-silenced.blogspot.com

2012-02-15T03:41:00.000-08:00

despite the 'overcommercialized nature of Valentine's Day', and that 'everyday is a day for the expression of love', I remain thankful for the platform and reminder it serves for myself

-

A random declaration of love on a lazy day of laze and daze

Hello :) it's a random Monday night but my heart is singing praises of my boyfriend, as usual :) we are now approaching the end of 2011- the end of my first uni semester and his entering the army. It's been good thus far. I really, and I say this for the billionth time, really really have the best best BEST boyfriend ever. The most amazing person ever, incredibly funny, sweet, and easily the most generous and kind-hearted boy around. So adorable despite all his baldness. He cracks me up all the time, he gives great hugs and he lets me eat all the chocolates in his fridge. I really don't know how I'm ever going to find someone better. I don't think I ever will. I feel loved and comforted and happy and it's true, as cheesy as it sounds, my life would be so empty without you. We could spend days doing nothing: just lazing around doing our own things, simply being in the presence of each other elevates the mood and eliminates the dullness of the day. I am but a paranoid, perpetually stressed-out petty selfish geek yet am blessed with a life of lovely gifts and surprise musical tickets and soft toys (even in our third year together, keeping in mind our forgotten kids like Ashley, baby cub, bread, girallow and now minion) and handmade cards and daily wakeup calls. I am so happy with you. Jacob Ng Yutao, you are such a gem (a huge, blindingly sparkling gem that screams "blingbling" all its shininess) that I just might propose to you someday so you have no way of escaping from my grasp. I am one lucky bitch. I love you <3

2012-02-15T03:34:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I just land in this state where I feel a little hollow inside. And then I think about the reasons for feeling this way and I can't. In all honesty I think I have just about everything, but there's still a nagging sense of displeasure / something-missing kind of feeling that bugs me. After which I chew on some candy and the feeling fades.

But before it fades I land in this pensive mood where I start questioning anything, my self, my blank future and I think about alternate universes and all that I could be, which is nothing, actually. Nothing greater, nothing more significant, what more is there to this life? Being with people is so terribly draining and this fatigue reminds me of my weaknesses I suppose. I'm perfectly fine with talking to new people, I think I can handle conversations like these because there's an infinite things to talk about. I just feel like I get so wary and self-conscious and obligatory after the first encounter and I think about potentials and possibilities and I get skeptical and wary and guarded and… I'm not quite sure how that goes, it's terribly befuddling at times.

Secrets of the Universe

2012-02-08T00:26:00.001-08:00

The vast sky stretches beyond our existence. The glimmering clouds huddle closer, each concealing a secret of their own. Tiny silhouettes, hands outstretched, we are left grappling with the mystery of life.

2012-02-03T05:38:00.001-08:00

What I’m sure of is that you can’t be happy without money. That’s all. I don’t like superficiality and I don’t like romanticism. I like to be conscious. And what I’ve noticed is that there’s a kind of spiritual snobbism in certain ‘superior beings’ who think that money isn’t necessary for happiness. Which is stupid, which is false, and to a certain degree cowardly. For a man who is well born, being happy is never complicated. It’s enough to take up the general fate, only not with the will for renunciation like so many fake great men, but with the will for happiness. Only it takes time to be happy. A lot of time. Happiness, too, is a long patience. And in almost every case, we use up our lives making money, when we should be using our money to gain time. That’s the only problem that’s ever interested me. To have money is to have time. That’s my main point. Time can be bought. Everything can be bought. To be or to become rich is to have time to be happy, if you deserve it. Everything for happiness, against the world which surrounds us with its violence and its stupidity. All the cruelty of our civilization can be measured by this one axiom: happy nations have no history.

- Albert Camus

2012-01-25T10:15:00.001-08:00

Seeing people sad makes me sad, because they are nice people and nice people don't deserve to be sad. They are wonderful and caring and beautiful and should be deservingly treated with love and care in return. They release petals of happiness to others and in return, these rays of sunshine should bounce back from the walls of emotions and fit snugly back to their arms. Other People should not wield power over their emotions, manipulate their feelings in dark twisted ways while remaining triumphantly ignorant of their deeds.

(but that's the scary bit about human relations - the power we unconsciously thrust into their hands to manipulate our tiny hearts)

fma: and you are?

2012-01-17T00:40:00.000-08:00

in every semester there needs a single module that keeps me racing to fill my knowledge bank. this semester it's most certainly the one on love. The social construction of love - for what is love, the intangible emotion that could throw you high up in the heavens or bring you crashing to the ground, fling your emotions to extremes and drive the minds and hearts of people nuts? I love the racing eagerness, even hunger I get as I devour the pages hungrily and feel my heart and mind swelling with awareness. How fun it is! To study in such a practical, paradoxically unromantic way, the idea of romance. To have me sit down with tons of articles awaiting my flitting and jumping and hopping across the pages.

John Lee's six basic love styles—also known as "colours" of love—that people use in their interpersonal relationships:

Eros
Ludus
Storge
Pragma
Mania
Agape

Relationships based on similar love styles were found to last longer. People often look for people with the same love style as themselves for a relationship. These styles are akin to the Greek types of love.

Eros (love)
Akin to limerence, eros is literally the love of Beauty. It is a highly sensual style of love. Erotic lovers choose their lovers by intuition or "chemistry." They are more likely to say they fell in love at first sight than those of other love styles.
Erotic lovers view marriage as an extended honeymoon, and sex as the ultimate aesthetic experience. They tend to address their lovers with pet names, such as "sweetie" or "sexy". An erotic lover can be perceived as a hopeless romantic. Those of other love styles may see erotic lovers as unrealistic, or trapped in a fantasy.
The advantage of erotic love is the sentimentality of it. It is very relaxing to the person doing it. The disadvantage is the inevitability of the decay in attraction, and the danger of living in a fantasy world. In its extreme, eros can resemble naïveté.
Examples of Eros in movies include The Blue Lagoon, Return to the Blue Lagoon, Pretty Woman, Working Girl, Girl with a Pearl Earring, Star Wars and Titanic.
In a genetic study of 350 lovers, the Eros style was found to be present more often in those bearing the TaqI A1 allele of the DRD2 3' UTR sequence and the overlapping ANKK1 exon 8. This allele has been proposed to influence a wide range of behaviors, favoring obesity and alcoholism but opposing neuroticism-anxiety and juvenile delinquency.[3] This genetic variation has been hypothesized to cause a reduced amount of pleasure to be obtained from a given action, causing people to indulge more frequently.[4]

Ludus
Ludic lovers are players. More interested in quantity than quality of relationships, ludic lovers want to have as much fun as possible. Ludic lovers choose their partners by playing the field, and quickly recover from break-ups.
Ludic lovers tend to view marriage as a trap, and are the most likely of the love styles to commit infidelity. They might view children as a sign of fertility of the parent or of the masculinity of the father. They regard sex as a conquest or a sport, and they engage in relationships because they see them as a challenge.
The disadvantage[citation needed] of this love style is the likelihood of infidelity. In its most extreme form, ludic love can become sexual addiction.
Examples of ludus in movies include Dangerous Liaisons and Cruel Intentions.

Storge
Storgic lovers are friends first. Storgic love develops gradually out of friendship, and the friendship can endure beyond the breakup of the relationship. Storgic lovers choose their mates based on homogamy, and sometimes cannot pinpoint the moment that friendship turned to love. Storgic lovers want their significant others to also be their best friends.
Storgic lovers place much importance on commitment, and find their motivation to avoid committing infidelity is to preserve the trust between the partners. Children and marriage are seen as legitimate forms of their bond. Sex is of lesser importance than in some of the other love styles.
This involves respect and understanding for another person.
The advantage of storgic love is the level of intimacy between the partners. The disadvantage is the lack of passion[citation needed].
Examples of storge in movies include Love & Basketball, When Harry Met Sally, and Zack and Miri Make a Porno.

Pragma
Pragmatic lovers think rationally and realistically about their expectations in a partner, and select them via comparison shopping or shopping-list love. Pragmatic lovers want to find value in their partners, and ultimately want to work with their partner to reach a common goal.
Pragmatic lovers will avoid infidelity to avoid adverse consequences, and carefully weigh the costs and rewards of a relationship. Pragmatic lovers view sex as a reward or a means of procreation, and view marriage and children as potential liabilities and assets.
The advantage of pragmatic love is practicality and realism. The disadvantage is un-demonstrativeness and lack of emotion. Pragmatic love should not be considered as negative type of love attitude. In collectivist culture where arranged marriage is practised, pragmatic love is very common at the time of mate selection (Chaudhuri, 2004). One must be culturally sensitive to have an understanding regarding pragmatic love.
Examples of pragma in books and movies include Ordinary People and Charlotte in Pride and Prejudice.

Mania
Manic lovers often have low self-esteem, and place much importance on their relationship. Manic lovers speak of their partners in possessives and superlatives, and feel they "need" their partners. Love is a means of rescue, or a reinforcement of value. Manic lovers often discover their partners by haphazard means.
Manic lovers will avoid committing infidelity if they fear discovery. They view marriage as ownership, and children as either competition or a substitute for their lover. Sex is a reassurance of love. Manic lovers are often anxious or insecure, and can be extremely jealous. Manic lovers respond well to therapy, and often grow out of this style.
The advantage of manic love is intensity. The disadvantages include jealousy, possessiveness, and insatiability. In its extreme, mania becomes obsession or codependency. One example from real life can be found in the unfortunate John Hinckley, Jr., a mentally disturbed individual who attempted to assassinate US President Ronald Reagan, due to a misperception that this would prompt the actress Jodie Foster to finally reciprocate his obsessive love. Hinckley's continuing behavior to date would seem to show that he has not been able to transcend his obsession, and this would again seem to be consistent with a deviant form of manic love.[citation needed]
Extreme examples of mania in movies include Misery, Fatal Attraction, Play Misty for Me, Swimfan, Taxi Driver.

Agape
Agapic love is self-sacrificing, all-encompassing love. Agapic lovers are often spiritual or religious people. Agapic lovers view their partners as blessings, and wish to take care of them.
Agapic lovers will remain faithful to their partners to avoid causing them pain, and will often wait patiently for their partners after a break-up. Marriage and children are sacred trusts, and sex is a gift between two people. Agapic love believes itself to be unconditional, though lovers taking an agapic stance to relationships risk suffering from inattention to their own needs.
The advantage of agapic love is its generosity. A disadvantage is that it can induce feelings of guilt or incompetence in a partner. In its deviant form, agape can become martyrdom. "Greater love (agape) hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." - John, 15:13, Christian New Testament. Martyrdom for principle may be acceptable; martyrdom to maintain a relationship is considered psychologically unhealthy.
Examples of agape in books and movies include The Gift of the Magi by O. Henry, Penelope in Odyssey, The Mission, Somewhere in Time, Titanic, Untamed Heart, Forrest Gump, The Bible[citation needed], and Shakespeare's play "Romeo and Juliet".

source -

- chanced upon in the midst of my research.

re play

2012-01-13T07:37:00.001-08:00

School begins when I close my eyes and open them again
When morning comes and I am once again plunged into the mundane life of late nights and endless readings and I'm not exactly looking forward to it. Really.

--

Hello to Friday! The first week of school has drawn to a historical closure. It was a good week though, I mostly slept late (re-plunged into the late nights of hall life) but this week was not filled with readings and schoolwork but more of happy chatters that filled the night. It makes me happy, to see people sprawled on my bed snuggling onto my blanket comfortably, gently tugging on the hands of Minion as they speak. Our twinkling laughters fill the night and as I laugh I think, this is something I'll bring with me when I graduate. Happy neighbors lazing on my bed and talking, just talking. It makes me feel human again. Need to cherish such times while they last, before schoolwork starts to build up and sink into our minds and hours and conversations.

That aside, it's been a physically active week filled with trainings. Sweating it out. Ihg is starting but I'm not that nervous, really, not much pressure here- although it would be nice to have a small taste of victory. SMB duty tonight was pretty pointless, sitting there being forced to watch a game I didn't enjoy and, if I dare say, truly don't give a hoot about. It was draining, ironically, doing nothing there. For 5 entire hours. The only happy moment was when we rode the vehicle back and swung over the bumps; almost flying off my seat going "WHOOOOOO" laughing so hard I could barely breathe, that was good fun, really, the short thrill of it reminding me of my youth - I am young and allowed to be decently reckless, am I not? Decently. When we are 'adults' these wouldn't take place so often anymore, would it. Too much responsibility and blahblah.

Oh yes.. And Nadia came over to NUS today, which made the funnest lunch break of the week. Possibly the funnest of my uni life thus far? 4 of us sat down and ate and giggled - ALOT - and bought icecream (after countless sampling attempts) and sat down and "got fat". It made me realize how much I miss this, this non-stop giggling with this lovely group (+ms/m!). Miss the pink plate stall, the chicken burger, the western food (baked rice), the wonton mee, catching a glimpse of the bokana boys kicking around the netball court as I queue at the last stall for my crispy noodles. Sharing the packet of 60cents orange biscuit as we sat around the round table. Hehehe when we were young(er).

So this week.. Was a good one, I still get 8 hours of sleep and I didn't miss a single class. It's going to be a busy semester but just keep swimming, just keep swimming ~~

Annoying 'good sides' hahahah

2012-01-09T19:42:00.000-08:00

so the magic hand of Age has moved again, leaning closer to the right- and tada, in an instant, i turn 20; the twenty of beginnings.
the twenty of adulthood and all scary things that beckon. i have crossed the bridge from my teens into my twenties. next year, i will be in my 'early twenties', then 'mid-twenties', then thirties and so on, i have crossed the line and never will i be a teen again…

…and what would that transition hold?

time to reflect upon this year (19). this year was good, a somewhat quiet celebration with pure joy and love and blessings from people whose company i enjoy and have enjoyed for at least the past 2 years. these are also likely the people im going to enjoy my time and have time worth spending on. i suppose we learn, as we grow, to separate the people who matter to you, the people who mattered to you and the people who could matter but by time and circumstances do not.

20 lovely years on this earth. if the year were to end in 2012, what would be my regrets? this is the question that floats across my mind every now and then. this year for the first time i experienced some sort of nonchalance about dying and a bubble of satisfaction with my life thus far. i have essentially done everything i need to do i suppose? in the years before this the one thing that stopped myself from being able to die peacefully (should that happen) would be the inability to raise a child, but even that has been partially granted by the birth of Kayla :) I have essentially witnessed her slow growth, from sprawling on the bed "uselessly" (quote jacob hahah) to the running, laughing child she was at the playground the other day :) what is it that makes kids so excited about playgrounds? She flails her arms excitedly when she recognizes one. When did playgrounds lose that excitement for me anyway? See, these are things you lose without even knowing, a box of excitement that slips from your pocket in the passing of time, only realizing so in the reminder of children.

it was a really sweet celebration, a really lovely one because it made me feel like more than ever i crossed the line over to the other side, more than ever i can see myself with jacob in the long run. not that it isn't something i've thought about, but this celebration just.. pushed the idea further. well enough about that.

that aside, birthdays have always been lovely for me because i know great people who try to make me happy. i feel like i've had enough, though, like i've reached my 'happy birthdays' quota, all the way back from rudderbucks in primary school (handdrawn shoes when i turned 15), sec2 with netballers, sec3 SC, sec4 4-4, i remember bursting into tears for those 3 consecutive years. such lovely days. and those memories are enough for me, if you know what i mean. like i've had my fair share of very happy birthdays so i will never be disappointed with this day again, because i've had my share of fun. thank you all that made me feel this way. <3

okay, ending this here because i have nothing else to add on, plus i wasn't in a blogging mood anyway but i just wanted to say something before the day slips by and then im too lazy to draft anything about it to remember it by.

2012-01-03T01:17:00.000-08:00

May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art — write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.
Neil Gaiman

little manhattan

2011-12-26T04:33:00.000-08:00

"Love is an ugly, terrible business practiced by fools. It'll trample your heart and leave you bleeding on the floor. And what does it really get you in the end? Nothing but a few incredible memories that you can't ever shake. The truth is, there's gonna be other girls out there. I mean, I hope. But I'm never gonna get another first love. That one is always gonna be her. " - Gabe, Little Manhattan

today i confess again

2011-12-26T03:40:00.000-08:00

11/1/11

I no longer read.

I remember the days of hiding beneath the blanket with a torch, lying in my bathtub, creeping to the toilet in the middle of the night- each time with a tender book in hand. Somewhere along the way I lost it; that eagerness to devour the bloating adventures that awaited, to catch a glimpse of the view of a criminal, a bird, a mother, a widow. Anyone.

But I no longer read. Somewhere along my teenage years books encompassing the strings of beautiful words and emotions were gradually replaced by textbooks, bulky rigid angular textbooks filled with similarly unnecessary mathematical symbols, technical vocabulary, words I was forced to swallow and spit in times of need, not to be slowly savored for the bittersweet aftertaste to linger.
Priorities have changed, somewhere along the way books were replaced. Books for pure enjoyment were replaced, for self-pride, for grades, for economic pursuits and aspirations. Somewhere along the way I lost that passion. For that, I apologize and as much as I hate to admit it, i now look reality in the eye and take off the 'bookworm' label I used to think of myself, because I no longer hold that title, not since 10 anyway.

2011-12-26T03:35:00.000-08:00

i used to hold this belief that everyone and anyone in the world can be friends, as long as we get to know the depth of each other and grow to appreciate their flaws. i try to like everyone, but people disapprove of this action, associating it with 'trying too hard to please everyone', it is seen as weak, not being firm of your opinions, being a 'pushover', hypocritical or whatever strong-headed people call it.

as i grow i realize there is indeed different 'types' of people; the quiet ones, the nice ones you cant talk beyond polite conversations, the nice ones you know that's always ready to listen, the funny ones, the funny and bitchy ones, the bitchy ones. always feared the last one. always feel uncomfortable when the bitchings begin. i am not trying to claim the moral high ground here, neither am i trying to act like i don't bitch. i do. but the way people bitch is scary, im not able to handle the excessively mean ones. i don't know how to react or 'contribute'. i know this makes me sound like im acting all 'goody-goody' of sorts but it makes me cringe, and even if we are friends i am always certain one day you'd bitch the same way about the person next to you. sure, some people accept that because that's friendship, going through fights and backstabbings and all crap, but that's really not the way i go. my friendships must be full of niceties and beneath the meanness and bitchiness, humor and sweetness within. placing me in an environment where im constantly aware of the possibility of being given the 'cold shoulder', possibly being victimized is just horrid. why look for people like that? (appearing) excessively confident, strong-minded people. i will never be happy. i cant be around people who are too critical either, and insistent on their views. it makes me go crazy inside trying to make them see my view, or at least nod and go 'yup, that's true' <- i need that, a lot. it made me realize it's not easy to find people you can really be with. sometimes it takes some initial hesitation but time makes you think, "hey, this is something." and that's good. for rare cases you go "hmm great potential!" on the first day and before you know it a week later you are linking arms and prancing around the field, giggling madly. the chemistry, that instant magic. i wouldn't want to find the 'rare' ones all the time, because too many 'rare' ones makes it difficult to decide which is your favorite. the 'hey, this is something' is good, and im lucky to have gotten enough opportunities. i always wonder if i'll be happier in another environment, with another 'type' of people, but ultimately we all end well. i suppose. abrupt end to post, because i have south asian tomorrow. goodnight. think im so distant sometimes, so unwilling to speak, to 'bond' too readily. e.g taking happy photos with a bunch of new friends, i feel uncomfortable because i'm aware it's a 'bonding' thing, like i'm aware and selective of 'artificial bonding'. not too sure how to explain. all i want to do is coop myself up in my room, watch my own tv shows, do my own shopping, wash my own clothes, bathe alone, walk around alone.

to all my future lovers, and not just boys:

6/29/10

my heart demands an absurd level of assurance, a constant assurance from others that i know even i am unable to give. and this hunger, this fear, is the main reason for that self-conjured hollowness i feel far too often than i should. i think too much and that inflicts more harm on me than it should, it is precisely its intangibility that makes it even more deviant, im not able to grab it and crush it to bits like how i would (if, driven to absolute misery) to a spider who threatens to sink its fangs on me. My heart would pound furiously as I raise my hand in anticipation, but when my hand swoops down to vanquish the evil thing I will let out a gasp, a gasp of.. fear? Of disbelief? Of relief? And there, that's the end of my misery.

But no, the intangibility of this drives me crazy, it weaves itself around, cleverly slips past my grasp when i try to pull it by its tail, fling it out my head. It knows. It knows and it grows, this thought, it grows and it slithers as it pleases and it binds the tangled mess in my head tighter and tighter and tighter-

anata ga natsukashii desu (tokyo)

2011-12-26T01:41:00.000-08:00

disneyland, harajuku, tokyo tower, a deliberate visit to Hachiko at Shibuya and a ski resort (i no longer remember the names of other places we visited, sadly)
my favourite photos from the trip, carefully sieved from the tons of pictures that Papa took :)

hard disks and computers crash, but blogger and the world wide web will always be here for me (evident from the sec1 photos that still exist)

in no particular order:

hot springs:

wide-eyed fascination with snow

disneyland

hakone below!! hilarious photo i love how spontaneous my parents are at posing for photos lol

random mobile shop

3D HANDPHONE. I couldnt capture the 3d-ness of the screen with my phone.

solar-powered phone

Japan's technology is truly amazing. It's going to take years before these gadgets reach us, by which they would probably long be considered old products (the new camera dad bought in SG was no longer in production in Japan)

best. cream. puff. EVER. will never forget that burst-of-flavor sensation that brings you an immediate surge of blissfulness.

this was not an easy photo to pose for because it was FREEZING

jiao bei jiu ^^

snow! SNOW!

disneyland

The Escape of the Pooh Bear

3d camera!!!!!!! < $1k from memory

i dont remember the name of this place but it was lovely and heartwarming reading these wishes in the cold.

^ sis: definitely a Singaporean.

MY KITTY UMBRELLA!!!!! So freaking cute it was the best purchase of the trip... except i dont use it anymore because i dont bring umbrellas out. still, cute to look at meow meow

miss the bidet

it really wasnt easy to snap a photo with these walking mascots because they kept rushing here and there and people kept rushing after them

random street. happy people spreading christmas love so cute :)

hachiko!

really tasty crepes

tamagotchi

tsukiji fish market

i end with my favourite series of photos which never fail to crack me up:

Before: Happy and excited dad

After: Sis throws a snowball at him

she smiles sheepishly.

hahahahah lovely memories!

2011-12-09T21:43:00.000-08:00

It's December again. I drafted this post a year ago on my Japan trip, and I never finished it because somehow I just never had the time to. (ironically so, given the amount of time i had post-a's) I think it's time, though. I don't have all the 10gb (yes!!! we are such camwhores!!!!!!) worth of photos with me now, so i'll fill the rest slowly when I'm back.

--

I love Tokyo's clean toilets

Perpetually happy salespeople

Food! It's awfully expensive though... 8$ crepe, 6$ takotaki, 7$ pizza

When we confronted Papa about having bought 2 identical jackets of the same colour he seemed surprised that it was even an issue, which I think it is because it is unnecessary to declare to the streets of Tokyo that we were sisters

Wen quan was interesting. I flushed when i first caught a glimpse of naked bodies of my fellow gender, but we simply walked past with an air of nonchalance.

I burst out laughing when dad flappped his wings while uttering slowly "chi-ken, chi-ken" like we were all malfunctional retards

It's rather strange though, to have flown across the world only to find that the food tasted the same. I dont know what I was expecting; perhaps a rush of joy at the taste of "authenticity", "real Japanese food", only to take a bite and feel a tiny swell of disappointment that it was the same. (to me, that is. I've never been one to tell the difference in food- I think sweet talk is as good as koi and possibly better, if we take cost into account)

Some meals were really good though

WASABI IS A PLANT

It was like 1. put into mouth 2. waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah -inserts repetitive praises-

but that was only 2 meals.

Also, I have come to adopt the role of the Scavenger of the family. I am now - secondary to Dad - the one who rummages through the leftovers, seeking what remains edible and to my liking. I dont know why I eat so much. I think I have the appetite and almost the speed of a man, cos I always finish my food less than 3mins after Jacob finishes his. Girls eat soooooo slowly I think Jacob will feel frustrated all the time waiting for his next girlfriend to finish eating her food so he shouldnt have a next girlfriend

mini apple

THE MANY TECH-SAVVY GADGETS WE SHOULD GET:

Anansi Boys and Cat's Eye were my books of the trip. Cat's Eye was provoking, in that I felt incredulous / angry / HELPLESS yes thats the word - at the fact that I couldnt help Elaine. I wanted to shake her violently by the shoulders and tell her to get herself out. Which she eventually did, and I was vaguely consoled. In that moment of frustration I wrote:
As morbid as it sounds, if I were Elaine I would one day take Cordelia and friends by the wrists and slit them slowly, bit by bit, staring at them with my cold blue eyes, engraving every bit of my pain into their skins, as they deserve.

But that was only the first half of the book, because after that Cordelia became more sympathy-worthy and the plot kind of flatlined for me

"Knowing too much about other people puts you in their power, they have a claim on you, you are forced to understand their reasons for doing things and then you are weakened."
-Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye

which, after Cordelia became sympathy-worthy, the quote rang true

I think eighteen is such a good age to travel. When I was younger I used to complain that I was travelling only to Malaysia every year (on retrospect i was such an unappreciative brat), but given another chance to choose i would never let my younger self travel beyond Asia; it wouldnt have made as much of a difference to me. I wouldnt have known to appreciate the sights, the culture, photos... whichever country i went would probably have been Just Another Place.

I travelled twice this year, the first to Malaysia (geog trip!!) in March. It was fun. I thought alot then because Geography teaches us about life (tone: matter-of-fact). It is December and this trip to Japan I didn't exactly learn alot, nor reflected much, but I did continually think about how lucky I am. I am, I am so damn lucky to be able to travel so often, more than I deserve. And I am only eighteen.

Eighteens a good age for a first encounter with snow. It's the late teens; it's neither too old nor too young. The burst of exhilaration makes one forget all about the cold. I find myself running (or at least trying to), throwing snow repeatedly in the air. As they fall they catch the morning light and they glisten, like sparkling jewels. Or fairy dust. I was happy. I made a snow angel today (just hours ago, think about that!), I never thought I would ever get to do that. I rode down the icy hill, squealing with joy even with the freezing wind brushing roughly past my face. I couldn't stop smiling. I love snow! Snow! Snow that I've read of in books, snow that I've seen on tv, in films.. And even now the memory feels surreal. I touched snow. Real snow. I am in awe.
For that, and volcanoes, it's been an amazing trip.

---

THAT'S ALL FOR NOW!!!!! TILL THE 21ST :)

opening your heart

2011-12-07T09:59:00.000-08:00

You know how it is. You open your space up to someone new and everything changes, a wave of transformation sweeps past your subconscious. With each word that follows there is a need to keep in mind your meticulous language, content, tone. You need to prepare yourself for judgement, and to do so you need to shape your content to receive none but positives. check, doublecheck, backspace. reread. delete. but for whom?
This is why spaces should be kept private, anonymous; so the awareness of an audience does not hinder the flow of thoughts or restrain the words that come in any way. this should be free, liberating, and for no one but me.

we all have our public / private sides

Happy liberation day (sem1)

2011-11-29T06:31:00.001-08:00

This spells the end of the semester. One semester of my uni life just zoomed past. One last day of November, and then we reach the last month of 2011. I'll have to start getting used to writing 2012 (doomsyear or something?)

Below is the view of my room from where I'm sitting. Slouching more like, against my wardrobe. Sweat staining through my shirt and maybe a little on the wooden surface I'm lying on. (I went running! Alone! At 915pm! Blasting music and racing through the light drizzle amidst the cool air... Sweet, sweet liberation) No matter. I'm packing up soon! Plus the dirtiness of this place is so me. Clothes lying all over the place (but FOLDED when I was watching New Girl - new tv show woohoo), crumpled paper with folded edges (and of course bearing water stains or (liquid of some sort)), and most definitely, a very hairy floor. I thought I'd be neater when I get my own room, but I guess that inner voice is right. This IS me. Kkk I hear all you naggy mothers telling me that can be changed... So let's give next sem another try alright?

Happy, happy that I survived this well-spent semester and happy to be able to catch a breather and soar above the clouds soon... I need that, need to get away from this place, virtual social platforms and be somewhere foreign, unfamiliar, with exciting explorations that await.
And then in one of the days I'll probably wake up to an sms with my results and anticlimactically fall back asleep. Best part about this is: no December holiday homework! YIPPEE!

One more reason to love this place

2011-11-27T19:27:00.001-08:00

Free goodies!! Yummy supper!! WELFARE PACKS!!!! discovery of my to-date favorite studying candy HEHE

I love the kr hor fun EVERY MOUTHFUL MELTS IN MY MOUTH AHHHHHHHHH

ugh

2011-11-24T10:55:00.000-08:00

think i need to harden up or something.

first

2011-11-23T10:30:00.001-08:00

I broke the shell of a snail today. I was chattering loudly in the night, making my way back when my heavy clumsy feet weighed down upon the poor creature. The loud cracking of the shell pierced into the silence of the night, followed by my scream of horror and jiaf's maniacal laughter. Ran away afterwards, jumping up and down a couple of times to remember how it feels to stand upon smooth solid ground. Sorry for not looking back to see how you were. After that when showering i thought, Maybe this is what drunk drivers do, race away for a long while hoping to forget that feeling of running over something.

2011-11-20T22:06:00.001-08:00

Don't you think we dont change? That inside our 20 year old selves still lie that person that we were when we were 15? Even in uni now we still give people the same impressions don't we. Like lyn is stupid and lame and Cher is siaozharbor laughs at nothing and shan is forever annoying and teasing others and you just want to whack her butt and Daph is a bimbo always and me, just me, it's like we haven't changed from when we were 16, the impressions that we give others no matter which environment we go, no matter how old we grow. Except now we know when to Behave, to speak in a grown-up manner with curt politeness in your tone, to present yourselves intelligently in class, to tutors, to strangers, we adopt that Grown-Up Tone but when we gradually get to know the people around us better we reveal that stupid side of us that never grows up.

Another quiet night... I refuse to sleep. It's 5am and I'm lying in bed doing nothing. Can't get to sleep, don't really want to sleep. I'm not sure how I'm feeling, but the pitter-patter of the rain outside makes me melancholic for no reason. Maybe not melancholic, kind of empty, or maybe serene, it's quiet and the whole world is asleep. Had Geog today, prof chang put a mentos on my table halfway through the paper. Happiest exam moment ever! All profs should do that..:) watched a really intense episode of greys. I love that show, really. So many moral issues to ponder over. The rest of the day is in a blur, I did stupid things to crack people up, I went to the library, I had a good shower, i ate the chocolates I wanted to give kristal&ql (typical me). Life is mundane. But it'll be exciting soon, soon. 530. Time to sleep. This is so bad, I know. But I'm screwed up that way. But im feeling quiet and dull and bored and... Sigh. Happy soon-to-be-December everyone!

Edit/ I found the word!! It's CONTEMPLATIVE

2011-11-20T20:39:00.001-08:00

The red raffia string attached to my light is the best idea ever :D

my favourite kids

2011-11-19T23:32:00.001-08:00

&i am turning 20 in 2 months :'(

2011-11-07T01:39:00.000-08:00

Drafts always come in handy when I feel this need to express myself somehow (like a slight tightening of the heart) but am not sure what to say.

7/9/09

QUESTIONS WITH NO ANSWERS

I'm Seventeen, already? It's quite strange when you say it out loud. I'm seventeen years old.
I never thought I'd be seventeen. I used to read about seventeen year olds and think about how I'll never reach that age. I read about the parties that they hold and all the (then) seemingly mature things they do and now, thinking about it, where's all these things that I'm supposed to do as a seventeen year old anyway?

When are we ever mature? I thought I was mature when I was primary 6. I remember thinking, "I'm quite mature already aren't I. How much more mature do I have to be?" And what does mature really mean anyway. Is there a sudden magical moment where we just turn mature? Or does maturity creep in slowly, like a shadow at the back of a door.

Of course, the fact that I'm typing this clearly shows how I'm not mature. Enough.
I guess.

ma⋅ture [muh-toor, -tyoor, -choor, -chur] Show IPA adjective, -tur⋅er, -tur⋅est, verb, -tured, -tur⋅ing.
Use mature in a Sentence
–adjective
1. complete in natural growth or development, as plant and animal forms: a mature rose bush.
2. ripe, as fruit, or fully aged, as cheese or wine.
3. fully developed in body or mind, as a person: a mature woman.
4. pertaining to or characteristic of full development: a mature appearance; fruit with a mature softness.
5. completed, perfected, or elaborated in full by the mind: mature plans.
6. (of an industry, technology, market, etc.) no longer developing or expanding; having little or no potential for further growth or expansion; exhausted or saturated.
7. intended for or restricted to adults, esp. by reason of explicit sexual content or the inclusion of violence or obscene language: mature movies.
8. composed of adults, considered as being less susceptible than minors to explicit sexual content, violence, or obscene language, as of a film or stage performance: for mature audiences only.
9. Finance. having reached the limit of its time; having become payable or due: a mature bond.
10. Medicine/Medical.
a. having attained definitive form or function, as by maturation of an epithelium from a basal layer.
b. having attained the end stage of a normal or abnormal biological process: a mature boil.
11. Geology. (of a landscape) exhibiting the stage of maximum topographical diversity, as in the cycle of erosion of a land surface.

The dictionary doesnt quite define it, somehow.

11/9/09

How do you tell a person that you miss them anyway? Or that you appreciate them, or that you want to cherish them? And how do you cherish someone when the person's not leaving; even being good to the person all the time, is that cherishing? Isn't cherishing something special, some special sort of treatment? And if it is, then if we behave specially all the time, that's not cherishing anymore is it? (and how do we cherish all the time)

How do you tell a person that you will miss them. I dont like to say such things (especially face to face) because it's weird, and (stubbornly) I've never felt the need to say it because I've always believed that the other party should know, there's no need to express your feelings cos no matter what the other party should know you well enough to know that you do. Right?

2011-11-03T04:52:00.001-07:00

2011-11-01T05:24:00.000-07:00

It is very interesting talking to exchange students and gathering their insights on our tiny island. We are a small civilization with too much going on with our lives, everyday we're moving so quickly, following social orders and going about our busy ways. It is interesting to obtain views of our country, as a "goldmine", a "somewhat Communist state", so that's what other countries thought of us? I'm thinking of how we categorize high school - the jocks, the geeks, the snobs, the goths, the cool, the rich, the savvy. So if countries were labelled the same way, which category would we fall into...

---

Goodluck concert! As usual, I finished the doorgift (a pack of sweets) within 5 minutes upon entrance.

Band, shacca, dance. Emceeing, drama. All these cultural performances I never wanted to join. If I were given a chance to trace my path again - skip to a different timeline - which would it be? Would I choose the same? I'm not sure, I would love to be all of these. Watching the way they shine under the spotlight, beam with confidence (there's something very attractive about that) - I wonder how it feels, to have the crowd cheering after you, and to know at heart that at the very least, you are good at something. You can sing, you can move your body, you can strut across the stage confidently and make the crowd go wild - where do you get that strength to do so? Everyone has their talent, everyone is inclined towards something, I realized. We have music, we have movement, we have intelligence, we have creativity, we have eloquence, we have fitness, we are all good in our own ways. Which timeline would I like to be in? I'm not sure either.

In any case, tonight was good, I miss concerts. If I'm not staying on next year, this would be my last... Till 5 years later when I get back to school! I've grown to appreciate concerts over the years, because they reveal that talent behind the people we never knew about. "I didn't know you could sing so well!" I feel a swell of pride for these people, I'm happy for them for being able to show the world what they're capable of. These are people we walk past everyday, but on stage they are somebody else, they've got the crowd's attention and awe, I envy them for being able to do what they do.

We're all good at something, in our own ways. We're all capable of doing something that others can't do. yes yes this is true

Times like this I remember why I chose hall. I need things like this to keep me from leading a meaningless life of time-wasting. This place gives me the reason to pull myself away from my books and remember that there's so many more things to do with my time than refresh sgflea / fb for the millionth time, pick up new skills and discover new or old sides of myself. Everyone deserves opportunities like this, a moment for them to shine and attain glory and attention for that moment for themselves, and remember how good they are.

That somewhat sheepish smile that hides a tinge of pride as they recall

Airbrush tattoos

2011-10-29T08:22:00.001-07:00

2011-10-23T23:13:00.001-07:00

what I could have been

2011-10-22T12:28:00.001-07:00

From young, whenever the magician scoured for a volunteer among the crowd of kids my heart would palpitate wildly as I look down and around and everywhere else but his eyes, praying with all my heart that he wouldn't call on me. He never did, much to my relief. All the same I never, ever raised my hands to answer questions nor race up the stage with the other kids to snag a chance to win a prize. Even lucky draws, I found myself begging my sister to ascend the stage on my behalf. And so now when I look at the little girls flagging their hands wildly, eyes shining with excitement as they pray to be called upon, I wonder why I wasn't like this. I wish I could have been the ever-eager child that runs to the front desk to carry her teacher's books, to answer questions I clearly knew the answers to. How is it that I'm different from these people? Is it because of the presence of my sister and my eventual reliability on her dominance to do things like this? Are characters are not set in stones from the beginning, or was this attribute of mine long set upon the time I was born?

I SURVIVED! I SURVIVED!!

2011-10-21T00:37:00.001-07:00

IT'S FRIDAY FRIDAY

SO MANY THINGS TO DO IT'S NOT EVEN FUN(NY)

2011-10-19T10:30:00.000-07:00

-hyperventilates while getting crushed by the world's happenings-

Thankyou List #189:

2011-10-08T23:18:00.000-07:00

For always being there when I cry. I think I have cried more than 300 times over the past 3 years, out of which an insignificant number would be over you. Most of the time it's over silly matters, silly matters in which I would usually be fully capable of pushing aside, slowly forgotten. But when I start talking to you about it my emotions let loose somehow and slowly the waterworks start and before I know it I am sobbing (sometimes bawling) and all I want is to have you hold me in your arms and rock me gently, passing me rolls after rolls of tissues while wiping the tears and mucus off my face and laughing every now and then at how silly I am. And then when I finally get tired of making a din I smile sheepishly and look at the pile of tissues next to us and close my eyes and lean back, and you, ever so gently, you run your fingers through my hair. And then slowly I laugh, and I am soothed, and I am happy again. And that's the way it has always been.

Forever this photo will be the one that thoroughly encapsulates the essence of our relationship. This is how I feel with you, a thousand words of happiness neatly summed up in 3-megapixeled, 300 x 400 px frame. Has it already been three years? We were sixteen, two shadows giggling along the corner of the rooftop...

This was how it was, and this is how it is, and this is how it will be.

2011-10-07T11:44:00.001-07:00

Good morning! I have officially turned nocturnal. In a way I like it, it's a form of empowerment I suppose, like I can defy Sleep, Fatigue and the Passing of Time. Unearthly hours? Unearthly no more!

Abs still aching from last training, I love that feeling, and I love it that I love that.

Rough week is over, I am happy and chirpy again. For this weekend, just for this weekend of course.

Looking through my drafts always brings about an odd sensation

From 31st May 2010:

Dear blog,

Today marks your 6th birthday (omg thats scarily old) We met when I was 12, all childish and disgusting (ugh i cringe when i look at my archives, thats why i dont) and look at me now, older, smarter, wiser, intelligent-er, bitchier... you get my point.

In any case, thank you for always being there for me. You, + the countless drafts in my previous sony ericsson phone (about 100?) + notepads in com + scribbles in random pages + my diaries = the story of my life. It's interesting to note how I started writing about my life since... 8? Miss Wendy Tan made us write journals. I loved them. I really did. I loved the way she dotted the eyes of her smileys with circles rather than my plain, ugly fat dots. And her wavy hair...

Digressing.

So she was the one who started my habit of writing diaries. Primary 2. Wrote to her weekly. She left. She gave me a red notebook. (only me!! i loved how biased she was hehe) I wrote in that. I didnt fill up that book. I stopped when the pages were soaked (I dont remember why, i just have this image of the stained pages)

P3. Blue flower diary filled with complaints about Sis. How I'm 'not going to friend her forever'. How much I hate her. How I'm never going to talk to her again. And my classic "Sigh I forgave her again", punctuated with sad crying faces. And the cycle repeats.

P4/P5/P6. Mixture of blue flower diary and yellow locked diary (the one i wrote abt my crush, N, and also abt yesigotmyp <- i wrote that 3 times in cursive (the image in my mind now) -coughs- )
Like this:

yesigotmyp
yesigotmyp
yesigotmyp

(in font size 1, yes)

I stopped writing in the yellow one after Sis unlocked that and teased me about my crush :@ :@ :@ Never filled that up even to the halfway mark.
Cream forever friends bear diary = I distinctly remember the red ink I used, i read it afew years ago and I was disgusted at how bitchy and competitive I used to be.
In primary school. I never knew!! I guess I used to be more honest with myself, not caring about how others would judge me.

I filled up 3/4 of that.

Most successful = blue flower diary, which consisted of plot summary of Shrek (first movie), first airplane ride + ticket attached - 45mins plane ride to KL got me so thrilled then, escape theme park, swissgarden hotel, which bears to bring + guilt, List of People Whom I hope Like me Most, List of People whom I hope Dislike me, List of People whom I think Likes me most (Gramma hahahhahhahahh)
I can still vaguely remember that list, at the last page of the book.

I miss writing diaries. I didnt even care about crappy handwritings. But now typing's so much easier. Still, nothing can replace that kiddish element that remains in handwriting, yes? That's sad. I shouldnt be typing, I should be writing so that I can look back afew years from now and be like "omg my handwriting used to suck so much" and laugh at myself. That would be nice.

So this means that I almost have my life story in words. P 2 - P6 on paper, P2 bright blue journals are gone now, one of the biggest regrets of my life was not keeping them. I didnt care about them. I left them lying in some ugly grey shelf in Khatib, not knowing how much they'd mean to me now. So wherever you are, blue notebooks, thanks for everything.

The rest of you, I know I still have blue flower diary, creamy I'm not sure. I love you guys. + You, blog, I love you.

Thanks for always being there for me, for the most of my life. & Always will be. You know almost all of my secrets............... (almost, but need to decipher)
I swear if you were to ever die someday I would cry for you.
For me.

YAY!!! :)

I'm getting all ranty these days because THIS, -SILENCED.BLOGSPOT.COM is a SPACE for me. This is a space for me to release pent-up tension faced from the everyday spaces, a space for me to reflect upon my identity, this is my SPACE. AND THIS SPACE HOLDS MEANING TO ME.

Going all crazy from school am anticipating Korea in, as of Sunday, exactly 2 months' time

2011-10-02T01:31:00.000-07:00

Inbox is swarmed with emails

Netball training last week was... humorous, in some sense. We did the EXACT drills we used to do in Sec 1, the passes, the square, the L thing, the down-ten when you drop balls / last pair to finish 20 passes. That was... 6 years ago. Doing the drills that first I did 6 years ago under Mr Liu, it was... weird. It was strange, everything was oddly familiar. It was strange and somewhat comical because I felt like I was revisiting history, learning drills again for the first time with a team, except this time I wasn't sec 1, I am old and I am not that blur girl who was very often the last to get the drills, heading in the wrong directions, always screwing up the whole square. I love the feel of sweat trickling down my legs, shirt drenched in perspiration. How could I have forgotten about that? How could I have forgotten the sense of liberty as we race down the court in the night, hair flying against the wind? How could I have forgotten the triumph of racing for the ball? Grabbing it firmly, possessively, it's yours, it can only be yours. I loved running, I loved netball, I hate competitiveness. I don't like competition and the pressure it exerts on me. I don't like expectations, I don't like feeling lousy and judged. I like playing, playing for the sake of playing, for the sake of laughing and jumping around like a monkey and bursting into giggles when I don't shoot in after the umpteenth try. I don't like competition and 'professionality' and not being able to keep up. SRC took some part of my love away, SRC trainings were tough and I wasnt tough enough. I dont like straining myself to the extent of feeling like it's torture, because then I ask myself: What am I doing this for? I need a strong support system to get me through tough times. I am not a tough person, I dont like pressure unless it's something we can all go through together. And Anderson netball has given me that. I didn't join VJ Netball because I didnt like the vibe. I don't like feeling inadequate, or having any possibility of feeling like I'm not good enough, like I have to improve. It is a flaw, a great flaw, this thing. This constant dissatisfaction with yourself. To some extent it is a worm, a worm eating up parts of yourself slowly if you aren't careful, until you lie bitten, miserable, unsatisfied and alone.

This week has been a tough week to some extent, because I am moody and vexed and trying to juggle everything and yet trying to find time for myself. I need alot of time and space for myself, I think. I'm glad I have my own room in Sheares. The thought of not being able to be alone even after school hours is somewhat suffocating. I love free time when I can wander off alone, alone in the library, contemplative, where I can drift off in my thoughts, do whatever I want, ....

Perpetual list of things to do.

2011-09-30T00:52:00.001-07:00

Is there anything I should be grateful for from this? To learn from here? I think yes, there is a hell lot of things for me to learn about myself. And the first thing I need to tell myself is to have faith in myself. I need to stand firm against rebuttals, their air of confidence may blow me away but I need to learn to be firm, to stand firm on the ground and NOT be pushed back. I need to learn to raise my voice (raise louder still) and be SURE about the things I say, or rather the things I know. I need to stop feeling depressed over feeling stupid because I'm not stupid, or at least I'm not stupid at certain things and I need to remember that. And so what can I say from here? I'll see what happens and when a miracle happens I will look back in the future and wave this victoriously like a prize whenever I feel low

2011-09-30T00:17:00.001-07:00

Would like to lock myself in a 4-cornered whitewashed room for the next week

1

2011-09-25T10:22:00.000-07:00

2011-09-20T11:07:00.001-07:00

Feeling oddly jittery of sorts. Want to do work but every now and then my brain drifts off to something else.... So here's my day.

My day started with the noon, had vegetarian Maggie mee for brunch because it was pouring outside and I was lazy to buy food.

My lunch is as shown below. Vegetarian Maggie mee, with 1/10 of the seasoning, because. I took 10 minutes to prepare that but only 4 minutes to finish it. It was not satisfying. At all.

Finished half a chapter on Gender and Sexuality, which brought back memories of being called a "tomboy" once, though looking at my current self now I think I have been largely socialized. Social sanctions are particularly effective for me because I am a wimp when it comes to judgment from others.

Dinner, good currypuff. Netball trials, brought back good old memories of GIANT days. 2 rounds around bball court vs 20 rounds in the past. Half court, breaks, feel sweat soaking through my shirt, trickling down my legs. Happy. Different, but happy nonetheless.

2am, my bedtime has stretched way past that. How terrible it is, to have adopted this habit. But that thought itself will not stop me I'm afraid, because I love time, I need time, and I would want to have as much of it as I can grab hold of.

2011-09-19T10:11:00.001-07:00

I don't actually believe that people change, though. I believe that no matter how much one appears to have changed, deep within him/herself in the dusty, forgotten corner of his/her heart will always, always lie that younger self, only waiting to be found again. I believe it takes only one good, long conversation with that one "changed" person to realize that no, deep inside, the person you knew still exists, all but waiting to be uncovered.

2011-09-13T08:40:00.000-07:00

This is something that's crossed my mind for quite awhile now:

You either go 'friends', or 'acquaintance', or 'strangers'.

There is strong difficulty in moving from once-acquaintances to friends while surrounded by a group of friends who were too, once in your acquaintance-shoes - but have moved past that stage; it becomes painfully awkward because in your current state, you are neither here nor there. You are not a complete stranger, so there is no way to go about introducing "hello, which school were you from, how did you guys meet" because you already know. There is hardly room for polite conversations. And at the same time it is difficult to put on that persona because once the "polite-strangers-friendly" thing begins, one statement proudly hurls itself in the air- we are awkward acquaintances who are speaking for the mere sake of being polite. And if so, why am I here? Am I here to make friends, to move from the acquaintance stage? But how so when the rest of you are already so far ahead? I am but a single spot at the bottom of the hill; how hard do I have to climb to catch up? And even if I could, what for?

2011-09-13T08:27:00.001-07:00

Doing the most bizzaire things now and taking them as it comes, things years ago I'd swear I wouldnt ever do. Licking James' hairy legs and drinking water from jolene's belly and silently thinking "whew, it's not that bad" upon hearing the task but outwardly groaning and moaning. Watching the guys French and sucking toes. Seriously, welcome to varsity life (?)

choppy drafts

2011-09-13T08:16:00.000-07:00

.. Desperately trying to capture as many moments as possible, these frozen moments of happiness and smiles. Something to look back upon and think, in that very instant, we were laughing like 2 silly girls in the background, we were young and we were happy. It was almost frantic, her gestures, like she was trying as hard as she could to fit the people she loved into the white rectangular frame and carry them along with her, pieces of happiness stacked together or strung along her wall.

On my last Friday off-day, I walked around in search of useful materials and came home sporting a shade of brown/red highlights which, regretfully or not, can only clearly be seen under the scintillating glare of the sun. Finally, another strike off the Post A's to-do list. Now that this 9months break is gradually reaching its end, I am once again unfailingly stunned by how quickly time flies. My last long holiday is going to be over. Upon reflection of how I've spent it... I think I spent it well, I think this with a satisfied grin. I gained love for Greys Anatomy, the office, watched Steve Carrell leave, had my first go at gmarket, first mailing of parcel, first job with a 4 digit pay, signed my next 10 years away, sent a drunk friend home (as sadistic as that sounds. Is that not, afterall, the true mark of a friendship?;))

--

We have now stepped upon the month of July. 4 last weeks here, I count silently, 4 more lessons with my kids. I felt a jolt of sadness at that thought, and was surprised at that. It is with such subconscious emotional reactions that one truly realizes the attachment one feels. How should I tell them. Should I? And would that really matter?

At 2am, on the last day of June, I realized: After months of much whining and frustrated talks of leaving, I don't really want to leave. But that is my heart speaking, my tender heart entrapped by a web of emotional connections and sentimentalism speaking aloud. In the long run these webs will break slowly, some without my knowledge, and forgotten.

(update: i know myself too well)

2011-09-11T23:27:00.001-07:00

Using blogger app = hopefully I'll be more faithful in updating :) much has happened, it's pretty hard to believe that more than a month has passed.

Until next time :)

2011-08-10T10:44:00.000-07:00

Good morning from Sheares C516! Birds hum along merrily

homojalleh

2011-08-07T11:09:00.000-07:00

Kelong trip was a success :) Should I be proud or should I be guilty? I suppose either emotion would be tinged by the other. This is, afterall, a breakthrough for myself of sorts? Carpe diem!

So this is liberty, I thought as we rode across the mighty sea. I watched the trail of waves crash next to me, screaming "Liberty! Liberty!" So this is liberty! Droplets of liberty clinging on my hair, the taste of salty liberty on the corners of my lips. The howling wind cheers me on as my hair races freely in the wind.

2011-08-03T01:38:00.000-07:00

I am amazed at how little sleep I'm getting by
2 hours last night, woke up at 4am
at 2am I thought: how am i going to survive
but i did

and so this is the beginning of
days that blend into nights and nights that blend into days
of untimely hours rescheduled and stuffed into my sleeping patterns
of suppers to come, and a tummy to follow
i experience again the familiar fatigue that is followed by the urge to fight sleep, conquer time

in a zombie-like state currently but still functioning, but in a zombie-like monotonous state, thus the lack of the single dot to distinguish each sentence

flag day, ahma looking people are the best, i had the heaviest tin can (heh heh)

speaking of ahmas: gramma stitched pieces of my childhood memories together to form a snuggly blanket that keeps me warm at night

tweety bird: shorts

hello kitty and that chick thing piyoyo(?): old small blankie

brownish cloth thing: the other side of the old small blankie which i used to dig my nose with

got a new computer

need a new pillow

haven't rattled off about my day for quite a while now

goodbye! goodbye! goodbye day in about 5 seconds while i drift off...

ephemeral

2011-07-28T10:41:00.001-07:00

I have words to say but I'm not sure what they are. Clutters of them stumble clumsily upon my tongue, others entrapped by the entwining threads of thoughts. But it is a quiet night; the fan whirls softly above me, softening the trickling rush of water from someone's room. Every now and then footsteps march past the left of my window, playfully accompanied by a chorus of roaring laughter (each decibel tinged with a hint of suppression, of course). The Birds and the Bees play softly, in perfect rhythm with the clacking of the keys - the embracing silence prods gently against my Thought Bank, spilling some of its seeds.

3 am, I rub my eyes blearily every now and then but I am not yet asleep. Bright, bold words flash ahead with every blink of an eye: DISTANCE. TIME. SPACE. TIME. SPACE. DISTANCE.

2011-07-18T06:24:00.000-07:00

teeth growing

first lollipop which was, unfortunately, sourplum-flavoured...

May 10, with regards to the Last Day of Employment

I, as any other human beings do, enjoy compliments. At the same time i hate compliments.
"We are very happy with your performance"
I feel a swell of pride that i hastily swallow as i nod politely. Sometimes I add a "thank you", fully conscious of doing so. With compliments come along a set of expectations; when i hear a praise i here not only the positive but also the subtle (and probably self-conjoured) undertone: you need to keep this up. And in this way, with a compliment it feels as though pressure is heavily exerted on me to remain like this forever. I dread the day in which something I do changes your mind, to make you want to take back what you said, to think "oh, to think i told her that before..." (with a shake of the head).
The unnecessary pressure, while providing affirmation, would be far better left undiscovered. In that sense I suppose i would far prefer subtle compliments and affirmations: a thank you and an appreciative smile, for example, instead of the spoken words of praise? At least the subtlety leaves me some room to misbehave and foil the unspoken and hence almost non-existant expectations. Voicing these out actualizes these expectations, bringing them into my consciousness, and in that way, i am helplessly entrapped in these imposed ideals.

(This is, of course, my self-imposed misery, but this is the way i have always been.)

you say A house number 3, we will do it with a tree

2011-06-23T09:56:00.000-07:00

ambit and armpit goes together ~

Arts camp has come to an end, a happy end. I am exhausted, shouldering a sleep debt of more than 60hours, having closed my eyes for an average of 3hours each night (but i think: Jacob has it worse)
I am snuggling in my comfy bed but at the same time remembering the table that I had no problem snoozing soundly on each night. I wonder, are all the campers reflecting on the camp like me and relishing the memories? Could it be possible that at this exact moment, all of us are carrying thoughts of our freshly-formed memories?

I had a lot of fun, no doubt (yeah man!) I feel like I'm slowly integrating myself into uni life. I can see myself strolling around corridors in sloppy shirts and floppy slippers. NUS will be my home, Sheares will be my home. I will buy Milo everyday from the drinks stall, and the banana milkshake every now and then. I will doze off each night to the quiet swirling of the fan. I will have problems taking a dump in school, but that's something I'm going to have to get used to. I am excited, for all that is to come, really excited but at the same time waiting with trepidation, for all that is to come.

this is going to be a good year, i can almost feel it (probably carrying post-camp optimism)

This is, in truth, a life-changing moment for me (of sorts) I have never imagined myself to be in this position, in a way I've never expected myself to be able to. But I am happy, holding the letter in my hand for the first time, I am happy.
This is what I've always wanted to be. I don't know why my opinions get swayed so easily. Last night gramma told me "Siangyee, do not care about what others think, most importantly you have go think for yourself and what you want to be."

...
I love you :) Be happy always.

--

Human are always yearning for some form of interaction with others, are we not? Our subconscious desire for connection with another living soul is externalized through our physical change in voice and behavior accordingly. When we see a baby, we make cooing sounds to communicate with the young soul, with cats we make tiny mewing sounds. And of course the desire for human contact... A tickle of a baby, a pinch of her tender cheeks, the instinctive surge of desire to run your fingers through his bald scalp, scratch the behind of the ears of a pet. A hug, linking fingers... Enough to stretch the corners of our lips into a smile.

--

a month ago, when i first registered the idea of departure:

Okay.. so this is it. This is the part where I say goodbye. This is the part where i put on an air of nonchalence, push all thoughts to the dusty gray box at the back of my head and stare blankly ahead. I will shove the racing questions and horrid thoughts of all changes and endings behind the black veil, draw a sheet of white curtain across. I will gently hold my sinking heart afloat. I will sweep the dusts of anxiety - particles of fear and nervousness slowly, quietly falling - sweep them under the carpet of mute temporal denial. I will compose myself, and I will be me. And a little less.

But I'll miss you, and surely that's not something I need to tell.

2011-06-14T19:46:00.000-07:00

5 Things You Can Do To Make A Quiet Person Feel Bad
JUN. 14, 2011 By BRANDON SCOTT GORRELL

1. Ask the quiet person why he’s so quiet

Asking a quiet person why he’s so quiet is probably the easiest and most effective way of making him feel bad. “Why are you so quiet,” you’ll ask, a vaguely amused and curious expression on your face, as if the quiet person was merely a cute child serving as amusement for a group of inquisitive adults. “Uh…” the quiet person will stammer, failing to make eye contact, and most likely noticing that he’s failing to make eye contact. “I don’t know. Am I quiet? I’m just this way…” Here follows from the quiet person a string of mumbling not discernable to the listener.

The problem with asking a quiet person why he’s so quiet is multifaceted: a) because severe quietude in social situations runs counter to public convention, it’s not unreasonable for the typical quiet person to be at least somewhat embarrassed for his quietness; as such, by asking why he’s so quiet, you’re essentially asking him: “why aren’t you normal?,” and b) because quiet people generally wish to speak only when they feel they have something important to say, responding to the sudden question of why they’re so quiet (to which they never have a comprehensive answer) is both unsettling and difficult to do. So – if you want to make a quiet person feel bad – start with this one simple question.

2. Repeatedly ask the quiet person if they’re upset about something and/or if she’s ok. When she assures you she’s ok, respond: “Really? Are you sure? You’re just being so quiet.”

Repeatedly asking a quiet person if she’s upset and/ or if she’s “ok” will elicit more or less the same bad feelings of low self-worth and social discomfort as asking a quiet person why she’s so quiet. However, this line of questioning differs in that it adds an element of repeated annoyance and growing anxiety to the quiet person’s emotional equation. Use this strategy if you want to be rid of the quiet person quickly, as her discomfort will grow so rapidly that she’ll feel almost forced to extricate herself from the situation.

3. Introduce the quiet person to a group as a “quiet person” or by saying, “he’s really quiet.”

By introducing the quiet person to a group as a “quiet person” – or by telling the group that the quiet person is “really quiet” – the quiet person is instantly a) categorized without having input, perhaps ruining any chance of making their own first impression and b) denied the option of being seen as a normal social individual, in the case that today is one of the days that the quiet person was planning on trying to enhance his conversational output to “normal.” On top of making the quiet person feel bad, this strategy doubly serves to isolate the quiet person from the group, as humans are generally more likely to desire bonding with those who display characteristics of being open to communication and sharing; it also gives you bonus points for being an inconsiderate dick.

4. In group conversation, stop the conversation to ask for the quiet person’s input

In a large conversation, quiet people are quiet because a) they think everyone in the conversation is an asshole, b) they don’t know anything about the topic and hand and thus would rather let those who appear or pretend to know about the topic at hand do the talking, c) they’re not interested in the conversation, or d) they don’t have anything to say. As such, when you stop conversation to ask for the quiet person’s input, you’re just forcing her to do something she doesn’t want to do while all eyes are upon her. If any type of person talks only when she feels she has something important to say, it’s the quiet person. Therefore, stopping the conversation to ask for the quiet person’s input is an excellent strategy for making the quiet person feel bad.

5. Make fun of the quiet person for being “so serious,” then tell him to “lighten up”

If there’s one question quiet people get all the time, it’s: “Why are you so serious?” There’s possibly nothing more frustrating to the quiet person, who’s simply minding his own business – not bothering anyone – than being assaulted with the sudden accusation that he is being “really serious” and that he needs to “lighten up” because “life’s too short to be moping around all the time” or something. This type of questioning is sure to put you at odds with the quiet person and generally create an uncomfortable situation you both want to get out of.

Source: thoughtcatalog

jumbled timeline

2011-06-06T09:30:00.000-07:00

The sands of time are slipping far too quickly out of my fingers. I need a quiet moment to organize my thoughts, but they scramble all over the place and beyond my reach, so pictures will have to do.

New pillowcase:

This is the solution to the wailing babies furiously kicking their legs to avoid going to bed. Upon seeing their friendly cotton faces, would they be able to resist Zola the Bunny, Mike the Dino and many others? These adorable pillowcases will sweep the wailing kids off their feet and on to dreamland, where they'll explore the exciting world of Zola and friends.

zzz

Hello Mike! excited over cute pillowcase

little tiny baby hehehe

Sigh... will you look at that?? Her teeth!! I have a polaroid with her smiling with teeth! Baby teeth! Baby milk teeth!!!!!!! -am immensely excited grinning at my com screen-

Kayla's walking now, tiny clumsy steps across the floor. I cannot explain how happy I am to be able to witness all of these- to be given the opportunity to catch a glimpse of the joy of parenting, all without having to bear the heavy burden of motherhood. (think CAD poems)
I see a change each week: Longer hair, brighter eyes, a scream, tiny babbles, from sitting up, to crawling, and now walking, soon she'll be running, screaming with joy, questioning endlessly the enormous world around her.

We'll take her out, sing ABC, go for trips (Jacob Ballas Garden)! I'm really excited, really really am.

me chasing

Lately I've been thinking quite abit about parenting, what with Kayla yk-yl and Rafflesians all around. But like I said awhile ago to someone special (isn't it fun? And somewhat exciting? Such ambiguity. You will be scratching your head thinking "huh? Does she mean me? So she's saying I'm a special someone to her?" and you'll never ask, and thats the fun part :)), sometimes when thoughts pass through your head you have ample energy and 'magic' in these thoughts to share it only with one: and if I choose to share it with you, I am choosing to sprinkle the droplets of magic on the seed of friendship between us. Which is how I came to the idea that maybe, well, I wouldn't want to be my child's favorite person afterall. Why not let her give that space to someone else? Afterall, we are already by kismet bounded by our familial ties. I shouldn't hog too much of her heart, as much as I (by nature) would like to. I want her to find special people to fill up the special positions in her heart: best friend, most special friend, funniest friend, favorite acquaintance, eyecandy, biggest crush, first boyfriend, favorite boyfriend. As much as I'd like to know every single secret of hers, I think that for each secret that is uttered from the lips of one, the power of each is dampened with every word to the next person. So yes, I would rather she spend her secrets wisely to fill up the Special People in the rooms of her heart.

Adorable gramma, happy

I had fun with the Tham sisters my last weekend

biotech

had fun looking at pampers

i love the person on the left very much

vv funny moment

Right now, at this very moment, I am happy. Not ecstatic, not in that way, just quietly, thoughtfully happy. Last week I was tired and I was stressed. This week, albeit facing the beckoning 7.5 consecutive hours of lessons, I am merely taking it with a nod. I feel like my capacity has stretched a bit. It may not exactly be a good thing, but I suppose I can take in comfort that mentally, I am a little better than before.

2011-06-01T17:56:00.000-07:00

I am too ashamed to articulate what has happened today to anyone.
This always happens, this inability to hold back my emotions. In the lecture hall, in the canteen, at the bus stop, the most public of places. I want to grab these loose nerves firmly by the reins and if they do struggle, I want to let them loose, quietly, within the private space of my own corner. Not sudden outbursts flung across all corners that freeze the people around me in shock. This has happened not once, not twice, not thrice... It isn't uncountably many, such incidents, but they are more than I can bear. I need to stop being such a baby. this is embarrassing, and it only puts others in a spot. Make them behave oddly just to make sure I'm fine. Over the teeniest things too, this only provides a platform for future lunchtime conversations.

The day after: I am merely cringing from the memory of my puerile lack of control

2011-05-29T05:41:00.000-07:00

“There’s a reason I said I’d be happy alone. It wasn’t ‘cause I thought I’d be happy alone. It was because if I thought I loved someone and then it fell apart, I might not make it. It’s easier to be alone. Because what if you learn that you need love and then you don’t have it. What if you like it and lean on it? What if you shape your life around it and then it falls apart. Can you even survive that kind of pain? Losing love is like organ damage, it’s like dying. The only difference is death ends… this… it can go on forever.”
— Meredith Grey, Grey’s anatomy

2011-05-12T08:18:00.000-07:00

Good morning virtualworld! It's been quite a while since I last updated. So we're reaching mid-May now... and soon we'll find ourselves in June. June, for me, has always been significant- for the mere fact that it marks the "half of the year". And of course the June holidays.

Half a year. How did half a year fly by?

Then months will pass again and the next time i stop to look at the calendar would be August, where i step into campus as a university freshman.

I have eradicated sports from my life, and i am reluctant to step back into the sporting world once again. My self-conscious competitive spirit makes things difficult for me, imposing unnecessary stress on myself, with me excessively pondering over whether i suck and always trying not to suck or look like i suck... i have given up on those days of sports. No doubt those were lovely days, but i am no longer that netballer prancing around with tireless energy. I am now a seemingly fragile "demure" (UGH UGH UGHHHHH) gu niang. For awhile after graduation from Anderson I was sad. Draft from a year ago (195 days to be exact, according to my Notes)

"Watching the list shrink by itself. Running barely 100m to the bus stop and I'm panting and my heart is pumping too quickly, contracting too much. I smile at myself (what I've become) but sometimes the thought lingers for a little too long and I feel sad, like Lurie I am gradually declining. And over the years I will. Slowly but surely the lines in the list will erode one by one until I'm left with.. Hmm, studying? Yes maybe. How sad.
How do you measure your self worth? There used to be 4, then 3, then 2, things that I thought maybe I was good at, maybe there is something special about me that gives me a reason to say i am good though I may suck at other things. But not anymore, not really. How sad."

it is so much easier to bring these things up now that i am no longer in that state of vulnerability

also, i will not be questioned because these are 'sad things of the past' that will no longer be raked up

it is also convenient to say that "that was the me then, the younger, foolish self that i was. i have grown from there"

254 days ago: "I like to quote myself because it feels less real"
i like the exactitude of these dates.

But i have gotten over that and i have moved on and i am satisfied with my lift-taking, exercise-free, daily-bubble-tea-drinking lifestyle. The thought of stepping into that world again would mean another cycle of exhaustible trying. Go through another painful reminder of how weak i am now. So what for, really, what for? Why take this so seriously, right? Boo. Moving on.

"There is something nice about staying in the classroom on a rainy day. I walk past the cold corridors trying not to peer into windows, hugging my dinner to my chest as my stomach growls. Upon reaching my homely space I shut the door, letting the warmth seep through my body, the whole room and my family.
There is something nice about saying hi to the neighbours you know, not saying hi to the neighbors you know by face and not by name.
"How are you!"
We exchange words of encouragement, smiling as we hurry along.
Outside the raindrops patter heavily on the ground, the symphony of rain! someone once said. The fan hums merrily with the rain as I stretch towards the sky, my legs propped up high on the table. I chew noisily on my pizza and look up to see my love mouthing words to a love song, and as I close my eyes to listen, I smile."
- 177 days ago

My lovely Saturdays :)

I have to admit though, it'll take me some time to adjust to the emptier nights. I know it's bad but I guess I've grown used to just picking up the phone having someone to scold whenever I feel bored. Scolding is a really fun thing to do, added with expletives. And blaming and grumbling. And making angry grunts of frustration like "urggghhhh!!!!" I think it's one of the funnest and funniest thing to do in the world. Even as I'm typing this I'm laughing at the memories :)

- 174 days ago with regards to the eventual enlistment of my ever-existing tantrum sack

everyone loves cute babies

By the way, on my way to work this morning i (suddenly! randomly!) thought of an intellectual riddle:

what is a non-living thing that survives on oxygen

heh heh heh

Goodnight all!

allow me to confess for i am determined

2011-05-12T08:00:00.000-07:00

The first step to addressing a problem is to acknowledge that it is a problem.
So here I am: I have a problem.
I hereby declare the start of my road to recovery; may my pull-free-athlon begin today and end with a thick and shiny success. ;)

2011-05-11T18:13:00.000-07:00

I had some trouble in persuading my publishers that the story could end with the little prince's death. They believe no story for children should end that way. I disagree with them. Children accept all natural things and adjust without harmful disturbances. The adults are the ones who give them wrong attitudes, who distort their notions of the natural. I don't believe that death had to be morbid. No child is going to be upset by the going of the little prince. It's just a part of things as they are.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Onomatopoeia

2011-05-03T21:06:00.000-07:00

The Sound of Happy

What is the sound of happy?
Is it hands clapping
Is it the thump of you heart in your chest?
Is it the zoom of the planes overhead

Is it the haha
the absence of boo-hoo-hoo
What is the sound of happy to you?

- Unknown

2011-04-25T19:16:00.001-07:00

I am so so sad. The moment Will Ferrell appeared I felt this immediate disapproval of him, not because he isnt good - he could be, I can't see it yet - but because I feel the need to stay loyal to michael, and to prove so I can't like his substitute, much less give him a chance. Michael Scott is IRREPLACEABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!

The transition's been quite smooth though, at least they didnt try to shove Will's funniness down our throats- he was quite mean, so it was acceptable. I can't even blame anyone for Michael's departure, since i wanted holly and michael to be together.

I quote this article, which eloquently pieces my jumbled thoughts into words:

We form relationships with TV show characters in a way that extends to no other medium, deepening and complicating those connections as the seasons turn. With the passage of so much time, we have to allow for at least some amount of development, or we’ll be watching the same episode over and over again.

To some extent, though, we rely on television as a form of reliable comfort. Every week we tune in to the lives of our favorite characters, wrapping ourselves in the false idea that they’ll be there forever.

When those characters’ paths are diverted, or stopped short, we’re forced suddenly to face a grim reality. If you ever need proof that humans maintain an illusion of immortality, just watch a group of die-hard fans when their beloved show gets cancelled.

So maybe there’s no good way for Steve Carell to leave “The Office.” Maybe it doesn’t matter who replaces him – we’ll all be mourning the TV death of Michael Scott, rendering all future laughs bittersweet.

It might have helped, though, if “The Office” were leaving too. No matter how much we loved Jim and Pam’s love story, or laughed in disbelief at Dwight, this was always Carell’s show, and to watch it carry on without him, even with his blessing, bears a hint of scandal.

Well I guess at least there's still Dwight.... -does his crazy grin-

2011-04-25T10:09:00.000-07:00

What do you do to help the poor and the unprivileged? You donate money to social groups, you bring them necessities... But would you go a step further to bring them material joys? A drink at Starbucks, a pair of slippers, a meal at kfc... A little monetary sponsor whenever needed.

But see, there lies a fine line between wanting to give, and being blatantly asked to do so. The entire situation changes the moment it is not an offer but a request, an immediate swing of mood from sympathy to anger. "who are you to ask for things? Who are you?"

Does that show something about me? Selfishness. Protection. To what extent is charity charity? How much do you give? Sure, we're not very close, but I can still give since I'm doing fine. But when you buy a pair of slippers knowing that you don't have enough, then asking (expectantly) for a top up, what does this show? First thought that strikes: It shows you're not dumb. But I can afford $4, it's really not much to me. So how much should i care? Should I let that pass? How many times should it pass? Where should generosity stop? Where should we draw the line?

Today I scolded an adult. I scolded her in public straight to her face, straight in the eyes. Lectured, really - like how I would lecture a child about the intolerable consequences of theft. I felt hot, searing anger spilling from my lungs and out of my lips, my piercing eyes desperately, indignantly trying to get my message across. I don't know if I should feel bad, but I'm guessing I probably shouldn't. But that would bring me back to my first question. What do you do, how much do you do?

------

There was a piece of news about a young boy that fell from the 5th floor.. Upon reading the article I felt an inexplicable surge of sadness and I can only pray that such incidents will never happen to me or to the families of anyone I know. Scrolling to the bottom of the page I saw that hundreds of people "fb shared" the news and I felt almost angry, disgusted, as though the death of the young boy is something to be gossiped about. Its not exactly the first time i've seen "fb sharing" of similar news, but I suppose seeing his photo made me particularly upset about this. He could be so much more, so much more. He hasn't gotten his chance to live.
I don't want my death to be discussed amongst strangers as a conversational topic. To be "shared" like you really care. At this moment "329 people like this". I don't get it. What is so likable about this? I know sometimes statuses about the passing away of a person are "liked" but those statuses consist of words of condolences. But this... How can you like this? What is there to like at all? I am upset, i am inexpicably upset for the family of this boy and I truly hope they don't see this. How would you feel? To be a piece of "news", to have your heart drowning with guilt yet knowing that your affair has been shared and whispered by the lips of people you've never seen in your life, and who truly dont care at all.
What is it about death and gore that keeps us so intrigued? I am upset. Even more so by the "Be the first of your friends." [black humour]

stage three

2011-04-24T04:46:00.000-07:00

Each time we reach the end of the weekend I force myself to give a nonchalant wave, turn around and walk ahead, each step sinking with longing, my heart like a thread unravelling by its ends as we walk in opposite directions.

non-chronological

2011-04-17T09:58:00.000-07:00

Trudge through the mist of misery, trudge through the shallow inner voices, trudge through the thorns and trudge on

I am disgusting, spinning lies, going to extreme extents to avoid company. It sickens me to know that I'd rather wait for another 20mins for the next bus that comes just to be alone. What happened to the days when even walking out of the school gate alone was too much for my pride to take? I am tired of talking to people, I am tired of trying to talk to people. Talking can be awfully tiring. I am tired of being tired of talking. The heaviness of silence that weighs between me and yous isn't something my languid self can bear.

---

The absence of the familiar is bearable, only mildly stinging, but forgettable when desired. It is when the reminder of the absent crashes to the floor - like a heavy weight thrashing the blocks of defences, flung to various corners of the walls - that everything starts to sink and shake the core.

What the hell is wrong with me? I have almost everything I need but times like this I wallow in this shadow of inexplicable unhappiness.

---

I went to brush my teeth and squeeze my zits and now i feel tremendously better. You see??? It's like my mood changes so TREMENDOUSLY it's freaky. Like happy exciting thoughts immediately perk me up. It takes place so quickly, with the blink of an eye (really!), that i dive above the blue and tilt my head towards the sun. Is it like this for everyone, this rapid change of mood? Is it because I smiled to myself in the mirror? Do you smile when you look into the mirror? I always do, rather instinctively..

Words

2011-04-10T09:47:00.000-07:00

2011-04-08T01:29:00.001-07:00

I love looking at my archives page knowing that half my life is on print. More than half really, I have written diaries from my 8year old days. I daresay that by the time I'm 55 I should have one of the world's oldest and most faithfully updated blog and my name will probably be in the world records or something. And trust me, you'll get to see my babies on this space. You will! And you'll watch me grow old. A single click on a link and you'll see my geeky sec1 self, and with another you‘ll see how i've bloomed (haha) over the years, meet my boyfriend, my family, my husband, my kids, my grandkids, and before you know it there you’ll have it- my wrinkly self (accompanied by a silly grin with a single gaping tooth). Sounds a little creepy don't you think? To have one's (almost) entire life story on page. To see how one transforms over the years, aging... In clicks. There is something ominous about that. Like those YouTube videos of a-photo-everyday-for-5-years things portraying the aging process.. My heart grows a little cold, inexplicably cold when I watch videos like these. There is something sad about aging, about losing youth, and looking at someone's youthful eyes growing increasingly sunken.. It reminds me of death I suppose. (think: Dorian grey)
"You start dying the moment you're born"

Three 2002 entries succinctly articulating my hatred for my sista (W.Y)

evil sister subject me to slavery (what bubble float anyway??) (and what untidiness?? you should see your present self now)

she didnt even allow me to write in my diary

WORST DAY OF MY LIFE BECAUSE OF, ONCE AGAIN, HER

Point effectively made.

2011-04-05T07:31:00.000-07:00

Good morning world!! I am chirpy and excited again, makes me kind of giggly so slap me if i get too annoying. Last week's camp was really great I miss those pesky kids why why why do kids say the funniest things without realizing hahaha

"who invented the microscope"?
"an English?"
"a little boy?"

"He can score from half the field.."
"So can I."
"No you can't!"
"Yes I can!"
"No you cant!"
"Yes i can, from my Itouch!"

I'm dying to post their photos but I don't think I'm allowed to so... i cropped and i hope they remain unidentifiable

+ food gambling + bouncy castle

My first camp with international kids! I felt obligated to slang while conversing with these kids... quite funny though, the code-switching. The moment the last kid left the room my 'lahs' and 'lehs' crept back into my words.

And the different tones:

E.g _____, do it this way alright?

vs (sg camp)

_______, do this way la ok?

kayla's learning to stand

i luv her dress hahahhaa

little pwincess hehehe (baby voice subconsciously creeps in)

Well, if you want to sing out, sing out

2011-04-03T06:46:00.000-07:00

Good Morning everyone!
Harold & Maude is no doubt my newest favourite. There is something intriguing about that movie... it's my third view this week. It was Harold's suicidal self, his startling blue eyes and his baby-like demeanor that drew my attention at first. I thought it'd be just another carpe diem film but after my second viewing i think there's much more to this, many surprise elements and little details that can only be caught after several viewings I believe.

my favourite screencaps

Oh! That's wonderful, Harold. Go - and love some more.

:'(

I love Harold's staged suicides, aptly accompanied by his cold, unblinking blue stare

Maude: I'll never understand this mania for black. Nobody sends black flowers, do they? Black flowers are dead flowers. Who sends dead flowers to a funeral? It's absurd.

"I like to watch things grow. They grow and bloom, and fade, and die, and change into something
else. Ah, life!"

Maude: I should like to change into a sunflower most of all. They're so tall and simple. What flower would you like to be?
Harold: I don't know. One of these, maybe.
Maude: Why do you say that?
Harold: Because they're all alike.
Maude: Oooh, but they're *not*. Look. See, some are smaller, some are fatter, some grow to the left, some to the right, some even have lost some petals. All *kinds* of observable differences. You see, Harold, I feel that much of the world's sorrow comes from people who are *this*,
[she points to a daisy]
Maude: yet allow themselves be treated as *that*.
[she gestures to a field of daisies]

"You go to funerals often, don't you?"
"Uh, yeah"
"So do I. They're such fun, aren't they? It's all change, all revolving -- burials and birth, one linked to the other, the great circle of life."

[to a motorcycle officer] "Don't get officious. You're not yourself when you're officious - That is the curse of a government job."

"Vice, Virtue. It's best not to be too moral. You cheat yourself out of too much *life.* Aim above morality. If you apply that to life, then you're bound to live life fully."

"But, Harold, we begin to die as soon as we are born. What is so strange about death? It's no surprise. It's part of life. It's change."

While I was initially uncomfortable about their relationship, Harold&Maude made me question conformity and societal constructions. Like Maude tells Harold, "You just can't let the world judge you too much." I cannot help but question my initial judgement: why was I appalled at their relationship when I clearly know they're right for each other? Should the difference in age be a problem? Maude is extremely likable in her actions and her philosophy of life. She inspires me. She attends funerals to celebrate the circle of life, she breaks rules, she lives. Most importantly, she changed Harold's life - she taught him how to sing, to dance, to live. Who is to judge their love when Harold would have been nothing - possibly dead- if not for her entrance into his life? Are they not as compatible as Holly&Michael (The Office)?

Well, if you want to sing out, sing out

And if you want to be free, be free

'Cause there's a million things to be

You know that there are

The Trail's End

2011-03-30T09:11:00.000-07:00

READ: The Story of Bonnie and Clyde

You've read the story of Jesse James
of how he lived and died.
If you're still in need;
of something to read,
here's the story of Bonnie and Clyde.

Now Bonnie and Clyde are the Barrow gang
I'm sure you all have read.
how they rob and steal;
and those who squeal,
are usually found dying or dead.

There's lots of untruths to these write-ups;
they're not as ruthless as that.
their nature is raw;
they hate all the law,
the stool pidgeons, spotters and rats.

They call them cold-blooded killers
they say they are heartless and mean.
But I say this with pride
that I once knew Clyde,
when he was honest and upright and clean.

But the law fooled around;
kept taking him down,
and locking him up in a cell.
Till he said to me;
"I'll never be free,
so I'll meet a few of them in hell"

The road was so dimly lighted
there were no highway signs to guide.
But they made up their minds;
if all roads were blind,
they wouldn't give up till they died.

The road gets dimmer and dimmer
sometimes you can hardly see.
But it's fight man to man
and do all you can,
for they know they can never be free.

From heart-break some people have suffered
from weariness some people have died.
But take it all in all;
our troubles are small,
till we get like Bonnie and Clyde.

If a policeman is killed in Dallas
and they have no clue or guide.
If they can't find a fiend,
they just wipe their slate clean
and hang it on Bonnie and Clyde.

There's two crimes committed in America
not accredited to the Barrow mob.
They had no hand;
in the kidnap demand,
nor the Kansas City Depot job.

A newsboy once said to his buddy;
"I wish old Clyde would get jumped.
In these awfull hard times;
we'd make a few dimes,
if five or six cops would get bumped"

The police haven't got the report yet
but Clyde called me up today.
He said,"Don't start any fights;
we aren't working nights,
we're joining the NRA."

From Irving to West Dallas viaduct
is known as the Great Divide.
Where the women are kin;
and the men are men,
and they won't "stool" on Bonnie and Clyde.

If they try to act like citizens
and rent them a nice little flat.
About the third night;
they're invited to fight,
by a sub-gun's rat-tat-tat.

They don't think they're too smart or desperate
they know that the law always wins.
They've been shot at before;
but they do not ignore,
that death is the wages of sin.

Some day they'll go down together
they'll bury them side by side.
To few it'll be grief,
to the law a relief
but it's death for Bonnie and Clyde.

-Bonnie Parker

This was written by Bonnie Parker in a notebook during her prison years. Her poem reminded me of how human their emotions were, which drove them to commit the heinous crimes that they did. For a brief moment i felt pity and understanding.. but then i remembered all the innocent lives they took and i decided not to feel. (it wouldnt be fair to their families; to them, Bonnie&Clyde will always be murderers.)

the views of a crossed 19 year old

2011-03-27T04:47:00.001-07:00

Before I forget: adult jokes are starting to sink in. In recent years over the gatherings I've attended (eg CNY), I have come to notice that adults don't laugh at truly funny things. They laugh at the oddest, unfunniest things that mainly consist of some imaginary scenario ("scarly ah..."). I sit there smiling (somewhat politely) to myself while roars of laughter surround me, and when surrounded by people chuckling merrily at a joke I can only at best smile at, I find myself inwardly wishing for a better sense of humor, while my insides cringe and twist themselves into a tight knot. To cope with the nastiness I feel inside, I widen my mouth for abit to showcase my noiseless laughter. Or look hastily at my phone with a grin plastered on my face. Or both.

Times like this I wish I laugh at everything. And amidst the sea of laughter my mind contemplates the recurring question of my social skills. Because i am sore and unable to adapt as freely as others, i remind myself that I'm stuck in the transition between teen and adulthood. I choose to think that adults laugh at unfunny jokes, that these endless chuckles are but brief attempts to fill up the gaps of silences that fall in between, or a portrayal of some form of joy with the semblance of a relationship. It makes my tiny self-justifying self a little bit better.

On a bad night: Hurricane of events are inching closer, threatening to engulf my self - already im starting to sway with the rhythm and slowly I will spin, like a helpless doll flailing in the wind

I love this

2011-03-25T00:36:00.000-07:00

2011-03-22T08:40:00.001-07:00

i finally submitted my only uni application

introspection

2011-03-16T07:34:00.000-07:00

On the red-eye from Seattle, a two year-old
in the seat behind me screeches
his little guts out. Instead of dreaming
of stuffing a wad of duct tape
into his mouth, I envy him, how he lets
his pain hang out. I wish I too could drill
a pipeline into the fields of ache, tap
a howl.

- Jeffrey McDaniel

Off day, i woke up at 2 and caught up with my tv shows. Off day is good.

observations of change: Months ago i didnt dare to carry my wallet around, for reasons i now see as lame (even.. childish) and eyerolling-worthy. Afew weeks ago I started liking it. I'm genuinely curious as to when that change in perception took place, and how it happened, and what it shows. Is this growing materialism? How does this take place?

words retracted

The animation was so good, i loved the little details they chose to put effort in e.g the texture of their skin, the fur.. the script was witty and funny, the characters were all likeable and they carry such humanistic qualities that it's difficult not to understand their plight and the way they behave. I loved the singing owls! And their use of music! I was at the second row even though it was the 11.30pm movie we caught hahaha

Gnomeo and Juliet was a little disappointing though.. the ending was predictable from the start but i guess it was something i should have known. i thought it was kinda lame... but good for kids sigh but im a kid too right i feel like im growing up and i hate it

Because even if you take your vitamins and pay your taxes and never cut the line, the universe still gives you people to love and then lets them slip through your fingers like water. And then what’ve you got? Vitamins and nothing.

- Grey's Anatomy s7

2011-03-10T09:28:00.000-08:00

♥

he refused to let me hold baby dino cos he said "it'll cry" :(

"do a triumphant pose!! QUICK!! DOOOOOOO IT!!!!!!"

(after battlestar galactica)

reese obviously loves me more he looks like he wants to eat me

good wife in the making thx thx

So Jacob and I have been furiously dating because he's enlisting soon (less than 6hours omg reality is slowly sinking in) and that, I think, would be the turning point of our relationship (i keep saying that "tomorrow is the beginning of the End") so I'm trying to have lots of happy days now (successfully!)

We got "married" today (7/3), pronounced so by Donkey, where in my flustered state I too readily agreed "I do", while Jacob deliberately took a moment of consideration "uhm... All right..". To make the rest of the people laugh I think. That ass. We had to do an obligatory kiss. I have never been "married" before, not in kindergarten or any time else so it's quite funny and very memorable (and if I may admit, very fairytale-ish and sweet and dreamy :))

photo i managed to snap despite my slightly shaken self, before Donkey, my witness, vanished into virtual nothingness

witness in solid form

YAY!!! Jewel cabins!!!! (thanks ms & her sis)

me so smart to use the flashlight idea hahahahaha

tomorrow's the beginning of the End... (says in a booming sinister voice) but for now i have never been happier ♥

2011-03-09T16:15:00.001-08:00

I SURVIVED BATTLESTAR GALACTICA!!!!!!!!!!!!!

happy one year old baby!!!! :):):):):):)

2011-03-08T08:47:00.000-08:00

every time she smiles at me the world lights up for the few seconds that she does

(cant wait for mine)

2011-03-08T07:58:00.000-08:00

Am considering the MOE Teaching Scholarship

"if teaching is your passion, just go for it"
I know it's meant to be assuring but when I hear this all I hear is "passion" and the only thought that comes to my mind is: what if it isn't?

How the hell do I know anyway, i am uselessly inexperienced. Liking kids certainly does not equate to having a passion for teaching. I'm not good at teaching. From my mentoring sessions last year I remember pausing several times each session, hemming and hawing and trying to string the right words in the right tone to let them understand, without making them feel stupid. I'm not good at explaining, I go "uhmm.. I think it's..." with a tinge of uncertainty and if there's someone nearby I'd ask "is it?" "right?"

As a teacher I'd be sure of my lesson plans and my subjects.. but still. I'm worried and afraid. Am I supposed to seriously consider my career right now? Because really, I have no clue. I'm afraid that the main reason I lean towards teaching is because it's one of the staple careers we've known for all our lives. Doctors, teachers, lawyers, policemen, firefighters- astronauts even; these are ideas that were long instilled in our tiny heads. So out of these "childhood careers", the only one I'm most acquainted with would of course be Teachers, so maybe I'm (semi)subconsciously doing the 'elimination method'. But what if it's boring; when we think of teaching some wrinkle their noses , or the more polite ones nod understandably. The idea of "schooling" all my life isn't exactly appealing either. I feel that there are so, so many careers which I'm severely underexposed to, and the problem is that I'm not aware of them, and remain un-enticed to take some initiative to search. I fear the unfamiliar, I drift to what I know and what I'm decently confident of my ability to handle.

the impending enlistment

2011-03-08T00:14:00.000-08:00

Hello! I need to blog about my vigorous dating spree before the excitement dissipates

1. Night Safari

$74 to see deer (singular and plural, as i've just discovered)
and fish spa

best shot of the night cos it was too dark everywhere else

I've always had a soft spot for baby cubs... cannot quite explain it but they make me coo and unwittingly reach out to scratch their back with my forefinger. And at times give an eskimo kiss or something (although they wouldnt like it). Maybe because they seem like stubborn creatures who try to be brave but are at times a little too arrogant, too arrogant to even ask for help. They are unexpressive, scowling creatures but when treated with love they beam, inwardly - they try not to show. Being too happy makes you weak. They are the wary, grumpy creatures that (very) reluctantly agree when asked to help but in times of true crisis are the first and most willing to strike ahead.
(my impression)

My adorable and loyal babycub who was tamed when I walked a whole round around his/her friends and went back for him/her (gender remains undecided)

2011-03-07T07:42:00.000-08:00

eun said: remember this moment

when i took this photo i thought: this is one of the best beds in the world, the kind that makes you curl into a ball and snuggle under your blankie all day

night before where i fell asleep at 4+!!!!!! I FELL ASLEEP WOOHOO

2011-03-03T06:16:00.000-08:00

Okay... It's like this: it's like a pot of water thats clear and calm and cool at the beginning, but then someone needs to turn on the fire. So when the fire's on the temperature starts to rise. As it gets warmer the water molecules start shoving each other here and there, harder and harder, and harder and harder and harder like they hate the guts out of each other, until one starts to vanish into thin air with an exclaiming 'pop'! And then more starts to get shoved into air and before you know it the pot of cool calm water becomes a frothing bubbling pool of weak, 'pop'-yelling beaten molecules.

2011-03-03T01:23:00.000-08:00

McAllister: "Show me the heart unfettered by foolish dreams and I'll show you a happy man."
John Keating: "But only in their dreams can men be truly free. 'Twas always thus, and always thus will be."

-Dead Poets Society

lollollollollollollollollollollollollolloll I LOVE COMMUNITY

2011-03-01T20:17:00.000-08:00

2011-03-01T17:32:00.000-08:00

I cant imagine The Office without Steve Carell :'(((((((

2011-02-28T07:59:00.000-08:00

When I was crossing the street this afternoon I heard Hokkien flowing smoothly from a young voice, like the sweet liquid of a melting popsicle in the mouth of a child. I looked over and saw a primary school boy clutching the hand of a grandmother. For that moment I felt warm hope seeping into my heart, grandly sweeping its way through pessimistic possibilities of eventual Hokkien extinction.

a i

2011-02-27T09:58:00.000-08:00

2011-02-20T05:19:00.001-08:00

2011-02-18T22:06:00.000-08:00

2011-02-17T19:17:00.000-08:00

I am constantly worrying about the future; worrying about what's going to happen and am almost convinced such worries are prophetic. It would be nice sometimes to have someone take me firmly by the shoulders and shake me hard, look me in the eye and just tell me everything's going to be okay, everything's going to be okay.

2011-02-17T01:13:00.000-08:00

When I was in primary school i'd receive stupid spam emails threatening to get me killed by a ghost etc etc eg.

Hii, I am Teddy. Once you read this you
cannot get out. Finish reading this
until it is done! As I said, I am
Teddy. I am 7 years old. I have no eyes...
and blood all over my face. I am dead....
If you don't send this to at least 12
people I will come to your house at
midnight and I'll hide under your bed.
When you're asleep, I'll kill you.
Don't believe me?

Case 1:
Patty Buckles
Got this e-mail. She doesn't believe
in chain letters. Well, Foolish Patty.
She was sleeping when her TV started
flickering on and off. Now she's not
with us anymore. Ha ha patty, Ha ha!
You don't want to be like Patty, do
you?

Case 2:
George M. Simon
Hates chain mail, but he didn't want
to die that night. He sent it to 4
people. Not good enough George. Now,
George is in a coma, we don't know if
he'll ever wake up. Ha ha George, Ha
ha! Now, do you want to be like George?

Case 3:
Valarie Tyler
She got this letter. Another chain
letter she thought. Only had 7 people
to
send to. Well, That night when she was
having a shower she saw bloody Mary
in the mirror. It was the BIGGEST
fright of her life. Valarie is scarred
for
life.

Case 4:
Derek Minse
This is the final case I'll tell you
about. Well, Derek was a smart person.
He sent it to 12 people. Later that
day, he found a $100.00 bill on the
ground. He was premoted to head
officer at his job and his girlfriend
said
yes to his purposal. Now, Katie and
him are living happily ever after.The
have 2 beautiful children.

Send this to at least 12 people or
you'll face the consequences.

0 people- You will die tonight

1-6 people- you will be injured

7-11 people- you will get the biggest
fright of your life

12 and over- you are safe and will
have good fortune

yeah im one of the stupid annoying people who forwarded the emails to all my friends because I truly feared for my life and truly believed that a ghost would jump out of my screen or that some bloody girl would stab me at night when im asleep I USED TO BE SO SCARED
I HATE THE PEOPLE WHO STARTED THIS IT IS MEAN AND ITS EQUIVALENT TO PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE TO A POOR YOUNG CHILD

I stopped checking my emails cos such emails always started with "if u see this u have no escape............" anyway im mature and take lifts now so yay me

www

2011-02-16T05:36:00.000-08:00

I decided to take the long tunnel slide which sorely reminded me of my almost-drowning incident in sunway lagoon at the tender age of 8. I forced a brave and reassuring smile to Jacob to hurry him to queue for the next slide, no thanks to the guard who mockingly asked why I wasn't able to take the ride first and alone. Pride took over and in response to him I smiled with what I hoped was easy confidence and lay down with arms crossed, and down I fell.

As I took my solo trip down the tunnel it was completely dark; I opened my eyes and faced black and only black. A thought flashed by: was i blind? I tried to make some attempts at joyous hoots but the echoes that bounced against the caving walls merely accelerated my heartbeat. I reached a point where there was a rush of heat accompanied by a surge in speed and I quietly contemplated the possibility of entering another dimension. But before I could think further I caught a glimpse of light, "a symbol of hope" I thought, and then more light and then I hit the waters, dived up and saw the sky, looked left and saw the grinning face of my love. I reached for the gentle shadow of his figure, and we strode towards land, alive and well.

I was born in the era of walkmans, of queuing for payphones, of chalkboards, of sticker books.

2011-02-12T06:52:00.000-08:00

The 90's

(I feel terribly old: CLICK)

uN = time for learning

2011-02-10T20:36:00.000-08:00

95 POINTS WOOHOOO

quite impressive isnt it hehehe but i stopped after this cos i needed to go on to learn something else

i made my current desktop wallpaper last night, the T is ugly cos it was 3am by then and i desperately wanted to go to bed but other than that im happy i learnt something!

started on Community

I like Abed

2011-02-10T19:28:00.001-08:00

We feel an affinity with a certain thinker because we agree with him; or because he shows us what we were already thinking; or because he shows us in a more articulate form what we were already thinking; or because he shows us what we were on the point of thinking; or what we would sooner or later have thought; or what we would have thought much later if we hadn’t read it now; or what we would have liked to think but never would have thought if we hadn’t read it now.

-from The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis

the january of employment

2011-02-07T22:16:00.000-08:00

Today was my last day here. I counted down to the very last minute, muttering a silent cheer under my breath as the clock struck eight. Almost racing to the door I was on my way out (like a bird unleashed) when I said goodbye to the people whom I've spent my past few days with, lunching together, groaning at how slow time crawls.

I didn't say goodbye, I said "see you" and as soon as those words left my lips I thought: see you when?

2011-02-07T22:06:00.000-08:00

"Can I ask you a question? If you loved me..."
"Yes?"
"And we could never, ever, ever touch, wouldn't you eventually get over it and move on letting someone else have the slightest hope that you might move on to them?"
"If I loved you?"
"Yeah."
"Then I would love you in any way I could. And if we could not touch, then I would draw strength from your beauty. And if I went blind, then I would fill my soul with the sound of your voice and the contents of your thoughts until the last spark of my love for you lit the shabby darkness of my dying mind."
"Eh, forget it."

-Alfredo Aldarisio & Olive Snook

--

"I don't wear my feelings like a shiny, sparkly brooch, but if I did my sadness and anxiety would be mesmerizing right now"

2011-02-07T04:44:00.000-08:00

look at the colours!!!!!!

I really like Pushing Daisies.
It has amazing graphics, i love the vibrant colours and the whimsical nature of its setting. Alot of effort has been put into the show I think, from its soundtrack + sound effects to the writing, very well-scripted dialogues, very concise words chosen for their (pun) lines. Everything's likeable! Narrator's narrating voice, laugh-out-loud funnys and very very wallpaper-worthy setting. Cute people. Chuck's wardrobe. The eccentric characters. How nothing is ever truly sad, even if someone gets run over by a car. Very Tim Burton / 500 days of summer, I think.

2011-02-07T03:13:00.001-08:00

The other day i was asked, "do you love [him]?"
and my immediate response was to cringe, because to "love" someone... well think about all the things i've read about love! love, glorious love, what's love? so i smiled awkwardly for awhile, scrambling for a reply and what came out of my mouth was that love "is a very complex word" and there was a pause, followed by a nodded agreement that i "think too much", after which the question remained unanswered.

its a very... awkward question i think. or at least i make things awkward.

i wonder how others would respond to that?

HAPPY BUNNY YEAR

2011-02-06T21:39:00.000-08:00

post-grey's

2011-02-06T21:22:00.000-08:00

I see news on Selena's new look and I think "sloan's plastics"

I see headlines that go "Major breakthrough in Alzheimer's disease research" and i think of McDreamy in the OR

I watched the bloopers and i think i ♥ patrick dempsey

i am unemployed with lots of time to spare

2011-01-27T02:12:00.000-08:00

The past few days reminded me of my happy times in VJ, the long long talks we had during breaks and after school. They are one of the greatest people to talk to, I think. We have neverending streams of conversation injected with occasional laughter. We tread past morbid topics (too often raised by me).

I guess I do worry too much. There are a thousand and more bad things that could happen and there really isnt much of a point worrying. I'm always picturing myself in morbid situations and my own response: rape, mass shooting, robbery. Is it my way of 'preparing' myself for situations? I think I started doing that after we discussed our ways of handling a flasher. What we would have done. I still replay the scene of getting flashed and I rewrite my own response to them. Is that an aftermath? I dont think so actually, cos it wasnt traumatising it was just gross. I think its just me, I have nothing to think about so I think about the weirdest things.
I had a fever last week and I pictured myself in the hospital wailing "But it was only a fever! It was only a fever..." looking at the doctors' grim faces. Too much Grey's Anatomy. It makes me worry about my health.

I keep chewing on my hair (I know I know it is bad and gross) and when a bit of it gets into my mouth I panic and try to spit it out and sometimes I can't find it and I think I have swallowed a few and it makes me awfully worried because I really really don't want the doctors to rip open my tummy and find a perfectly formed bezoar lying in the middle, like a proud secret waiting for years.

post-it weddings

2011-01-27T02:09:00.001-08:00

i feel a little empty because i've finished the last episode on my sis's Magic Folder and now i have to be an ordinary being waiting (excruciatingly) for the next episode to be aired

2011-01-26T21:17:00.000-08:00

2011-01-26T07:47:00.000-08:00

I think that shyness is one of the most painful thing in the world. It is painful because it eliminates possibilities and alternative happy endings. It destroys potential friendships, buries your charm, your humour, your true self. It robs you of the chance to bond. Instead it makes you cringe, leaves you alone in an unfamiliar crowd and worst of all, plants the seed of desire to be someone else.

Is this celebratory

2011-01-23T20:03:00.000-08:00

I have started taking lifts. I dont know when it happened and how, but i havent taken the stairs for almost a month now. I thought about it for a while and I've decided the best way to explain is this: Laziness is a fat cat and one day while he was stretching (getting ready to sleep) his right arm hit Fear, who whimpered and hurriedly slid into a corner to hide. Laziness has overshadowed Fear. Laziness has now made taking stairs a chore.