you dont want that over whelming thumping in your head.
likes its gonna implod inwards.

I hate the flabby base.

dong dong dong donggggg phat phat phattttt.

sounds like farting.

what you want is a taunt bass.

that goes

that that that that.

You want to hear that guitar sing.
you dont want to hear that guitar shriek.

You wanna hear his voice go higher by one octave like how a high performance car change gears.

you dont want that bus jerky transmission graduation of his voice making you feel his uber tight underwear squeezing his balls.


You want to hear that detail.
You dont want to miss that bass guitar in a solo.

You want to hear the double pedals.
but not at the expense of the triangle or that tamborine at the back.

You want to hear the crowd alive at a live recording.
But you also want to heard that finger snapping.

You want that headbanging volume.
but not that distortion driving ur earphones mad.
like your teacher scratching her nails over the black board.

You close your eyes, he is infront of you.
You open your eyes, you swear its almost surreal.

I want to listen to music at its best.
Loud but clear.

want to know how it feels?

coming to my place real soon.

I'll give you an audition.

A day in the life of being Yi Qian's Podie.

Hello.
My name is podie.
I am a MP3 player.
I was designed in california by a company called Apple.
I was put together in a china sweat shop then shipped to a shop in this big blue shopping center in singapore.
I cost Yi Qian 500 dollars to play music into his ears.

Thats what I do. I play music.


I am white in colour. with a chrome backing.
I have a 2 inch by 1.5 inch monochrome screen with a white back light.
When lighted, I am very pretty.
I have a 20 gig capacity.
about 5000 songs give or take a few.
i have about 380 songs in me so far. very little.


My life is moderately interesting.
I go everywhere that Yi Qian goes.

Lets talk about my day today.


Woke up fresh today after a full charge.
100% and always ready to give 110% in my game.
Qian unplugged me from the ATH headphones that gave me quite a work out last night.
Plugged in those poor stock earphones. The left side is squeaky. I dont even need much effort to power them.
Qian wants to get the Grado SR60s, that will prove a tougher challenge. But I am sure the partnership will produce wonders in a auditory sense.



On the bus, i was on shuffle mode.
so i decided what music to play.
Qian seemed pretty awake. but anxious about something.
heard him mumble something like "fucking twp"
I dont know what is twp. what the hell is twp?
tiny weaner person?
So I chose some music which I thought matched the mood.

Maiden's Hallowed be thy name.
Led Zep's Stairway to heaven.
Slither by velvet revolver.
Sweet child o mine by GnR.
Krpytontye by 3 doors down.




He reached school. I was still playing tho.
He went to the library to look up some friends.

Then he bought me to the lecture theater.
Its my first time in there. Usually qian keeps me in the green adidas bag before he enters.
But today curiously I was there out in the open.

I am scared. what if someone steals me? fucking qian, what he thinking??!?!


anyway, before i knew it, i was standing infront of all them people in the LT.
Qian is plugged in.
what the hell.
aint he not permitted to listen when the teacher is there?
what will happen if i get confiscated?
wtf. Qian today very stupid.

anyway, he acted quite dumb infront of all those people.
moron lar him
must be listen to too much barry manilow.
i strongly disapprove of barry.
he makes people stupid.

anyway, after he finnished his act of idiocy, he bought me up to the Ilaw Chambers.
I have been to Ilaw chambers before. I kinda like the place.
I usually get a charge at ilaw and also sync with the Itunes there. I like the computer altho he is alittle slow. He has itunes built in. good com. good com. Like lappy. lappy is a nice computer.


He started working at the computer, muttering something about a 3pm deadline.

he then kept me back in the bag where I could sneak a few hours of sleep.

Thereafter, he went to hand up his work.
he came back for me and we went to the canteen.

I was blaring Boulevard of Broken dreams.
feeling pretty good.
Met up with Qian's friends at the canteen.

there was spence, jia pei, jessie, muizz and mx.
I kinda like all of em altho sometimes i laugh at jia pei.
she has a creative zen. that fat bugger is a brick lar. also 20 gig. but he butt ugly lar. somemore he is naked. he has no casing whatsoever. he ugly lar. jia pei has to carry him around lor, so sad. he has no street cred lar. i ashamed that he is a MP3 player.
he also dont dare look at me one. he so ugly.
haiz, he hates me tho
dont hate me cause i am beatiful.
he does not wear anything to protect him from dirt or scrathes. I think jie pei does not really love him.
me on the other hand, wear a black suit of iSkin Evo 2 with screen and click wheel protector.
Designer stuff. 50 bucks ok!
I feel protected and safe in it. I like my clothes.
But I do hope Qian gets the Vaja case. that would be really comfy! real leather! But he was real put off by the price of 80 bucks. very ex hor, but i want it leh. i hope he gets it.


Mx took out his Micro Zen. nigger leh. i hate them blacks. I am racist!
Midget lar. 5 gig somemore. My little brother mini can kick its arse lar.
I stare at it. He stared at me.
He look away first.
hahahahahhahaa. lew-ser!

Qian's buddy fn using zen micro also. silver one. that guy dye his hair gone to far lar, silver colour. what he thinking?!?!
somemore he spoil. fn say earphone one side no sound one.
damn funny larrrrr.
He weak lar, fn take care till immaculate he still sick.
weaking lar.
sim wong who?


after that, we went back to iLaw.
then qian took jessie's Dcube to steal somesongs.
that bugger ah, can only speak korean lor. design in korea what. so unglam.
small screen and all.
then Qian steal some songs, put in iTunes, then i sync.
viola, new songs! then i also got charged. my batteries quite healthy with all the frequent charges. frequent charging is good for my nickel cadium batteries.

but qian very funny one.
sometimes i play my songs till very happy.
then suddenly he see some people, he will change songs one.
he always like that.
i dunno why also.
sometimes i headbang to maiden, he suddenly change song darn irritating.
always always.
maybe he see girl he shot circuit or something lar.
mad.

the worst is when i metal headbang till very shiok liao. he go play ryan cabera, damian rice or worst barry manilow.
qian abit senile.

but at least he treats me alright.
keeps me charged up, plenty of songs.
let me decide what to play.

ok, tired oredi. wanna charge.
playing on qian's stereo now.
easy cheesy.
altie has his own power supply.
so i just output signal lor.
no need drive anything.
shiok.
ok, ciao. want to rest.

Its all Prin-ci-fucking-ple.

All 4 syllabus of it.

Some things come easily to me.
Yet some things dont. I didnt put in any strenous amount of effort to study for the IP test.yet, it wasnt so bad.not bad at all i might say.
I probably got a better grade than you.compared to all your hours over those notes.I feel for ed.studying for shit long, yet getting the shit grades.

in addition.I see no point in listening to annie gomez speak.
I detest her.
and i hereby declare that i was the one who said that
"ANY gomez can teach better than her."

so sue me.

for my spare change.



its 1:20am.
TWP due at 3pm.
I have not started.
am waiting for someone to help me without me asking.
Lecture slot at 1 pm.
Can you smile?
I can.
if no one helps me, I guess I will just have to do it myself.
it aint that bad.
but it strucked me that i can study for a test in under an hour and do well
.yet something as innocous as saying "hi" is taking the life out of me.



fuck this mind.



jessie wrote me a testimonial on friendster today.
Its one of the better ones. one thing lead to another, i started to surf thru the accs of some of my friends.Especially people I have lost touch with.

Secondary school mates (note i dont use the word "friend")Some things never change.They look the same, write the same(badly) and probably will be instantly recognised if i bump into them on the street.

Me on the other hand.
has changed massively.

Met one of my class mates at classic pool some time back.
she didnt even recognise me.




she did.




after staring at me for awhile.I didnt even bother to say hi.
what for?
no point.


I can no longer tolerate them.
My secondary school class mates.I idnt use too.

Now I cant.Try as I might, I always squirm out of class gatherings what so ever.
Of cos, I could go, but plugged into my earphones for the whole night would be slightly rude no?

I have no explanation for my intense dislike or shall i say intolerance for people from that time.

I just feel that they are fucken stupid when I think of the things that they use to do.
and the things that I heard them do.

or when they open their mouth when I see them once in a long while.

I was unhappy during my sec sch days.
I really was.

and going thru the damn friendster brought back some memories.

Not fond ones tho.
Horrid ones.
let me explain what 4 years in that place was like.

English was sort of inexistent.
it gave new meaning to cheena pia.
it was uncool if you didnt know what kan ni na beh cao chee bye meant.
which is pretty damn dumb.
I dont see how saying "fuck your mother smelly vagina" made anyone cool.
But apparantly it did.


Joining the neighbour hood gang was supposedto be cool.
It was supposed to give you protection and no one would mess with you.
yea. right.
explain to me why those bengs shit in their pants when they were caught smoking in the toliet.


Sex was bullfuck.
literally.
classmate came to school one day bragging about screwing his 14 year old girl friend in a bath tub cause he was afraid to dirty his bed.
what a wanker.
he is better of wanking.
Nowadays, I cringe when I bump into him.


They didnt know what novels were. They read only their textbooks and nothing else.
The interenet was nothing but IRC and porn to them.
The newspaper that they knew was the new paper which is nothing but a tabloid.
radio 933 was cool.
People looked at me funny when I asked them if they knew who honky tonk, godpa and simone was.
Great movies by their definition was the latest stephan chow flick.Gattaca, star wars, thin red line, saving private ryan among others were lost on them.

Post school activities were limited to soccer or trolling over to a classmate's home to catch the latest porn flick or to button mash on the playstation.
Hours were spent debating on how to date the sch belle.
Money was spent on her by them by the hundreds.
When she wont even look at them.
Pathetic.

Girls werent girls back then.
They were boy's fantasy.
apparantly brains and girls were not associated together by the masculine sex in my school.
They were supposed to be empty vessels.

I was inclined to agree.
I almost lost all hope when I had to peer mark a compo by a female class mate.
about this boy with blue eyes and blond hair.
who apparantly broker her heart.
she could write this shit, but she couldnt tell the difference between fiction, non fiction and friction.

But that was all i could gather.
Her english was really that damn bad.
I was thinking to myself."oh my. This is bad. really bad."
if anything, her ultra neat handwriting was the saving grace.

Thankfully my preception of girls changed when I came out of that hell hole.
that piece of god forsaken place of learning.

No one had any idea how exsperated I was.
when my compo, compre or whatever came back from peer teaching with crosses all over.
them fuckers cant understand me.when they cant understand me, they mark me wrong.
wtf.


some teachers couldnt accept me.
most couldnt actually.who could?
an angry teenager who was constantly shooting his mouth off.
His temper knowing no boundaries.
Who would slaughter you in a conversation if you couldnt speak proper english.
strenously defending his friend even when his friend was caught cheating.

Threatening to beat the shit out of a piece of indonesian scum who's father paid cold hard cash to get him into the school.
walking out of his accounting class every single period.
Buring a dustbin.
Putting bread into the suggestion box.

Whos parents handed the job of handling him to you.
teachers were bound not to like me.
I wasnt the ideal student.
far from it,
I was the anti-thesis of the brain washed stupid fucks they were expecting to receive from a primary school.

Well just their luck. But they got thru with it.
or rather, I got thru with it.
No staying back, no more irritations within that building.

I hardly grew up at all in that place.I couldnt.
stuck in a shell so hard, i couldnt grow out of it.

Pressure to conform back then was great.
People went bananas.over trivial matters.
and
if the sch belle liked you.
you were ostracised.



fuck.

i was ostracised.that was a bad memory.
a part i dont want to revist.so bad, i block her on msn.

I wasnt even with her.
but i still got all the shit.bengs threatening to beat me up. cause they thought i was fucking their wet dream partner.
friends who looked fucking sad cause they were in love with her but not her with them and fucking every other guy was in love with her and i cant help it if she does not love them but i rather she did kinda shit and i cant help it if they rest of em couldnt speak english which was a turn off to her that kinda shit.

it was truly bullshit.


I gave up.

I run.

I escaped.




Them fuckers never did understand me. They probably never will.