Well OK my resolve to stop blogging has only lasted 2 weeks. I could blog about my real life, but when have I done that? If life is a journey, my car is still in the workshop.
But there are extenuating circumstances that have led to this post. Over the course of a weekend, I found out the identity of 2 of my former tormentors.
One of them harassed me over the internet, and posting a lot of bad stuff in my name. I had mentioned this in my previous incarnation, and had wanted to get back at him but he knows 1 important detail about me which makes it very hard to deal with him. So I KIV'ed that matter. Suddenly one of my friends told me that she met him, finally. A shy introvert, apparently, not really know what's going to hit him. I'm still waiting for that day when that information that he has ceases to be relevant, then I will get my back on him. I already know his name.
The other entry I had blogged about but I removed that entry when that blog had a larger readership. I was representing my school in a maths competition in Pri 6. (Yes at that time I was a top student. I'm still pretty good at maths but I don't seem to be working in a place where being good at maths constitutes much of an advantage.) We had one of the stars on our team, and he answered just about everything. Another guy on my team had begun to emerge as being smart at Maths, and he would one day represent Singapore. Also there was limpeh so it was as good a side as any I had seen.
We thrashed them. And at that time I hadn't been in a lot of quizzes, so I didn't really know how to act. I was a little hyper, but why would you blame me for being excited? I would have answered many of the questions if our star player hadn't snatched them out of my mouth. We got that trophy, and went home happy, or so I thought.
After the quiz, the maths teacher of the opposing team came up to me and said quietly, "I would like to congratulate you" and she stretched her hand out as though to shake it, then she screamed at my face, "for acting like a bloody fool in public". She said that in front of the whole audience, pupils from 3 schools. Now that was horrible. I was too stunned at first to say anything much, but it ate at me inside for a while afterwards. At a more stable period in my life, I would have gotten over it in a few days. As it happened, it took place during my slide into mediocrity. I will not say that that alone caused my grades to slip back, but it was the event that divided the part of my school life as a straight A student and the part of my school life as a straight B student. It took 2 years for me to recover, not really return to being a straight A student, because I started having this attitude that it was all bullshit, but being a normal balanced person again.
I think the only positive thing from this was learning that I could come back from being public enemy #1 to being peoples' friends again. If there are people who whack me a few times and find that it's not having the intended effect, it's because I'm conditioned.
Well I still keep track of my old school friends on facebook (who doesn't anyway) and some of them were chatting about how abusive their old Maths teacher was. One of them named that Maths teacher, and so I gather that that was the one. And I found out that she was abusive to everyone, not just me.
Well when I get whacked I usually grit my teeth first but also try to find out more. I don't really dwell on those things but sometimes I think about how nice it would be to break their legs. But whose legs am I breaking? The first one, some pathetic wanker whose only social life is on the internet, and who I've probably already tortured as much as he's tortured me. The second one, according to a friend, was already breaking up with her boyfriend around that time. Probably has nothing to do other than live her life through her smart pupils. How much satisfaction are you going to get by breaking their legs? The only thing is to show people (because these were very public confrontations) that you are right and they were wrong.
Well I can only comfort myself by thinking that I've already half forgotten many of these incidents by the time I got to know their names. Maybe it wouldn't do to break their legs. Maybe a mock execution or something, scare the shit out of them for a little while, and then we're even.
