It's amazing the effect a couple of words can have on me. At the sight of them, my eyes perk up; my spirits liven; I settle down a little more into my chair (as much as is possible with a straight-backed one), and ready myself for a good read. And you rarely disappoint.

There's a certain spirit in that work, a certain dedication embedded, that I'd like to be able to replicate in mine. Yet, I don't think I'll be able to. I find what I write a little too self-absorbed, too audience-unfriendly, if you know what I mean (and you will, won't you, having read so much of this stuff).

Haha anyway, I messed up the SGC. Only realized it was due 7pm after asking Angela at 6.34. After that, I panicked, opened my mouth; and a stream of utter BS escaped from it, coalescing onto my computer screen. An exercise in pointlessness, is it not? To see who can get the least utility out of those 1800 characters. Characters, seriously. Like fine, penalize a guy for having a long name for all you want, and perhaps the readers have braved hypen-hell for too long, and requested, nay, demanded liberation from it. Maybe it's the only way to counter enterprising/desperate students who have done oh-so-much that they practically have to cram their SGC till it's bursting at the seams, and have resorted to excessive hyphenation, contractions, brackets, headers, footers and god-knows-what.

Hmmph but it's only when they get me to put things down on paper that what I've accomplished in my JC life appears to be so paltry and insubstantial. But screw them. If I've learnt anything, it's that JC life is about the experience; it's not a laundry list of things and stunning achievements. It's something that's greater than the sum of it's individual components, and it contains not only the quantifiable; but the unquantifiable as well. And well, prospective employers-to-be, if you miss out on all that because my SGC failed to impress; some might say it's my loss, I guess, but who knows, it could be your loss as well, nameless cog in the machine that I may be. Cause I'd make a damn good nameless cog.

I'm not making sense anymore, so it ends here.