Quotes by THE Jason Hahn
"Sometimes, the driver of the other train doesn't stay. I think he waits till the very last minute before the other connecting train arrives and then shuts all the doors and drives off. He probably has a very unhappy relationship with his wife and this is the one way he can release all that pent-up frustration by making sure that everyone misses their connecting train." - On the mad rush across the platform usually at City Hall and Raffles Place.
"... And have you noticed how everyone looks on the train? No one smiles! It's like someone just died in their family!"
"... Saff, it's public transport, not American Idol."
"...Or a bit of deodorant - you should have smelled the armpit I was shoved into this morning!"
"But you know what I really hate? It's when they sit there and pick their noses!" "And it's always this middle aged man with a mole on his cheek, ugly fat gold rings on his fingers and a long nail on his last finger!"
The above extracts were taken from 8 Days edition #666. Page 103 - 'First Person.'
E-mail the writer : jason.hahn@8days.com.sg
Famous Quotes ( By class T08, Mass Communication Course, 2003 batch )
"... and all that storage of 7 days shit was all over me!" - Adam on his summer Scout camp.
"My mum used to hit me with a hanger. There was this time when she wasn't looking, I threw it out of the window. I didn't realise there were more in the closet!" - Candice on her childhood mentality.
"I stared at the library wall for three solid hours, without even a glance at her." - Daniel on his first date.
"I couldn't hold back, and I just let it go in the lift. Everyone started backing away real quick." - Bryan on his most embarrasing moment.
"I looked at her and she screamed 'Stop glaring at me!'
I looked up at the ceiling and she screamed 'Don't you roll your eyes at me young girl.'
I stared at the floor and she screamed 'Look at me when I'm talking to you!' " - Mariana on her art teacher.
"My friend had a wet nose, and I saw him blew a bubble with his snot." - Glenn (me lah) on his friend trying to control his laughter.
You know how often you feel bored? Like when there's nothing to do, nothing to eat, nothing to read, listening to Christina Aguilera sing "I Am Beauti-hoo"? Well, you get the picture. And sometimes when your friends aren't there for you? Sometimes their there but they pretend their not there anyway. Thus, I saw
the light. Best friend? What best friend? What I really needed, was a
bestest friend. Yup, someone always within calling reach. Someone always there to talk to me. Well, someone I realised, that I already knew!
See, this happened quite sometime ago when I was calling RECA help desk one sunny sunday feeling very sun tanned afternoon. (??!!) Anyway, the phone rang for like a short twenty minutes (well, considering how it would normally ring for half an hour), when a voice answered the phone:
The telephone : Ring, Riiinngg, Riinn...
The voice : Our friendly and always available operaters are currently unavailable. This happens very rarely, only about three times out of every three times you call. Please, try again later.
The telephone : Tooooot
The voice : *After a long pause* Actually, you don't need to call. They never answer.
Me : Really? Thanks for the information pal. So how are you doin'?
The voice : Not too bad... Hang on, I've got another call.
*From the background : "The number you just dialed have never ever been in use. It's no use trying again cos it'll still be unused. Stop wasting time. Please
do not try another number cos it'd probably be wrong and I will have to answer your call again. Thank you."
The voice : So yeah, you see, I've got loads of calls at this time. Maybe you'd like to call me some other time? Just dial this number - 1900 - I - am - a - fool - calling - a - free - helpdesk. Hear from you soon.
The telephone : *Toooot* *crackle crackle* (I just sent an SMS)
I've yet to try calling him yet. Maybe I should try it now.. and you should too! C'mon, don't lie to yourself! Who's ever gonna pick up that call?
I've just completed my first assignment, and suddenly I feel, hey, Chinese ain't that bad afterall! Seriously, first assignment on something
Kendrick James said like some 100 years back? Man, I've never even heard of that guy! So imagine the horror when my lecturer told us to do a 400 word essay on some crap he said accidently but is now known as 'a-great-quote-from-a-great-author.' I'd remember to talk as much as I can next time (when I become a writer, (well, I hope I can be one)), so that after I'm gone, people will quote me, and those aspiring authors in Ngee Ann Poly will have to write about what I said! Ha! Revenge is sweet... (Nah, I'm kidding.)
But seriously, my Written Comm tutorial was really impressive. My lecturer was the know-it-all, but don't-wanna-tell, and pretty much ha-ha-I-know-but-you-dun-so-find-out-yourself kind of guy... I'm joking. He taught us a lot, and the quotes he gave? Man, it'd impress the socks off you. AND, he used to be collegues with Raymond Goh and Jason Hahn. So that settles it anyway. Brilliant writers... Saffy and Amanda? Yeah, you go Jason Hahn! (Lost? Read 8 Days - "First Person" every week!)
And to you, if you're reading this. You know who you are. It's sad how it's turned out like this. I'll always be around for ya, and thanks so much for bringing me in to a much deeper world of knowledge, Raymond Goh and Jason Hahn. And of course, Dave Barry. I'm really.. well, sad you decided not to take on the course destined for you. You'd have done really great there, much better than me. Thanks for everything.
Well, at least I've completed my essay (after a long day of staring at my screen), even if I won't pass. And I'm having Radio Productions tomorrow. Wow. Hope I don't spoil the equipments in there.. If not there's a high possibility I'd never graduate from Ngee Ann ever. Time to shut up now, so here's the quote :
"Our doubt is our passion and our passion is our task.
The rest is the madness of art." --- Henry James
Oh, it's
Henry James?!
Chapter One - Back at the Dursleys' (Part 1) - Fan-Fiction
Harry stared into darkness. It was only his third day back at the Dursely's, and already, depression has taken over. He couldn't sleep at night, not when such horrors haunted him. The pain in his scar, has become a constant aching, sometimes he even forgot about it. The Dursleys' kept their distance. But Harry had no doubt that Uncle Vernon would've kicked him out of the house at the first opportunity. Oh no, the Durselys' wouldn't want to be associated with people like him. Freaks, they called them. And especially so now when the most feared wizard in the whole of Britain was after him. Even Dudley, whom got his occasional kick out of punching Harry between the eyes stayed clear. Harry knew that the only reason they let him stay on, was the horrible howler they got last summer. The look on Aunt Petunia's face had been pure horror.
These three days had been hell. His thoughts only evolved round one person - Sirus, his godfather. In his attempt to save Harry, he fallen to his death. Lupin, Dumbledore, Mrs. Weasley.. They had all insisted furiously that it wasn't his fault, and if Harry were to blame it on himself, Sirus would've died in vain. "It's easy for them to say," he thought bitterly to himself. It wasn't them who led Sirus to the Ministry of Magic. They wouldn't ever understand how it felt to lose his only kin, the one person he felt really related to, his father's best friend.
Locked in his room, there were little else he could do to keep himself occupied and push all the unhappy thoughts away. Visions and memories of Sirus flashed through his mind all the time, something that wouldn't go away no matter how he tried. It all came to him - when Harry finally acknowledged Sirus as his godfather, not a murderer out of Azakaban. When he saw Harry and Hermione at the wndow on Buckbeak, their attempt to help him escape, the look of gratitude in his eyes. The little weird smile he had, that lit up his sullen face, and his bark-like laugh he always did when Harry amused him. Even now, he felt a painful lump in his throat and his eyes stung. Malfoy would've probably loved to see him in this state, but he really couldn't help it. Before Sirus died, he held on to that little hope that he could leave the Dursleys soon enough, but now, it seems it will never happen.
To add to his depression, he, Ron and Hermione were forbidden to send owls, thus, his connection to the wizarding world was down to zero. He thought longingly of July when term starts and felt it would never come. Hedwig too, was in a foul mood. She had been locked up in her cage since Harry came back, and hasn't had the chance to spread her wings, fly into the night sky and catch some mice since then. Dumbledore had strictly instructed her imprisonment, and told Harry that by letting her out, death-eaters could be knocking on the Dursleys' door next. Thus with this rule, Hedwig and Harry have both been cropped up in the cage and room respectively, and probably would be till three months later. The mere thought of it pained him.
He laid on his bed and stared at the dark ceiling above. It seemed the misery in his life would never end. He felt terrible, both inside and outside. He was tired, and sleep was taking over. He hardly slept the past few days - Sirus's death, Voldermort's cold, cruel laugh... Not mentioning his recurring dreams about the dark corridors that never ended. And each time, he would wake up in cold sweat, breathing hard, because each had been so real, so near. Now, he felt his eyes close, and suddenly, he was back at Hogwarts. He, Ron and Hermione were at the Great Hall having breakfast. Everything seemed extraordinarily bright, eerily cheerful. Laughter filled the hall, and Dumbledore stood up at the staff table. "Voldemort has gone. The wizarding world is at peace." Thunderous applause filled his head, but strangely, he did not feel happy, Instead, he had this mad rush to attack Dumbledore. Picking up his wand, he charged. But before he could do anything, Dumbledore collapsed, and Umbridge appeared behind him.. "Caught in the act eh, Potter?" her voice sounding far away and unreal. "Just what the Ministry's trying to prove, Potter is a nut case," her eyes bulging, and she was shaking with mad laughter. He turned back to Ron and Hermione, trying to explain that he didn't want it to happen, but they backed away from him, and laughed together with Umbridge...
"Argh noooo!" Gasping for breath and denched in sweat, he woke up to find himself back in his room at Privet Drive. He heard his uncle grunt in the next room, and the bed creaked under his weight. He looked at the clock, and it was already three in the morning. The dream, could it have meant anything? Was he becoming Voldermort? Or was he sharing the very same thoughts as him, and could no longer control them? Till now, he couldn't forget that mad and strong urge to hit out at Dumbledore when he was back at school last term. It was hate that he had never experienced before, and his desire to hurt his headmaster as much as he could. So with this dream, did it meant that Harry had no more will to withold this desire? He had this sudden swift thought, that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn't be going back to Hogwarts this term. However, a small voice replied in his head, "Do you honestly think Albus Dumbledore don't know what you're thinking?"
