liked him to an unhealthy point in my life. I have to dispute that Mr. X was imperfect. I was blinded a lot by love as a child, and now that my childhood is over, things have become clearer and clearer to me. Mr. X was a victim. Of society, and of the world. He was a victim like the vast majority of the public now. He buys into the delusions that community has set for him, and he abides by the guidelines. Only to go so far as to be an"anti-conformist-conformist" once in awhile, because he has been taught to be that way. He lacked individualism, something i truly respect and admire.

He was the generic archetype of a golden boy. He was popular, smart, good at sports, but I dare ague, he wasn't the best. In each of his categories, there were people who were far better that he was, that also inhabited the high school. But only he was recognized time and time again. Mr. X was the epitome of anti-conformism. All he understood about life was the fact that he shouldn't be like the general masses, and in that, he gained supremacy in all the above fields. But he wasn't the best. I shall never get over that, how I've seen deserving people not get what they want, simply because of how they look, or how they promote themselves. It's people like Mr. X who deprive majority of the world from fairness and equality. You dear reader, may argue otherwise. Either because you know me, or you know Mr. X. I would think that you, dear reader, who criticize me, and think, that I, of all people, are one of the most jealous people around. Whereas, Mr. X, is well deserving of his accolades, because he "worked" for them. But I don't speak in jealousy, dear reader, I speak, and type, what I feel and mean. I don't care what the general public, or you, dear reader has to say. I don't say things because they sound better or because it's generally well liked. I say things because they are the truth.

For those 2 years that I loved Mr. X, I've never failed in delivering my aid to him. At a point in time, I remember myself helping him with his english homework. Time and time again, though he seldom asked for it, I would offer my prowess in the english language, and he would gladly accept. I would also prepare him for his interviews, though, I don't know up till this point if he really needed my help, but I dare say that I acted as comfort for his anxieties. I liked the fact that he needed me, or at least as much as I've deluded myself into thinking. I would have done anything to have pleased him. I feel like a fool now, a complete and utter fool. For believing in an empty shell of a man. A person who's only true merit is in absorbing information like a sponge, a pathologically numb and unconscious person, who is hardly aware of his own being.

I took it a step further when I aided him in his idea to create an "all-boys cheerleading team" for our school. It was our senior year, and it was definitely never done before. I had already thought of the idea a few years prior, but just didn't dare to say anything, simply because I didn't have the human resources or connections to get a team going for myself. At that point, I had already been cheering in inter-school competitions a few years, and I knew enough about cheerleading. Despite that being true, I will never insist that I am a full-fledged professional. Mr. X decided to form a team. He had the resources , and was well enough liked by the general student body.

I remember the day he recruited me into the team. He just assumed I would be in, already counting me in before even asking me, simply because I was one of the only boys that have cheered years prior. He's more selfish than he thinks.

He was also the team leader, by default. The choice was none other than that of our dear dear Ms. F, whom I mentioned in the DECIDEDLY AMBIGUOUS LETTER. The "captains" of the team were, Mr. X himself, and 2 other people from the sports "house" as he was. All, under the digression of Ms. F, who was apparently hand-picked by someone to be in charge of the cheerleading teams. I objected to this immensely. I wanted to be captain, acutely bad. I thought it through for a couple of weeks, and I came to the realization that it would be pointless for me to be leader. If not for the fact that no one would like me enough to take me seriously, but the fact that stirring up controversy isn't exactly the best way to go when you aren't on the faculty's goodside.

So it was so. Mr. X remained as captain for the team. But I'm up to this day, still very sorry say that he was one of the worse captains I've seen, period. He didn't understand the ideals of obedience and practicality. He didn't understand the ideals of efficiency and integrity. He was way too close to the team. Being "buddy-buddy" with the people you're training isn't the worse thing on earth, however, one requires to realize the boundaries of this relationship. Mr. X, didn't understand this. He time and time again would be lenient towards his "buddies", causing a chain reaction, causing a fretful situation where everyone started to lollygag. I, being the motivated person I was, had to time and time again "suggest" that Mr. X started to round up the boys. Thankfully, it worked most of the time. He would look as if he just became alert, and start getting everybody to listen to him.

Then would come the times where the entire team just sat tight for an extra 20 minutes during practice. They would come to the spot, sit, talk, and dawdle for more time than we had. Mr. X wouldn't do anything but correspond to his cohorts. I again, then would have to "suggest" that Mr. X start the practice without wasting anymore time.

What I have done here, may seem insignificant. But if I had a penny for everytime I had to "suggest" something to Mr. X, I would by now, have many, many, pennies. In my perception, Mr. X did nothing more than become a figurehead for the team. He was no more than just an outlet for Ms. F to convey her messages, other than that, and creating the "logo" for the team, he was in all essences, pitifully useless. The coach did most of the work, actually, all of the work. Mr. X didn't do his part in making sure that everyone knew what to do, and did them at the exact moment in time. He didn't have the essence of the leader, he only did as he was told, and nothing that he did was of his own accord.

Dear reader, I am sure, at this point, you are ready to criticize me with the meanest of intentions. But let me just say, I am not being biased in anyway. Whatever I've said in this chapter, has been entirely ripped from my own perception of things. Given, the perception of human beings tend to distort as their beliefs change. But I assure you, dear reader, I have fully and thoroughly analyzed my follies as a human being and considered them in my Analysis. I give credit where it's due, and Mr. X, deserves none.

My point is, dear reader, that Mr. X has so far received everything he has on a silver platter. Sure, he most probably has "worked hard" at some point for something, but I am sure it was not of his own accord. It is the fault of the Malaysian education system. It's the way parents at a point in our lives tell us what to do, teach us to work hard, makes it compulsory for us to work hard. I didn't buy in to this, not at all. Every instance of which I've worked hard in the past was not one based off guilt or past learnings, but rather, of my own interest and will. It's hard to distinct between intentions for actions. But once again, dear reader, I assure you, I have considered all the variables, and Mr. X, is nothing but a bi product of a healthy gene pool and a vain society.

Today Mr. X confronted me on F-Book. (F-Book being a social networking site that has all the right in the world to condone to defamation, therefore, it's alias.). I posted my letter to the principle online, and he so happened to have read it. He was infuriated by the way I rationalized things. Mr. X has never respected me for the intelligent person I was, and am. Despite the fact that he has used my prowess in the past, never has he once admitted to my intellectual supremacy. I can't blame him, though, I didn't exactly the best academia back then.

He stated, in his complaint pertaining me, that I was immature for saying what I did. I did not give credit to every single person in the team, and everyone in team was given full credit for their effort. There are a few problems with his statement.

Firstly, he claims I'm immature. True, I may act like a 5 year old at times, but I am hardly one of that mindset. Simply because I advocate the ideal of individualism and disregard the beliefs of delusional individuals, does not mean I'm immature. It means I'm opinionated. It means, that unlike most people in this world, I have a shred of logic. Just because I make statements that turn a blind eye to Mr. X's paradigm of what's right and wrong, it doesn't mean I'm immature. To me, immaturity comes from being unable to back your claims. I agree with you dear reader, if you are thinking so, that the definition of immaturity may shift with a different perspective. But, I shall stay my claim on the fact that Mr. X is an extremely immature person, one for being unable to discern logic and fact, and in his lack of ability to make judgements based on his own true beliefs.

To be semantical is to read in between the lines of what is said. As the way Mr. X read into my letter in the pervious chapter. He thinks that I discredited the entire team; he "thinks" I'm claiming all the merit. But no, I am not, he is not me nor is he a psychologist, he does not know or understand what I think. I don't discredit them. I believe that the entire team deserves to be called winners because of how they did. But what I was saying in my previous letter, is that, if I didn't exist, the team wouldn't even have a chance of making it into the top 5 that faithful year. Just as I would say that without the amazing coach, we also would not have achieved 3rd place in nationals that year. But something else I was also saying, is that, in the absence, or the substitution of most of team that year, including Mr. X himself, the team would have survived, and would still stand a fair chance to snagging second runner up. It's not about how skilled you are, it's about how hard you work, or rather, how hard can a leader make you work. To me, not all of them were there full heart and soul, I felt like I was the only one that wanted to win and was ready to do something about it.

I wasn't given full credit for what I was worth in the team. I was the strongest one, the most determined one, the most flexible, the most experienced, (at that point, in the team, not more than any actual cheerleader.) and the most forgoing for the idea. I could easily not put in effort, pulled out, and they would not have made it that far. I would say there are some people in the team that were like me, but certainly not all of them; certainly not Mr. X.

Mr. X doesn't deserve my respect. Not anymore. He has time and time again misread what I have to say. If not that, he would time and time again base his ideals of his retarded incapable state of being. Put me and him in a scenario where you start with the same hand of cards, and see who would survive the longest? I argue that I would, simply because of my ability to cognate far better than he can.

I truly don't care anymore, if he is my friend, or not. He has disappointed me time and time again, even though I've tried so hard to teach him the best ideals in life. He disregarded them, all. If not that, he has used them only to his own benefit, and proceeded to hurt me over and over.

I asked Mr. X to escort me to the senior prom.

I brought a rose.

He looked at me, and said "Stop it Ian."

And walked away.

Today I felt confronted. To tell the truth, it was as if I was arguing with a 3 year old.

Ian.

Non, ce n'est pas une chapitre.

Random. NO, I do not have AIDS. Give it a moment, it moves.

Damn you Nat. Why did you ever have to discover the site. I'm hooked.

Ian.

Chapter RELAPSE

Excited, but in the most ironical sense. (Why do I look sinister?)

I find that I have a chapter in my 'pre-completed' book, that's very much so, worth reading. Not so much for it's value of literature, but rather because of it's significance in my current state. I think I owe it to myself and you, dear reader, to inform you of my very weird life.

Je vous présente, Chapter 16 de 'pre-completed book "100 days of a very uninteresting person' par Ian Tan

Wish

8th Jan 2010

Tonight I spent thinking. Not a lot about what’s going on in my life, but about the future that awaits me, and what surreal treasures await for me in it. I know I’m one to ruminate too much on his own future. I agitate up a flourish of fretfulness every time I do so. But I do it nonetheless, because it is what I desire; it is how I function.

I have recently met a boy, not in the most conventional of ways. It’s a path I would not thought I would have taken to meet a guy. I was on a website where you are able to host chats with random strangers throughout the world, nameless, identity less - you could be anyone you wanted, and it wouldn’t matter. All that hung in the balance was the belief that one had upon your words. Though, this belief usually too decrepit to mean anything.

I met a 15 year old girl on this site. I didn’t typically start the conversation like the site recommended. I didn’t say “Hi” when every new chat began, simply to break to monotony, and to present a more agreeable context in which others may find it not so hard to start conversing. I don’t remember what exactly I said to this 15 year old girl, but I’m sure I included the fact that I was a homosexual.

She was a weird girl indeed, weirder than most. She answered my questions in a very unforeseeable ways. Not typically what you expected from a 15 year old girl. I got sick of her though. If there is one thing i cannot stand whilst chatting with somebody, is a disrespect to keep in focus in the conversation, and focus your attention elsewhere.

I was about to press the disconnect button when she suggested something a little more out of the ordinary. “Would you like to talk to my gay friend?” she asked. Me, not knowing what to say, just said “Sure, I’ll talk to anyone.”. “He’s going through a rough time” she said. I took note. She gave me his messenger details, and I added him right after that.

It was 5 a.m. at this point. I was surprised that he was still online. We talked, it was awkward at first, but then he got a little more comfortable when I started to use more colloquial language. This, in comparison to the way I usually talk in chat rooms, where I talk more boldly, saying things i wouldn’t really say otherwise. The cyber world, weirdly enough, gives me a sense of power and authority. It provides me the clarity to think before I put my words down.

I think it’s because we’re just so out of reach; because we feel that no one out there can physically harm us. It is in this essence that we find it easy to be ourselves. We no longer need to put on a facade for the world to see. We can finally be allowed the chance to ignore social stigmas and ethics. This of course, for the people who truly submerge themselves into the four corners of the internet. Conversing with people they do not know, with strangers.

He was having problems with his family, school, and friends. I understood what he was going through. Though, I couldn’t sympathize, I empathized with his problems. It’s hard to understand someone else’s problem when you are not in their position. Though, the truth to the matter is that many of us don’t and can’t even empathize. Humans are ignorant beings, greedy to the last bone, only prioritizing self preservation.

We talked for about 3 hours. At the end of which, he gave me his phone number. I knew what I was getting myself into. If there’s one thing i learned in the past, it’s that forming bonds and relationships where the person is never there, is usually harder than one may think. Anxiety racks up even quicker than in a real relationship, plainly because you don’t have sex to diffuse the anxiety. Plus, in many cases we forget that that person is there. Out of sight, out of mind. We have to struggle to hold on to their presence, and when the person ever gets sick of you, getting rid of you is as easy as a delete button.

Me and him have been talking for days now. Texting each other incessantly. It always begins like this, when both parties are extremely into one another. Then comes the choppy reply sessions when one person is more into it than the other. This power shifts, or sometime it stays, making both parties doubt their being together even more.

I used to think that things like this would work. That you could simply be connected by the telecommunication system, and everything would be fine. That by some miracle of god, you could finally meet and fall madly in love with one another. I was wrong in the past, and I still don’t know why I’m making this mistake again.

I used to wish and wish, with all my might, that maybe one day I would be with that person I haven’t even met in real life. I used to dream about the romance and the love it would take to keep us together. Our lives in the end, and how insane it would be to tell people we met online. It would feel so surreal to have found love so pure, it would endure the test of distance.

I mean, part of me being gay was because I felt that it took more love and understanding than straight couples to stay together. I felt that, because of community and the taboo that has been stapled into our minds by the public, would make it that much harder for a guy and a guy to be with one another. I was wrong. As you’ve heard many times in your life dear reader, I assure you, this statement is all too true, all men want is sex.

That’s just like me. To want something so true. A love so deep that nothing cam wane it’s existence. I want the best of the best. I have always been like this. Though, I wish I weren’t. Even in high school I would aim to be at the top. I used to participate in a singing contest in high school. Even though I would always rank fairly well amongst the masses, (usually, 3rd place or 4th), and I would even congratulate the first place winner thoroughly, acting as if I was completely sincere. But I wasn’t, I hated it when someone was better than me. I still hate it today.

Maybe it’s time for me to wish for less. To not want something so spectacular, something that I can brag to everybody about. Maybe it’s time for me just to have a typical relationship, and see where that goes. No more nights of passion, and no more deep romance. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time for something normal.

I shall go on talking to the guy I’m talking to now. Fully aware of what awaits for me in the future. That slim, almost non-existent chance of me getting to finally meet him in real life. But I shall not build my life around him, I will not cast him as the one perfect lover in my life. I shall keep my options opened, for something normal, something, practical.

I might go see him though. If I had a chance. I do have to say, dear reader, that I am completely in love with the idea of visiting him during spring break. To fly over to a state that no one visits, and see if anything practical sprouts from there. If I wish hard enough, maybe that dream will come true.

But my wishes never really have come true. Since childhood, every time I wished on something, chances are, that wish doesn’t come true. Toys, occurrences, parties that I’ve wished on in the past have only ended up in vain. I lost faith in wishing a long time ago. Books like ‘the secret’ that explains to you metaphysical applications of wishing seem daft to me. The idea that you can wish for anything, and if you wished hard enough, that dream would come true. If things like that really did happen, and the universes would truly align itself to grant you your wish, then I would be the happiest man alive at this moment. I am not. That’s proof enough for me that ‘the secret’ is nothing but a scam for the logically weak. Even when the evidence presents itself in front of you, you’re too ignorant and selective to see the flaws in an idea.

Though, maybe I didn’t exactly get a good grasp of the concept of ‘the secret’. If you wish to do so, dear reader, you may now frantically criticize my views as you see fit.

But if you do agree with me to an extent, I do hope, that you will learn as I have, and not ever wish for anything. Dream, sure, but never hold on to something and build your life around it simply because of a flawed conception. Life is a road filled with unavoidable brambles, going through it blind makes it so much less painful. The best things I’ve gained in life are things I never expected would happen. Sometimes, doubt is much more powerful than confidence. So I won’t wish on you, my dear boy, maybe my doubt will bring us together.

Today I spent thinking. I thought about how life is a journey and you never get what you truly want. But that doesn’t mean that niceties don’t appear along the way.

End of Chapter

- - - - - -

And here I am now.

Still talking to him every single day.

It hasn't been very long.

But I can feel it in my bones.

He makes me happy,

and never sad,

and I know, I just know,

This is going,

Somewhere.

I think I love him.

Ian.

Chapter 18 - Letter to the Principal

Today I thought about writing a letter, to a certain somebody that has ruined my life.

Stressed out of my mind.

It was to a certain principal of a certain school that I might have certainly attended back in the day. I thought about how she was nothing more than, in the most hypocritical sense, a fake ass bitch. Sure, some may argue that she isn't, but I can assure you dear reader, underneath her thin layer of skin, there lies nothing but a daft, ugly woman. One who is oblivious to her biases; one who doesn't understand the true matter of situations. It's been one too many times that I've wanted to write this letter, but never got the chance to. Mainly because she held, in her hand, much of future. She could as easily as say "Expelled" and I would not be here in America right now. Though, thanks to my prowess in avoiding her ideals, and avoiding her as an actual person, I somehow managed to pull of this feat.

Without further ado, here's the letter I wrote, but of course, with aliases, so as to not "defame" anyone.

Dear Mrs. C

I cannot sleep tonight. For something has been bothering me. A 'thing' that has been left hanging on the walls of my brain ever since my departure from (Name of High School). There has been too many things that has been left unsaid, simply because you held a fair amount of power to ruin my life. Seeing as how you no longer posses said power, or are in any position to do anything about what I say, unless of course, in the act of public defamation, I shall address to you my discontent with you and 'your' school.

First of all, I find your biases atrocious. They disgust me to the very end. This of course, is not limited to the fact that you have denied my brother entry to the school several times. Despite my mother's persistent attempts to enroll him in 'your' school. On that matter alone, I can imagine of one too many things wrong with that scenario. And please do refrain from claiming that there wasn't any space in your "prestigious" school for my younger brother. I have more than one singular trustworthy source telling me otherwise.

I'm sure you'll have your arguments, on why you would not let my brother in. Of the many, I'm sure that one of them includes a 'brother-brother' relation effect. I am nothing less than certain that you thought my brother would turn out like me. Given, my brother isn't a very pleasant person, but neither are 75% of (Name of High School)'s student body. Though, this isn't necessarily proclaiming that 75% of your proud students are consisted of nothing but the dumb and the unweary. My brother is not like me, and if you have thought that in the past, shame and you and your blatant biases. You have time and time again accepted rich, spoilt brats into your school, much of which would not even be comparable to my brother. Please don't even attempt to deny this fact, I've seen it every single year, children who have the slightest respect for anyone around them; children who run around throwing their money away on the unintelligible things; children, that are truly not even worthy of my respect. You have confounded the school with accepting such students, and instead, ignoring students such as my brother, a child who's playful at heart, and rich in sincerity.

"But, those students are only like that on the surface, they come to (Name of High School) to learn and grow." I hear you say. To be honest, I've only seen kids like that grow from bad to worse, if not anything, disastrous. You did not have a singular valid reason in rejecting my dear brother from the school. He now has to be driven 45 minutes away from home, to another private school, (Because of my kind, good hearted mother, god bless her for thinking about her children's growth.) Because of your ill-mannered biased partisan decision making skills. It sickens me.

Furthermore, lets not forget about the fact that you have so far oppressed me and the entire student body in several ways. One of the better examples I can think of is back then when you forced me to remove certain content from my blog, because they were "incoherent with your beliefs" and "defamatory" even though I placed a disclaimer and disregarded the actual person's name. In this, you have not only enraged me to the tenth power, but you have also oppressed my right to express. The only reason why I acted in accordance was the fact that you held a large stake in my future, if you hadn't, I would not have even bothered to listen to you. You are no better than a tyrant, a fascist of sorts who uses instruments of "rules" to carry out your agenda. It astonishes me, if there are people like you in the Malaysian education system, what hope is there left for the future of Malaysia.

If it wasn't for my self-belief and persistence to become someone of use to this world (as my mother has taught me). I would have turned out like the other pathetical Malaysians of which I call my peers. Though, this does not include the people who actually posses a high level of caliber in this world, such as Ms. G, or Ms. LL. Their intelligence and will, like mine, have far surpassed your ability to oppress, and in that has not only conquered but overwritten your power to control us. It is people like them I respect, hardly people like you.

But this isn't about them. It's about the way you manipulate free will to your liking. It repulses me greatly. To think that someone like you who is in the midst of a - let's say "high ranking" - job could hardly control her humanistic hedonisms. It astonishes me that a person could lack so much finesse in life, so little digression, and so little logic. You are hardly one who is deserving of your job.

Let me just say, that, this e-mail, in all sense, is not personal. I don't hate you as a person, rather the way you handle things. Crudely, in most situations, taking away freedom from deserving children, allowing students who hardly deserve accolades to receive accolades. People like Mr. X, (I'm sure you remember him.) that are entirely less skilled than most of my peers have received one too many awards in his high school career. Much of which, I believe, to be owed to the way he looks and acts, instead of his actual ability. Despite that being true, I cannot fully blame you upon said matter. It was of course, the fault of teachers like Ms. F who lack more prowess in decision making than you do.

I cannot, in plain english words, describe how much I loathe Ms. F. Though, as I said earlier, this isn't personal, but my reflection of her immature behavior. I think that many adults, even in the grasp of high levels of knowledge, lack maturity, do you agree? I at least think you succeed in that department, you can easily fool anyone into thinking that you are of high intelligence, but I assure you, it is in that that you lack. Perhaps not knowledge based intelligence, but definitely a large deprivation in interpretive intelligence (I.Q., so to speak.). Ms. F, however, is the epitome of the Malaysian society, selfish, illogical and downright hare-brained. She bases her decisions on her "feelings", more so than you, sadly enough, and hardly gives chances to people who truly deserve it. This is your fault, because you lack the ability to promote deserving teachers to high rankings, students, that are well deserving of many things, only find it harder to reach their goals. In addition, they also conjure up a form of detestation for their teachers. Very unhealthy, I assure you.

I don't think you know this. But a large part of the [name of varsity all-male varsity cheerleading squad]’s win during my senior year was largely based upon my digression. You see, cheerleading is a sport at high school level, not necessarily in need of "skill", but definitely in need of hard work and efficiency. If it weren't for my constant pestering towards Mr. X, the [name of varsity all-male varsity cheerleading squad] would hardly have even scraped the top 5 that year. I was the one that picked up the slack over and over again, and was given no credit. Though, that isn't the point. The point is, that, the year after that, when I tried to go back and help the new team reach their goals, I was only shunned by Ms. F, and asked to leave the premises, even though I had their best interest at heart. You see, if you had promoted a more, witty and observant teacher, a person like me, who has strived hard from the very start, and willing to go unnoticed, would not have to remain and un-awarded and unsung as far as his image in High School goes.

I digress. I shall also remind you of the many times you have over-dramatized my wrong doings. Simply because you have labeled me as a "bad student" doesn't mean that I am one, or ever were one. There is no doubt that your harshness towards students you perceived of as "bad", this I have observed from my unfortunate predecessors. I don't feel like any student should be on your "bad-side", in hopes that hardly anyone ever gets biased punishments or scolding. I'm sorry to say this, but I feel your methods are unworthy of a principal, and there are much better ways to handle situations. People like you tend to only advocate positive punishments, and it is in that, that I call you, Mrs C, jejune. Do find better amplitudes and methods, if not for my peace of mind, but for the students that will come after me.

I am not going to say that, because of your oppression, and (Name of High School), I turned out as a better student that I would have otherwise. I am, however, going to argue that you, and (Name of High School) (your creation and contextualization) has damaged my growth tremendously. Of course, being the reasonable person I am, I cannot forgo such claims directly with a lawsuit of sorts. But I can however, send you an e-mail regarding my detestation for you, Ms. F, and (Name of High School). In this, I hope you have an epiphany of how much needs changing, and how you should change them. Because, a students growth largely rests upon the hands of their principal.

In a nutshell, use your head and logic, instead of your egregious intuition and draconian-like gut. You are paid a high salary not because of your sub-par intelligence, but the requirement of a manager.

I know I hold no authority to be e-mailing you this. But it is something that has been in the back of my mind ever since leaving high school. Vengeance of some sort. Despite that, I'm sure that you'll deny the anxiety this e-mail has caused you, simply to comfort your ego. But believe me, every word I am saying, or writing, or typing or have created, are simply perspective of a very real person. Someone who understands the protocols of life and how it is to be carried out, unlike you, I am not in any sense anfractuous.

There are many flaws in your system. As I sit here now, sitting in front of the screen, thinking about the past. The flaws simply start to multiply by tenfolds. But of course, if i were to write you a full length letter, my worry remains that it may turn into a short novel. There is much more to me than you think, Mrs C., academia and "co-curricular activities" are not the only ways to judge a person. You, have undoubtedly become blinded to my insight and intelligence.

With this, I leave you with a word that may save the souls of my fellow students.

Introspection.

I hope you have a good day, and if you do manage to get this far into the letter, I congratulate you in taking into account the feelings of others, just one step closer into becoming a logically profound human being, though, you stray far from it at this very moment.

I bid you adieu and goodnight.

Ian Tan.

You, dear reader, are of course welcomed to criticize me in any way you like. But I will stand my ground on what I've mentioned in the letter. I shall send it tonight, for there is still editing to be done. It simply doesn't look harsh enough.

Ian.

Chapter 17 - Naive Bitch

Today I decided something. To completely and utterly stop writing my book. Simply because I don't have the time and consistency to keep up with updating it everyday. Though, I realize this isn't favorable to my future, I feel that It's best that I concentrate in

school rather than writing 1-3 thousand words a day.

Despite that, I've decided that I shall update my blog more frequently. Hopefully in the style of which I wrote my book. Everything shall begin with a "Today I.." or "Tonight I.." because that forces me to think of a topic to write on. I may drift, endlessly, but that doesn't matter. Nothing really does anyway.

I shall also be posting a picture of myself everyday. Just because I have an awesome macbook and everyone else who doesn't have one sucks to the 10th power. I used to be skeptical upon the macbook abilities. But was I proven wrong when I got one. It's so far been the best 1600 USD I've spent of my parents money.

Don't smirk at me, dear reader. I know it's not very hard for you to be prejudice against me for spending my parents's money. I'm sure, that more than one of you out there will and are going to comment on how I'm entirely lazy and lucky because I don't have the ability or will to produce my own money. To an extent, that is very true. But then again, just because I have not been generating my own finances does not mean that I lack the prowess to find a good job.

I hate that notion. The idea that anyone spoilt doesn't have the ability to find a job. I'm certain at this point in my life, that much of this doubt comes from the anxiety of the poor. People who are bitter and sour from being dealt a bad hand in life. Thinking that they are superior whence compared to me or anyone that doesn't need to work hard for their money.

Arguably, yes. I would agree that a large majority of people who were spoilt as children, or never worked a day in their lives will lack a sense of reality in this world. Me, not being one of them. I, would like to point out that I, Ian Tan, Deviate strongly from the typical bunch of spoilt kids. I posses a much stronger will to live and work than most people. I would also argue that there are more than one of my kind. There are people out there, spoilt children, who hardly lack the prowess to succeed in life. People who are comparable to the people who "strived" to reach where they are today.

Though, that doesn't go to say that I lack respect for people who've worked hard in the past. But I will hold my stand on the idea of "spoilt children" forever more being unable to survive without a free source of cash. Because, that is a blanket statement. An extremely prejudice and jejune way to satiate one's own anxieties upon life.

However, I cannot say that I haven't met my fair share of spoilt children. I did go to a private school back in Malaysia. A Malaysian private school that boasts awe-inspiring facilities. That school molded me into the person I am today. Despite that being true, I have always and will always hate that school for not giving me the stepping stones I require to reach higher places. The accolades and ideal prizes have always been awarded to those who are most undeserving. People who didn't necessarily deserve them, but obtained them nonetheless due to how they look and the overall image they project. If I had a penny for everytime an award was given to a socio-pathologically retarded/disabled person, I, at this point in my life, dear reader, would be an extremely rich man.

For example, I knew this girl once. She has a pretty popular blog that I can't seem to find out why exactly remains popular. She used to look up to me as an idol of sorts, constantly praising my voice and how she wants to study me and learn my techniques. It was back in highschool when that happened. I though we were extremely good friends, even if it was on the surface level. At some point in time, about 4 months ago, I asked if she would help me with my music career by featuring one of my videos on her blog. A "plugin" if I may suggest, is the word. But she denied me. She completely and entirely turned me down. At first she agreed, though. She said she would. But as like many ethic-deprived child out there, she didn't hold to her word.

I confronted her a few months ago. Arousing her greatest fears and how she's never perfect. I like it when people put up a strong front, when I know that I'm breaking them down inside. Removing every last piece of their self confidence. Having them unknowingly die inside. People who constantly stay in denial, but yet show signs of distraught are my favorite kind. She was of that kind. She kept disregarding what I had to say to her online, but yet, she couldn't stop talking to me. In fact, the frequency of her replies increased as I repeatedly insulted her competency. I then threatened her in the end, telling her "just you wait." Though, I didn't do anything, that fear was suffice to say, my revenge.

People like her - lets give her a name Ms. CT. Simply to avoid defamatory laws - disgust me. People like her are the people who will never survive in this world. She's very rich. She's one of the people who cannot seem to not obtain an accolade from my said ex-private school every year. She's younger than me, and she shall forever remain more naive than me. However, dear reader, you are entitled your own opinion.

Oops, look, a link, to somewhere!?

Though, there are people that I know will succeed in life, despite their wealth. Natalee Tan, my ex-best friend simply exemplifies this. She's never really worked for the money she uses. Be that as it may, I still remember her telling me how she has worked for a short period of time in the past, for her dad, no less. Despite that, she never really worked a day in her life. She doesn't know the twists and turns of job hunting, or anything of the sort. But by her character alone, I know, as spoilt as she may be, she has an extremely bright future. She does things that people like Ms. CT would never do, she steps out of the box and doesn't mind being real every once in awhile. She's not plastic. Not at all. Even if she is, she will never be anything even remotely close to Ms. CT.

Plastic. I spit on you.

Some of you may very well think, I am writing this out of spite. To tell the truth, yes I am writing this out of a slight spite for Ms. CT. She doesn't have any respect for her friends, and in turn, many of the people she thinks are close to her do not even truly like her. I've talked to so many of her friends, and they all agree with me that they would prefer nothing more than to punch Ms. CT in the face and cuss upon her the cruel words she deserves.

You.

Are.

Useless.

Because it is the truth. However much of an Icon she has become. She will never attain the level of maturity of many of us. Her body will grow, but her mind will remain that of a child. Unless she learns and repents for her wrong doings. Though, I don't hope for anything of the sort from her. I'd really rather preferred that she simply disappears from the face of the earth. It is people like Ms. CT that inspire me to a misanthrope.

misanthrope |ˈmisənˌθrōp; ˈmiz| (also misanthropist|misˈanθrəpist|)

noun

a person who dislikes humankind and avoids human society.

I won't deny that I'm naive. I am, in most of aspects of life. But I atleast, I understand that I know nothing. I don't push the fact that I make use of frivolous ideals. I don't push the fact that I have so much money I can buy clothes and "inspire" others to buy them too, with my extremely plastic blog. I don't push the fact that I'm tenfolds more lucky that the average person.

I hope Ms. CT, at some point in her life, realizes how little she knows in this world. I hope that maybe one day, her parents's money depletes and she's left with nothing. For unlike people like me or Natalee Tan, the only thing she'll ever learn is how to point a camera and shoot in the right places. Though, photography may be a lucrative career, the only pictures she'll ever be taking are vain ones that even the most shallow of people will find amateur.

Today I decided something. Despite that 'something' being some insignificant. That 'something' is some thing that people like Ms. CT will never decide or achieve in life. And in that, I feel pity for people like her.

Ian.