The truth behind the terrible “Be Yourself Day” (part i)

Yes yes, I am going to talk about the Be Yourself Day soon, and no it is not terrible. I just wrote that so that you will read this. Teehee. 😀

Today was a sincerely horrible day.

No, seriously.

To begin with, I had this really really extremely -inserts vulgarity- painful stomach ache after I came home from school, which I suspect is because of the food from school. Why? I ate the lunch my mum bought me and right after, I had stomach ache, and I thought that the lunch cannot be digested so fast anyway. So to whoever that is so unhygenic that actually gave me this really horrible stomach ache that required my to sit in the stifling embrace of my toilet for half an hour, I hate you and hope that you get reborned in your next life as an ugly prickly cactus in the Gobi desert with no one but smelly camels for company. Ugh.

Being the whiner I am, I contemplated lodging a complaint to the health board for the unclean food I consume, but I suppose they might take the school side and the conversation between us may turn out like this:

HB: hmmm, so Kira, what happened?
Me: I ate the unhygenic food at school and got a freaking stomach ache that was so bloody painful that I thought my womb detached itself.
HB: Hmm I see (no obviously they don’t, what are they seeing anyway? my fallen womb?), how can you be sure that is is not you who is unhygenic?
Me: Are you trying to imply that I eat with my toes? Or that I lick my fingers like an ice-cream? Or that I eat my food from the floor?
HB: =amused= no no, I am saying if you washed you hands the right way…
Me: I don’t eat with my fingers.
HB: Yes, =in a patient, “you-are-so-dumb-but-I-am-kind” tone= but germs can travel?
Me: From my toes to the food?
HB: No no, unless you eat with your toes.
Me: Precisely what I am trying to say. I don’t eat with my toes, therefore it is not my problem.
HB: =suddenly confused by my warped argument= you seem to be right! I shall call the vendors to make them close down
Me: And I demand a conpensation for my fallen womb.
HB: Your womb detached?
Me: Yes! And my placenta too.
HB: How could that be?
Me: You were the one who said germs travel. They probably pulled both my womb and placenta down.
HB: Oh dear, my poor child! You shall get a compensation of one zillion dollars for your expensive womb.

MUHAHHAHAHHA and that is when  I freaking strike it rich. I will probably buy myself a humongous bunglow and a large piece of land so that my mum can plant all the turnips that she wants. No, kidding. I hate turnips so I will order for them to be all kicked to Korea for the Korean kimchi, and nothing else. Then I will buy Sophia a Ferrari and a bunglow next to mine, and we will get a chauffeur to drive us to school. 😀 And we can hire awesome tuition teachers to help us with work. And the bunglow will be near Nanyang so Sophia doesn’t have to travel so far. And I shall buy He Chen and Huiqi, Luowen and Chin Shian a Omega watch each because they are such awesome pistachios. 😀 Yes yes that is how life should be. By the way, everyone hates turnips and will thank me when they are gone from our country. Who likes stinky turnips anyway! Apart from the fragrant Koreans. And the nice kimchi. Sighs. Koreans will love me because they will have this endless supply of smelly turnips to make nice kimchi, and I will be touted as the turnip killer, and every Singaporean will love me yay.

But carrots will hate me and call me a racist against the white turnips. Oh dear. Maybe I will keep one turnip to make all the carrots happy.

Okay enough of the dim-witted carrots and smelly turnips. More about today.

Anyway, I lost a lot of energy throughout the holidays, meaning my stamina is no longer so good and I got really tired by Physics the second last lesson. I really paid attention today and Hoila, I understood one question in Physics which made me wonder if I might really be Einstein’s long lost descendent after all. Or maybe Newton’s grandgrandgrandxinfinite child who got lost somewhere and bleached Asian. Quite fun to muse like this to myself teee. Keeps me amused. 😀

Okay, about the horrid BYD.

It should be renamed as Be Your Class day. Or Be Whatever-rubbish-you-are-assigned Day. Be yourself? Nah, we are just kidding.

It is supposed to be quite fun actually, but I have come to realize that I have, and neither had anyone else really been their self on BYD. Serious. Being yourself is about being different, being you and uniquely you. Instead our school wants us all to find a theme and no less, and all fit around that theme. How is it yourself when you are never something but tries to be that thing just to be that thing? You get what I mean? It is definitely not be yourself day. If we try so hard to be the same within one class, then it is no longer ourselves, you get it? It is just, just ironical.

Why?

BYD is usually the day I feel least like myself.

Since this year our class got grunge as the theme, and sadly, whatever clothes Ziqi and Vivian listed out, I don’t have them.

Checkered red shirt? Nope.
Chains? Nope.
Black baggy shirt? Nope.
Leather jackets (O_O)? Nope.
Long boots? Nope!

Why would anyone in the right state of mind buy something like LONG BOOTS in a sweltering hot country Singapore? As though our feet don’t sweat enough or smell bad enough. So we need long boots to ferment our feet longer to make feet juice. Yuck.

Leather jacket? Nah. I mean denim jackets are hot enough, and leather is just another whole level. And maybe those out there who actually have leather jackets find me dumb because leather might not be as hot as I think. But whatever. Why are you wearing leather anyway? Trying to mimic an alligator? >:D

And NO I DON’T POSSESS A BLOODY CHECKER SHIRT. I don’t really wear red. And I don’t like checkered stuff. Anyone who knows my style of dressing knows that I like stripes. Like black and white strips. No checkeredness unless you are playing checkers. Sorry. Bad jokes with the Knight.

Yes. Back to my point about being totally, not myself, you get it. Myself would be something like digging out anything that I feel like wearing/ suitable for that day’s weather and wearing it. Then wearing comfortable sneakers or slippers. NO HEELS. NO FLATS. FLATS ARE SO !#$%^&*(&^& UGLY. AND NO BOOTS, boots give you ring worms. Nah, just kidding.

What is PDA?

Yes yes, I know, for those who just came out from your mother’s womb yesterday, PDA is Public Display of Affections. And no, it has nothing to do with PDF.

There was this couple who were sitting in front of the considerably annoyed me, and putting their heads together like a pair of love birds. I KNOW I KNOW there is nothing wrong. But I am in a bad mood, and I don’t like seeing people all smoochy and stuff. I would be wishing that the guy or the girl suddenly turn into a durian or something. And I will have a good laugh out of it. 😀 Okay. But the good thing is, they got off later on and me and Sophia got to sit together. Yays. So to the guy with the white cap, thank you and I hope you go long long with your girlfriend even though I think she looks like a papaya. Nahh kidding. She is pretty, as far as I can tell from my view, where all I see is her hair.’

Yeah. And then when I was walking back, there was this girl from Saint Margaret who was singing to herself. Her hair was in this really very very messy bun and she was like singing super happily. And that reminded me how I sing too, sometimes when going back home, and way louder. Now I know how weird it is to others, so I am not going to sing anymore. =nods head vigorously=

And why are buns called buns? Why can’t we call hair buns blobs? blobs are cuter right!

Okay okay, that’s all.

Blog post finished in 45minutes.
One tiny section of Kira’s amazing life registered.
And unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, shared with the world.
Someday a scientist from 2000000000000  years later will thank me for this. 😀

kiraknightyy

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