Mein Kampf

went for the rg gym performance today. i met my rj seniors, rj batchmates, and rg juniors, though i doubt there is a need to draw a distinction since all three groups are under the large umbrella called 'the raffles family' - something which i used to find comfort, and take pride in.

my old glory -though i am not under its protection anymore.

I said my farewells long ago, when the words 'hwa chong institution' seeped into the blue paper of the humanities scholarship application form. Leaving only a dead end, to the other journey laid out for me-
a path I used to think was the only way through.

rg gym - rj gym. rg house cheerleading - rj faculty cheerleading. rg girl - rj girl.
Rafflesians unite.

How callously I had flung this kinship aside, attributing the lingering depressions to a passing sentimentality sure to fade. Time- time would cure me of my wounds. Time is my balm.

And so it was- for the short space of three months.

As we stood before a cheering audience, singing the song that said we belonged, I was euphoric - rejoicing in my long-overdue initiation into the hwa chong 'farmily'. At last, I have found my second 'raffles'.

I thought my days as a refugee were over-

Until tonight.
when I stuck out like a sore thumb in a sea of white and green, speaking a slang i thought i once knew, laughing at jokes which i used to initiate and now did not comprehend. Trying to be who I once was, when they were who they once were.

But we are sundered now, by more than just distance.

My brown skirt, clashes with your green billowing one. Your shirt - isn't water and fire resistant, unlike mine.
To think we both used to walk in the same blue and white ensemble, singing 'dedication'-

'Hand in hand, we work and strive, for the best things in life."

my mouth chants the word raffles, when I think you aren't looking.




(this isn't intended to offend. it is a mere rant of a person vacillating between past and present, imagination and reality,torn by different loyalties. ignore it, if you must.)