One has never ran so much in a single day in one's life so far.

2.4 km in 11.05 minutes, to gauge NAPHA ability.
Another 2.4km, unofficial physical training.
Another 2.4km, punishment.

Surprisingly, one's legs were still intact.

Then again, one supposes that there are many people who run more than oneself, perhaps even on a daily, or regular basis. One does not deserves to complain. Others have surely gone through much worse.

Thoughts of Roger Bannister kept occurring in one's mind while one was running the 11.05 minute long 2.4km run. If he managed to work hard enough to be able run 1.6km in under 4 minutes. One felt that failure to finish the 2.4km run in a duration of close to 6 minutes, would be an insult to his memory.

With this, one psycho-ed oneself to run like some mad fuck. One managed to do so despite how exhausted one was, despite how much one's legs did not want to move. Yet this drive to run only lasted in the form of rather short bursts. One's willpower was as such; weak.

Then came physical training. 2.4km once again, chin-ups and pumpings.

Then punishment. 50 pumpings, some shoulder-straining flapping exercise, 2.4km.

One felt like a zombie after this.

Found a nice umbrella somewhere in school, which one took and used it to shelter oneself from the rain without hesitation. Then crawled together to KFC with Jun Hoa, Jing Hui and Beefed Lim. Crawled we did.

Talked about Beefed who somehow managed to scam 100+$$ off this clever handphone shopkeeper. His phone was apparently damn beat up and had problems aplenty, yet he managed to lie his way out of it.

He says, " My earphones one side no sound, so it does not sound like both sides got sound. "
In truth, the hand phone was just screwed up. Bottom line is, the scam was pulled off smoothly and with style.

Finished feasting, parted ways with Jun Hoa and Beefed. Went to take MRT heading in the Jurong East direction.

By the time we were there waiting for the train to arrive, it was 8pm.

We waited till 10pm or so to board a train.

Reason being, the two of us were joking about things which should not be mentioned here. Thus, one will not do so. But it was indeed fun and hilarious.

One also realised that why Jing Hui was so crazy, and perhaps retarded to some, was due to one's bad influence, or so he claims. But he was a much more amplified version of oneself. He says that this is because he evolved. Get one's point?

Yet one believes that many other factors also played a part, for his condition was much worse than before. Or was it due to constant conversing with oneself? Yet one does not see many people in one's surroundings becoming insane, or retarded. It puts one much more at ease.

So we were chuckling away like maniacs for people to feast their eyes upon, not that we cared. Just enjoy life, yeah.

Laughter and exercise stimulates the release of endorphin in one's body. So one should assume it was an endorphin enriched day.

One more thing, one has this Sec 3 junior who just joined this year.

1. One does not mind that this boy is fat.
2. One does not mind that this boy has some sort of disgusting form of rash or poxes on his arms and legs.
3. One does not mind that this boy has got BO.
4. One does not mind that this boy is deranged, he talks to himself, he takes one of our Dance Studio's many bamboo stick and swings it around, saying, " This is my gun, I'm a sniper.". Nobody talks to him. SAD.

One is very kind and can tolerate most flaws of people. One cannot claim that oneself is flawless.

But there is probably just one thing one can not tolerate.

For no apparent reason, he likes to sit near one's bag. And where one's bag is, one's possessions will be there too. He is dirty, and loves to scratch his legs and arms, due to some rash or pox. Please exercise some consideration when near to other people's belongings, fucking sit somewhere else, some corner where you can scratch all you want.

One also lives in fear of his legs or arms coming in contact with one's bag. One once gave him a stare when he almost came too close. KILLER STARE. It drove him away, but only for that instance. After which, he came to sit near one's bag once again. DICKHEAD.

He is this lumbering, clumsy idiot. No one tries to help teach him how to dance, how to do this and that etc. No one even wants to approach him. Today one plucked up the courage to try and help him correct his posture when dancing. One received in reply " Very difficult, very painful, I don't want to feel pain.".

STFU FAGGOT, you are a (TEENAGER/FAGGOT) in a (BOYS SCHOOL/ LALA LAND) for GOODNESS SAKE. If you wish to WHINE to people, go find some (FUCKING GAY SCHOOL FOR GAY KIDS/ PLACE WHERE HE BELONGS).

One turned around and stormed off in utter disgust, leaving him to rot there for all one cares. He then swings his arms and legs around clumsily, in an attempt to accomplish a dance routine, nearly hitting one's bag as usual.

One swears, if one day he happens to hit or touch one's bags or possessions, one will whack the shit out of him, and the poxes or rashes out of his limbs. One will whack him despite how disgusting it is to even touch him.

One will then probably have to buy Dettol and wash one's hands with Dettol for at least 450 times.

One does not claim that one has learnt to dance like some professional, but one has learnt many other things in life throughout his near 4 years of being part of Modern Dance. One has learnt much from this CCA, one feels indebted to it.

END.