and it feels like.

2007-05-13T13:03:00.000+08:00

all the initial shock has mellowed into a fervent excitement. its barely a week after the phonecall and the letter and the celebratory dinner, but somehow im in the mood for more.

am pleasantly surprised and humbled by the magnitude of this opportunity. i think my parents are too.

couldn't ask for more at this point in time. =] thanks to the big guy up there.

will update once everything's confirmed.

2007-04-30T23:04:00.000+08:00

reflecting upon my last entry, i must say that i just got too caught up in the rat race. sometimes i look at myself and i feel v disgusted for letting such emotions get the better of me. i think alot of it still has to deal with insecurity with respect to where i will be and how i now no longer have any control over what i will end up studying eventually.

right. but then again, why worry about something you cannot change? perhaps i should just wait patiently for all the offers/rejections to come pouring in before making a choice.

am very sick and tired of being such a quantitative person.

i think sometimes we hold on to things so tightly that we just don't realise how much the thorns are cutting into our flesh.

2007-04-21T22:48:00.000+08:00

what is the biggest lesson you've learnt so far since coming out to work?

angela: 'a good doctor always loves his patients.'

monica: 'money and connections can get you further than hard work.'

hui zhong: 'i've learnt alot of things!'

liyi: 'there are mushrooms everywhere!' [editor's note: hypothetical response]

well then, here's mine: 'there is only so much one can do to better his own life.' i leave you to make meaning of that. monica seemed surprised when i told it because she thought it was meant to be interpreted in a positive light.

it isn't.

i hate to cynical and so bleak about everything but i can't help but feel so helpless about everything now. true enough, i personally do think i've done everything i could, but somehow somehow there seem to be so many things out of my control, out of my circle of influence. ironically they now seem to be the ones that will ultimately decide my path.

oh well. excuse me while someone, somewhere out there determines my fate for me.

2007-03-15T11:28:00.000+08:00

was on the bus yesterday when i had this random revelation.

i call it the singapore sickness. have been reading the papers relatively diligently, and have identified points of similarity.

read some commentary about how some people think certain actors are overused and overexposed at the expense of other less well known actors, and as a result, they face declining screen time and low paychecks if they continue to stay in s'pore, and therefore choose to head overseas to develop.

same thing in the fashion industry. ever realise how local designers only become well known in their own country AFTER they've gone to london/milan/paris to develop?

heard this from one of my friends, and i think its a very apt observation: even in schools, teachers only focus their efforts on the best students, simply because they're the ones who'll be able to go the furthest with the least amount of effort on the teacher's part.

i guess this is a carryover from singapore in the past. it was the best survival tactic of the '60s: concentrate your resources on your strengths and areas of expertise, and damn all the other weakling industries to hell. same thing for workers, scholars. i do agree that this was probably the best way out for singapore back then, but its probably so deeply entrenched in our society that its hard to shake it off, despite the government's best efforts to.

where does the problem lie then? success in today's world is not measured only by consistency, it's also measured by the ability to innovate, to spot trends and to act on them, to capitalise on the next big thing even before it becomes the next big thing.

and in order to do that, we have to be alot more astute when it comes to assessing raw talent. potential to succeed should not be based on success that has already been achieved, it should be based on what that person or that concept or that product is capable of achieving with the right image, publicity and support. in this age of new media, the right publicity can make or break a person.

what should we be doing now? most of the times, a product is successful is because people are under the impression it is good, and for many singaporeans, often this confirmation of whether something is good or not comes not from ourselves, but from outside of singapore. its imperative that we start asserting our strengths, and not wait for someone else to before we jump on the bandwagon and start singing its praises as well. the creative industry should definitely take the lead in promoting singaporean artistes, products, places, ideas etc and glorify them, and not wait for someone else from outside singapore to realise this potential before eagerly pouncing in. we should be creating opportunities, and not simply making the best out of the opportunities given to us. that would then be, i feel, the hallmark of a great society.

2007-03-08T13:50:00.000+08:00

haven't been blogging and its all due to sheer laziness on my part. i've always seen blogging as a way of venting my frustrations, and seeing as i am no longer angsty and frustrated with life, i no longer have that much of a motivation to blog.

feeling alot more at peace with the world and the people around me, perhaps because i don't really interact with as many now. im not so much angry and angsty as lost now, i would think. here i am, semi-adultish, not really wanting to be treated like a baby anymore yet not wanting exactly to grow up and start paying CPF. i don't know how to articulate that sort of frustration. its kinda like that stage in life when you're starting to emerge from your cocoon and somehow you're caught at that very embarrassing moment where you're trying to wriggle your bum out of it when everyone starts crowding around and throwing millions of questions at you when all you want to do is just hurry up and get your ass out of it, covered, then run far far away.

ok. i admit. not the best analogy. but i hope you get the point.

and that, my dear friends, is where university comes in. an institution which allows you to temporarily avoid the pain and trauma of 'growing-up' immediately after you get your A level result slip.

of course the next question on everyone's lips is: where? what course?

as i've told so many people: when you're 19, you don't really have a clear idea of what you want in life. i've barely even had enough experiences to tell you what i don't like, let alone make a decision on what to study and to be damn sure that i will be able to maintain the same passion for it 30 years down the road.

if i had to decide on the one suckiest thing now, it'd have to be waiting. i think we spend most of our lives waiting. waiting for decisions which don't involve you, but decide your future life and career path to be made. waiting for phonecalls. waiting for letters. waiting for announcements, waiting for the bus. waiting for your food.

i was watching this episode of blogtv on CNA, and they were talking about celebritiy blogs [which, i would like to contend, because this being singapore, has no such thing as real celebrities, only semi-well-known beanpoles who limp across your screens at 7pm on ch8]

anyway, one guest made a very interesting point about how blogging always turns out to be a reflection of what the blogger wants to be, and not what the blogger is. i agree to a certain point that blogging is somehow always manipulated to portray the blogger himself in the sort of light which he wants the readers to see him. its a game, a performance, a show, and sometimes very little of it is the real him. because, if you do think about it, who doesn't blog for other people to read?

which i would say is the fatal flaw of this blog.

anw, if you're free, try reading this book: Prep by Curtis Sittenfield. classic modern remake of catcher in the rye.

2007-01-16T17:55:00.000+08:00

i look back at all my past entries and somehow it paints a picture of a tormented and self centered individual. as much as i hate to admit it, i seriously was pretty screwed up during the past year or so.

i no longer feel the burning impetus to blog. which brings me back to this: most people stop blogging after they've managed to find security in their lives and are at peace with themselves. i guess somehow this blog was a way of preserving my sanity, a way of trying to mask my insecurities and fears.

i daresay im alot happier now, albeit grotesquely overweight and still unemployed with major zit breakout. i look back upon those days and it seems like the dark cloud that has been looming over me for the past year or so has lifted. and its strange now but i cant really seem to get myself to blog actively and painstakingly note down every little detail of my life.

proves another point though: real art is a reflection of the most extreme of human emotions. how else would you explain sylvia plath's poetry? [speaking of which, i absolutely adore sylvia plath. and ted hughes comes in second. somehow their poetry has a striking resemblence: run-off lines, extremely vivid imagery, ruled by the heart.] most of the lyrical writing or poetry i've posted on this blog are inspired by extremely violent outbursts of emotion, when it just took hold of my mind, heart and soul and when writing was the only way i could ever hope to relieve myself of them.

i don't know if this is a good thing. does this mean that all poets who aspire to be brilliant must be split borderline personailities who suffer from manic depression and can only look at themselves in the mirrors without wanting to gas themselves if they are force-fed prozac 24-7?

or is this simply the stage of growing up when you realise that theatrical outbursts of how lovely the rain looks pelting the angsana trees distract you from the 9 - 5 job, the ugly zit at the corner of your mouth, the rolls of fat around your waist, the cheating boyfriend and the looming unemployment?

i don't apologise for being cynical. cynicism is the currency of the world. take everything you hear with a pinch of salt. there is no such thing as the real deal. and i say this not because i am another angsty teenager with too much time on her hands, but because i want to be happy, and being happy entails not expecting too much.

at this stage i can only say i will take whatever comes my way; i feel strangely helpless as to my future. everyone's making decisions then regretting them. and here i am sitting refusing too make any decisions. i hate decisions. i hate choices. someone please make them for me, please, so at least when something goes wrong i have someone i can blame.

how funny. i start this entry saying how glad i am im happier now, but i end off still sounding like some bitch who just got a bad deal in the game of life.

2006-12-03T11:19:00.000+08:00

THE QUEEN IS BACK!

yes indeed after a long absence i have finally returned!

this is going to be an utterly random post. you have been warned.

THINGS I HAVE REALISED SINCE MY LAST POST

1. hairy chests are really q gross. was watching pierce brosnan in die another day. ENOUGH SAID.
2. im still a sucker for brit rom-coms. even though i swore off them in 2004.
3. i still believe mark darcy exists. [angela, i know i said i didn't but now i do!]
4. disposable underwear IS very stretchable, contrary to popular belief.
5. if something looks like shit, it probably tastes like that as well. don't try.
6. vanilla spice is an euphemism for sour plum.
7. budget airlines are painful.
8. always wear nice underwear because you never know when that friendly salesgirl will decide to expose your ratty pair.
9. my dad snores at 60dB.
10. you're only happy if you let yourself be.

2006-10-13T21:20:00.000+08:00

wake up kid, we've got the dreamers' disease - you only get what you give, new radicals

how apt. i daresay this is one of the more honest songs i've heard in a long time. its one of those songs which i'd fallen in with while listening to the radio years back, but never knew the title. little by little i'm rediscovering the songs i lost during those years. its simply thrilling to have found that one song again, almost always by chance, little snatches of colour i never knew existed.

cheap thrill, you say. to each his own, i say. its more fun to live like this.

once in a while you find one of those gems: the ones that make you say 'hell, YEAH!' and want to cry at the same time because they're so beautifully written. its rare to find true, raw honesty nowadays, really.

2006-08-13T12:25:00.000+08:00

2006-08-01T19:48:00.000+08:00

here's to the people i love very very muchly: snarky partner charlene and her kooky sadist sense of humour, fellow meinu nic with her peach-y face and insane infectious laughter, the pre-training-pervy-talk, the walks past the horse statue that we swore one day we'd ride on and take photos of, the sweltering heat and the wistful hope that somehow somehow our day to graduate would come. jy with her neverending stream of gossip and deadly uchimata. goofy xiaohui and the low-down, downright sneaky bouts of newaza randori, the trips home together, majun who's possibly the most colourful person i know with her cheek-to-cheek grins and her neverending fixation with all things cute. a.tan, strong, unyielding, dark with toothy grins and the occasional outburts of madness. jac with her adorably round face, her god-given talent and her never say die spirit. pingping with her perpetual seriousness, her utmost dedication and her incredible ability to say the most unexpectedly bimbotic things. cxy and her obsession with her spiky hair, her unbelievable, utter randomness and her harajuku pouty poses.

the stuff memories are made of. -beams-

2006-07-25T17:56:00.000+08:00

this wordless anger has consumed me utterly in the course of simply one day, and somehow, somehow it doesn't seem to lend itself to verbalisation. i can't even seem to put my finger on exactly what was the trigger; it could have been anything, really.

i remember feeling small and inadequate in front of you, next to you. i remember thinking i wasn't good enough, perhaps never had been, never will be. i remember feeling out of place, awkward. i remember the sheepish smiles thrown my way.

i don't remember much else but the irritation that'd swelled up afterwards.

its funny how the word fuck seems to have lost its charm. i yell fuck off, world! and it does nothing to dissipate my pent up emotions. i crave something stronger, darker, more vile that'd flush out the bad blood. i need a knife to cut off the dark red pools that have been coagulating in my veins, pulsing with every breath i take. i desperately need something that'd purge out all this shit and then maybe i'd be one of those shiny, happy people that all of you think i am.

2006-07-23T00:17:00.000+08:00

there's this vast emptyness right in the core of me and its dictating how i feel. everything's swirling round and round and round and lost images keep flashing through my mind, but everytime i try to grab hold of something, try to stop those images from fleeing they go into overdrive and start zooming around at double-speed. they're playing before me like the old black and white shots from the 1950s movie theatre, the pictures grainy and the sound slightly grating - there's a snapshot of everyone in happier times, smiling, jostling around, and the peals of laughter just keep ringing again and again on loop until it suddenly goes out of tune, and that's when the giggles turn all ghastly and drawn out and the tears start to flow, freely and in waves. i vaguely remember bawling my eyes out when it suddenly hit me that we'd lost it, that we'd really really lost it and there wasn't a thing i could to to rewind everything to the last moments before we lost it, not a thing i could have done to advert that sorry state we were all in, not even if i tried. i guess it was at that moment, on the mats, when everyone was happy and cheery and ready to celebrate, it hit me and took all the wind out of my sails, left me sobbing for all i was worth. i was lost, i really was. i wanted somebody to tell me everything was a huge farce, that the trophy they were holding didn't really belong to them, that they'd borrowed it for awhile and they'd return it before they left the stadium. and all the time i was telling myself that it wasn't happening, it wasn't happening; everything was so surreal, it was just another one of those bad dreams that i was having.

and right before they turned off the lights i prayed that someone would wake me up with a hug and a kiss and tell me that i was gonna have a slice of cake of breakfast.

and im still waiting.

2006-07-03T20:13:00.000+08:00

You're moonlight, iced on rocks, neat -
Tinkling sparkles filtered off rippling fluidity.

You're raindrops, distilled from leathery leaves which
Dance in the storm - unbridled, intoxicated.

You're decadence, suited in black, smooth,
The dark danger devouring pretty red hearts
Whole -

Is one letter more than what you've left in me.

I crave no more your empty correspondence
Than your presence.

Your shadow stands, coldly comforting,
A fine line between eternity and nothingness,
The emptiness promising.

2006-07-03T20:10:00.000+08:00

All the world is a stage
And everyone has their part - Take A Bow

They walk past you, postures perfect, self-assured, impeccably dressed. Smooth porcelain faces, flawless, gleaming, impenetrable, emotionless even. They throng past you, pushing their way through the crowd, rushing, always rushing. Their faces are blank but their eyes tell all - soul-less shells trooping aimlessly; there's never enough of anything. The smiling masks they wear hide all, conceal all blemishes, imperfections, and perhaps if they're lucky enough, fool you and get away with it. Yet, sometimes, just sometimes, the thin veneer they struggle to hold up gives way and crumbles under the crushing weight, and it's just so ridiculous, isn't it? That everyone seems to think that those facades they slap on before leaving the house will help them get through life - I doubt they'd last more than a couple of years. And perhaps one day when they wake up they'd look into the mirror and see the huge gaping holes and come to the sad realization that even their attempt at pretense hasn't really succeeded.

I know I will.

2006-04-16T15:21:00.000+08:00

Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you. - daddy, by sylvia plath

its amazing how fine a line there is between insanity and genius. she's brilliant precisely because she's so screwed up. every woman adores a fascist. how true. i daresay there's a secret desire in all women to be utterly subdued, conquered and controlled, despite the apparent feminist movement of recent centuries. who doesn't like a good ol' fight once in awhile?

to dominate, or to be dominated? what exactly is the role of a modern female in a relationship? what do you define as a relationship in the first place?

love seems too docile, too sedate. drugged and muted with the sharp edges trimmed and sandpapered smooth. persistant, pleasing, painful. love is the fluff you see on television; the prolonged agony of hanging on to memories, dreams. love is hope - its the air you breathe, the candy-pink clouds that float past the azure skies. love is pastel. love reeks of commitment. love is ardous journeys, insurmountable obstacles, happy endings. love is forever. love endures. love will never end. love is something you'd tell your mother, or your puppy. if that's all you've to offer i'd suggest you buy a pet.

i don't want to be fawned upon, adored, put on a pedestal. i need you to see me as a equal, not a possession, a toy, an accessory to be worn when you head out and chucked into the jewellry box when you're at home. i don't want to live for you, and i certainly don't expect you to live for me.

the idea of love seems so cloyingly sweet i shudder to even contemplate it. perhaps its because the only love we know now is this: promises, vows, sweet nothings.

what happened to danger? what happened to uncertainty? what happened to the spontaneity, the rush, the impulse of it all? what happened to the battles of wit, the clashes of wills, the fight for dominance? where's the excitement? where is the predatory nature of lust? the identification of one's target, the stalking, the closing in for the kill - where has it all gone? where has all the fun gone?

the meeting of ideals; the attraction of equals, the palpable connection between two individuals that threatens to sweep them up into a frenzy and leave everything they've ever known in the trail of destruction that they have blazed.

give me passion anytime, and i'll trade you your high-school romances.

2006-03-25T20:43:00.000+08:00

the colours don't seem so docile anymore. they shriek at you, mock you, jar your senses, intrude upon the peace of mind you thought you had and suddenly you're no longer in control. they seem to swirl round in this whirlpool, around and around and around with no pause button in sight. you're on a one-way train ride to nowhere and they keep rushing past you as you keep your nose pressed to the glass pane, stinging your face, the chill nipping away at your skin.

then you press the mute button and suddenly everything goes blank.

they run past you, slow-mo, shrouded, the edges blurred and undefined. and suddenly they all start merging into one entity before your eyes and you hit yourself on the head because you'd never realised how simple everything was to begin with.

its with detached fascination that i realise all that im labouring for now will come to nothing eventually, and yet somehow i can't seem to tear myself away from the ensuing rat race. its getting to me, like it always has, and its eating away at my sanity from the inside, and there's nothing i fear more than waking up one day to find that i've been hollowed out from the inside and all that's left of me is this smiley cut-out which says good morning, how can i help you on loop.

2006-03-24T23:42:00.000+08:00

lately i've been feeling stifled.

i yearn to have but one entire day to myself. i yearn to sit at some cafe in a foreign land and smile at beautiful strangers walking past. i want to observe passerbys over the rim of my glass of iced tea. i want to sit down and watch time pass by. and i want to experience for myself what it means to be just one more face in the crowd.

i sometimes tire of all these social niceties. if it means having to strike up conversation after conversation of meaningless words with people i don't give two hoots about just so that i fall under the 'friend' category in your mind, then i will have to pass. im content to exist as but a nameless face in your mind, really. just as i am content to allow everyone around me to be faces, nothing more. it makes things alot simpler, really. i can't be bothered to care about what's going through your mind, what you're thinking, who you are, whether you mean what you say etc. you're Nice because i don't know you and i don't intend to know you much more than hi-and-bye. i don't care if you don't care about me because i don't [and perhaps, never will] care about you.

this apathetic state i've sunken into alarms me sometimes. i don't ever recall a time whereby i didn't care. i guess i don't ever want to deal with all your Unspoken Thoughts; they seem to lurk within the confines of every conversation i've ever held with a fellow human being and they keep replaying time and time again long after the sound of your voice has faded, long after you've ceased to feature prominently in my life.

and im amazed at the incredible leakage of Thoughts from my head. it just pops into my head randomly and i turn it over and over again in my mind, the image stark and clear yet when i put my pen down to paper Thought seldom translates to ink. i absolutely destest this incompetence; this lack of ability to seize Thought by the wrists and pin it down right where i want it.

i attribute all this to a lack of Emotion.

i still feel, no doubt, yet everything is muted; people are screaming but i see only gaping mouths with no sound, this black vortex, the numbness comforting still, where the colours swirl around and around until you can no longer tell Black from White because everything's Grey now. nonchalance is the word of the day, there is no right and wrong, there are only people who exist and people who don't. now, what? Then is a word of the past and Tomorrow is something i fear to contemplate because i've yet to deal with Today. fuck Expectations. Hopes and Dreams are euphemisms conjured up for the lesser mortals who fail to realise that this shit-hole is all they're ever going to see. Goals are placed on pedestals which you will never reach; perhaps you'll only ever realise when it all ends. Endings are for people who've lost everything, who're lost to hopes, and sadly hope is the last fucking thing that will ever save them because nobody, i repeat, nobody, survives on a diet of hope.

Mediocrity now reigns supreme and yet somehow im not the least disturbed. i wonder why. for now im just content to languish but a bit more in this self-indulgence. allow me this one vice, won't you?

2006-02-25T22:02:00.000+08:00

you still exist.
wisps of your scent wafting over the stale air that lies
cornered in the room.

the unbearable silence punctuated by the flickering stabs of light through the darkness
which articulates that
we do not speak of
anymore.

and the wait.

for the day when
memories are no longer superimposed on the senses,
when all that's left of you is heaped on the floor,
crumpled, untouched
and in dire need of washing.

2006-02-08T17:18:00.000+08:00

you tend to be tougher on yourself when you realise your responsibility, your duty; the fact that you're in charge, the main deciding factor which determines whether they make it or break it. i don't deny its tiring, draining, parasitic even - the little thoughts which slowly but surely gnaw away at your conscience: am i doing the right thing? does anyone know? does anyone even give a damn? how long more?

fatigue has long ago ceased to be a valid reason for halting. with each labourious step you tell yourself you will soldier on, you will not give up even in the face of mounting adversity, you will face the onslaught with your chin up high and you will prevail. you will be the sole survivor, you will always be the first to start, the first to finish, and the last to fall. you will show tenacity, strength of character, and you will lead the way to everlasting glory, just like one of your many predecessors. giving up is not an option. it never will be.

pain is temporal. just like the rivers of sweat, blood and tears which run down your bruised and battered body in rivulets and finally pool on the hardness of the concrete beneath you.

you push them to the back of your mind as they slowly surface, choking them off as they struggle to make their presence felt, trying to ignore the ripples of incompetency that come floating to mind; yet in the dark of the night, when all is silent they come alive once more, worming their way into your conscience, eating, eating into you once more until the gaping hole in your heart becomes too much to bear and you wake up screaming.

2006-01-30T00:36:00.000+08:00

your existence just opens up a wound which i thought had healed already. just the thought of you existing in the same dimension, existing in some part of this cosmos where i exist hits me like a low blow to the guts when previously i thought i'd killed off all semblance, all memory of you that ever existed in me but the fact that im wrong hurts more than ever when i realise that perhaps, just perhaps i've never truly healed.

you won't ever let me, will you? all of you.

2006-01-30T00:24:00.000+08:00

dormant by day
they lie in wait
engulfed by excuses - too many, they say.

indefinitely supressed.
deliberately forgotten: not lest they begin
screaming technicolour in the darkness -
the voices pounding on the loose hinges of sanity
merging with the reality that you've tried so hard to run from, forcing you to

wake up.

bitch.

2006-01-10T12:11:00.000+08:00

i feed upon the silent rage that streams in torrents, directed towards me; boiled over and currently simmering over low heat, lost and forgotten causes in the midst of the busy start of the new school term.

if i had a knife i would reach out and cut the cords that bind me to this emotional fragility, this instability, all these questions to which i know i will never have answers to.

2006-01-03T21:11:00.000+08:00

how long must we keep on fighting this? how long must i fight you? how long more must i fight myself?

the rain keeps pouring on and it doesnt seem like it'll stop any time soon.

2006-01-03T20:11:00.000+08:00

the cloud stretches its limbs:
freeze frame shot -
restlessness in the stillness.

breaking free with [almost]
youthful zest, it crumbles in
wisps of white and grey,
disintegrates and finally comes to rest -
at one with the stagnancy it once feared.

2006-01-01T20:47:00.000+08:00

when you looked at me and asked - i don't think you'd ever realise how close you really ever came to pushing the blade through my heart and twisting it.

and i cry for all the unspoken thoughts and emotions that you may never know.

corinne convert

2005-12-30T12:21:00.000+08:00

the unforgiving, brutal honesty in her vocals struck a chord with me. i could just hear the raw emotion behind each and every line and it all just hit me suddenly and i swear, noone has been able to make me cry so much.

perhaps you've come close. but not any more.

maybe nobody has answers now. perhaps we never will get an answer. i don't know. if anything, i feel sorry i've lost someone whom i thought was a friend. i doubt i'll ever speak to you again. right now there're so many things left unspoken and though that's not the way i would like to see things go, this is the best way.

so. happy new year, my friend. take care, and all the best for the year ahead.

2005-12-25T23:01:00.000+08:00

im not exactly in the mood for writing. im too tired to string the words into proper sentences which can properly articulate the mish-mash of emotions im experiencing right now. the only word i think that can adequately express whatever im feeling now would be fuck. so there: fuck. fuck him. fuck her. fuck you. fuck everyone else. fuck this. fuck just fuck.

i think i need to talk it out. scream, whine, cry, sob, shout, yell, whisper: hell i just need to communicate in any other way than with alphabets and blank paper. but see there really is no necessity for me to even open my mouth if you don't seem to even sense that i need to talk. that we need to talk.

its just me, isn't it?

2005-12-25T00:37:00.000+08:00

im too tired for angst even. im so tired, i just am. fuck off all of you, and take your happiness elsewhere i can't exactly co-exist with happy shiny individuals who relish this holiday season.

fuck off and let me be. they/he/she doesn't care so why should you? why should anyone?

misery loves company, and even if you aren't could you at least pretend to be? alternatively just keep away from me for the time being.

2005-12-23T23:23:00.000+08:00

as of yesterday i was certain, dead sure that i'd reined my emotions in, tamed my heart.

but you just had to care, didn't you?

i could have walked right on. but somehow something has made me turn around. and now im not quite sure whether to continue walking or to turn back.

somehow i think it would have been easier for me to label you: JERK and walk away.

2005-12-11T15:30:00.000+08:00

i need to talk to someone who Listens, who hears what im saying behind those words i mutter. i need someone to give me an answer to This, and not try to hoodwink me into oblivion by molly-coddling or coaxing me into this false security. i don't exactly need your comforting now, i don't need anyone to tell me: i understand how you're feeling, because i don't think anyone can classify This as another one of the failures which i can easily pick myself up from and simply move on with my life the way it was before you stepped into with your bad ankle which you foolishly had to sprain on the day before the competition.

im a big girl now, don't you see? and big girls don't need to be patted on their heads and told to shut their eyes. i hope you realise i can take alot more shit than i could two years back. just don't sidestep issues with me and pretend they're over and done with. don't try to close the door on the burgeoning demons that threaten to burst from within and tell me that the pizza man just got annoyed because you didn't pay him exact change.

of course, it'd be best if i could speak to you directly. but i doubt that's an option now, is it?

i need someone, anyone to tell me: yes its not your fault. i want to be exonerated from This. i don't want another litany of don't-think-so-much-about-him-he's-probably-not-worth-your-time[s] or don't-think-about-it-anymore-or-it'll-hurt-you-even-more[s]. give me answers when i ask you what this means, damnnit.

answers - i can live with, not fucking uncertainty.

and where's Closure when you need it most?

oh. and merry christmas, everyone.

2005-12-10T23:42:00.000+08:00

all i needed was a yes or a no.

and now i've got my answer finally.

can't believe it took me so bloody long to realise the truth that was staring me blatantly in the face.

and i hate myself more than ever now.

2005-12-09T22:57:00.000+08:00

i think its tiring to have to think, think hard before you smile, laugh, make a comment, scream, sit, talk, walk, lie down, converse with anyone, before you even open your mouth and utter a single syllable because everyone judges you. from your hair right down to your toes.

what happened to good ol' spontaneity?

could you love the real me?

2005-12-09T10:44:00.000+08:00

maybe. just maybe i should have woken up a long time ago. as of today four fucking months have past and you've left me here still stranded with misguided illusions of what-could-have-been.

fuck off, i say. fuck off.

its isn't as simple as you. who knows? i want to scream its me, its me, don't you see by now? im just a pathetic lost soul hollowed out from inside, crumbling beneath the veneer of normality i've struggled to present to everyone, desperate to resume control over these emotions which threaten to show themselves, lest they cost me the privilege of being able to walk with my chin up high.

i care. too much, perhaps. and to think that you have callously discarded me [four months ago?] irks me, bruised my pride, reassured me that yes: perhaps im not ever gonna be good enough, perhaps you're another person i should have guarded against, perhaps you're not the one, perhaps you're nothing but another reminder, another slap in the face that i will trudge across this dreary earth alone, and that maybe, just maybe the satisfaction of climbing up the corporate ladder, earning big bucks and an independent life would be a good enough consolation that almost eclipses this isolation.

fuck off, world

2005-12-08T00:09:00.000+08:00

just another one of those nights when nothing, i stress absolutely nothing, is going your way and your whole world seems to be flaking off in scaly bits right in front of you and you. you just sit there and stare, willing it to heal by itself, willing the pieces to fly off the ground, off your palms, back where they belong and to stay there permanently and never fall off again. but somehow your tears don't seem to be helping much. and there you are frantically trying to mend it all sticking random bits and pieces back [almost always in the wrong places] but they keep falling off faster than you can manage. and when you're faced with a crumbly world on the floor, you stare up at the ceiling and mutter something along the lines of: fuck off, world.

for wini

2005-12-07T22:44:00.000+08:00

she drifts.
nebulous in the crashing waves
which threaten to engulf all.

clutching at mere wisps
she struggles to cling on to her sanity,
and with each desperate breath
she claws at the churning waters that
slip through her fingers.

she searches for the brink of deliverance
only to find

it lies on the borders of nothingness.

-this is for you, wini.

2005-12-04T22:03:00.000+08:00

i say, don't you know?
you say, you don't know.
i say, take me out.

there's no need for us to play with perhaps, maybe[s] or what-ifs anymore. there's no need for you to walk past me like how you'd walk past one of those random strangers milling around, one of those faces whom you'd glance at then look right through. there's no need, there really isn't.

because if you'd just look me in the eyes and give me the answer i've been seeking, all this uncertainty would melt away into reality and only then, perhaps i'd be able to move on.

2005-12-01T21:39:00.000+08:00

the sky's black.

but black isn't black. its the darkest of midnight blue, the faintest of indigo fusing with the warmest orange, swirls of pearl in the night sky. and once in awhile you see the whole of it lighted up and there you are awed in all its majesty because you now know.

black isn't black. not always, anyway.

2005-11-24T22:09:00.000+08:00

standing still.
the gravel crunched under my feet.

clouds of pearly grey cruise leisurely across the slowly darkening sky,
[bottoms?] lined with the warm orange glow
emanating from within.

they flow on serenely [wave after wave]
riding on the subdued lava
surging from beneath.

still standing.
the gravel crunching under my feet.

2005-11-17T22:44:00.000+08:00

relieve me of these worldly emotions, will you?

your hate, her love, their passion, my pain.

you're still there soaking up the warmth of the bathwater lapping gently against you, the bubbles having long ago disappeared [into the air?], the scent of pink lilies still hanging in the air just like how your hair hangs around your shoulders - damp, fresh, lush. i nudge you once more but you look at me with those eyes and i know i can never bear to evict you from that warmth even when i stand shivering from the cold.

2005-11-16T21:21:00.000+08:00

there're some lines one should never cross.

autonomy and freedom of speech come with conditions: basic respect and responsibility.

the marriage of freedom and responsibility is, arguably the most ideal. yet it is also the most elusive. it doesn't pay to be a hardcore right-winger or left-winger in this issue. how can you?

americans undoubtedly have the most amount of freedom. america: land of the free. you walk on the streets and there it is, waved right under your nose, pushed in your face, blatantly displayed in the gaits of all the americans whom you walk past. its this false little security bubble that each one of them lives in: they carry themselves behind the thin veneer of freedom thinking that its this impenetratable shield against the monstrousities of the world and they're all sadly misguided creatures who have not a single ounce of self awareness, a single ounce of consciousness that there is a world out there that is bigger than this, a world which reels from each and every vote they cast, feels the repercussion of each and every mistake they make.

i've never believed in the totalitarian approach. i never will. but that doesn't mean i will endorse such decadence.

there're some lines one should never cross.

2005-11-15T21:48:00.000+08:00

i remember the time when i wanted to get away from it all, wanted to run far, far away where i could only hear myself panting hard for breath, feel the damp moisture seep through my clothing, feel the blood pumping through my veins with a vengeance, hear nothing save the thumping sound my heart made as it beat against my chest.

but i suddenly realise how silly that is.

all that brazen bravado just to prove one's worth. what for?

i don't live for you. or anyone else, for that fact. i don't need to care. i don't. i don't. why should i?

you don't live your life for me. you're a mere pathetic footnote, needlessly amplified, exaggerated when you should be simply glossed over without any fuss whatsoever.

do what you wish. say what you want. i can't be bothered anymore. not now. not anymore.

socializing has become exhausting. time alone has never been more appreciated.

the games we play

2005-11-05T22:58:00.000+08:00

its so dark i can hardly see you. i hear you, of course. your heart beating away like a thousand little military drums badabump badabump. i smell your trepidation - somehow it has soldified in the stagnant air which we breathe and i could almost just reach out and touch it. its like being blindfolded: i can't see you but i sense you're near.

we're all circling the bright spot of light in the center. its glorifying. radiant to the point whereby the light seems to pierce the very pupils of your eyes, seeping in through the window to your soul and the effect is so purifying, so uplifting yet so painful you wince simply to look at it.

i sense you lurking nearby, sense you making your way forward from your dingy little corner toward this same light that has left me mesmerised, peeking at it through my fingers. you seem to flit around the same light anxiously, peering through your fingers to see if im gonna step in first, and sadly, so am i.

i so, so want you to grab me by the hand and pull me in there with you.

right now im still waiting. but if i sense you taking one step back im running. im running back to my dingy little corner. and i will stay there enveloped in the comforting darkness denying that you have ever seen me staring at the same light through my fingers, hearing the familiar tapping sounds that my tears make with the cold, concrete floor.

2005-11-02T22:06:00.000+08:00

i really don't think you can find true, soul-rending, honest love at this age. i won't blame you if you happen to fantasize about how he has promised to marry you in seven years' time when he's earned enough money. i won't blame you for thinking that the very first guy you date is gonna be the one. i won't blame you if you think this is the one, the one that's gonna last, the one that's gonna survive the test of time and all. i won't blame you, i really won't. im not exactly in the best position to judge. im just simply gonna say: im sorry, but i don't agree with you.

love, in modern context, has been touched up, beautified, cosmetically packaged into those cute little shiny packages which you see on the shelves now, one after the other they all look alike, and one after the other they all seem to promise the same thing: sweet nothings, precious memories, everlasting passion.

love is not something you can put a reason to. there are no qualifications in this game. there is no such thing as a set formula. is there a need for one? do you really need to put a how, when and what to it? you really can't plot all the points and expect it to join up in one smooth curve - its just unfair if you expect any relationship to turn out perfect at this point of time. variables change with time: the only constant you have is you, you and you.

wake up, won't you please, please wake up. this isn't perfect. and it never will be. sometimes i just feel like screaming at you, at your naivety, your youthful idealism and yet i hate myself because i admire you. because you have yet to have your wonderful little vision crushed by the seemingly overpowering stark realities of the world.

can't you see? you're up there drifting, floating as high as a cloud, serene, calm, oblivious to just how precarious your current position is, unknowing of the fact that all it takes is but one tiny droplet for your world to come crashing down in torrents and it will just never be the same again simply because the view from here is so, so different.

2005-10-26T23:39:00.000+08:00

i feel this immense guilt weighing upon my shoulders.

i need you to know i never did seem to reciprocate not because i didn't have any feelings. not because i didn't care. i didn't dare show anything because i was scared. i cared too much. i just didn't want to delude myself into thinking that there was sth just in case there really wasn't anything. and im sorry now. i really am. i need you to know now that i didn't mean for things to turn out this way. and i certainly don't want it this way either.

i want to tell you that i've been headstrong, prideful. and i want to tell you now i regret it. i want to tell you stop, please let's just stop playing the same ol' silly game of i-see-you-but-maybe-i'll-just-wait-for-you-to-say-hi-first. i want to tell you that i miss the days when you still had the time to chat with me. i want to tell you that you look so much cuter with your glasses on. i want to tell you so many, many things. things that pride have stopped me from saying.

there's just so many things you need to know, but time stands between us now like how my pride used to stand between my heart and my mind, and perhaps when time has passed you'll no longer be standing there and i'll be left alone with these same unspoken feelings which i swear are tearing me from inside out.

but for now all you need to know is that i've never really left. and im hoping you can say the same too.

2005-10-18T22:53:00.000+08:00

it hit me like a mack truck, like a sickening low blow to the guts that im not good enough i've never been good enough and i'll never be good enough. and it just keeps sinking lower and lower and lower down your belly until you kinda feel that your insides have sorta melted down inside, churning and you just feel like puking the crap outta your system.

im no longer at the top of my game. i've been pwned. im not number one. or number two or three or four or five or six or seven or eight or nine or ten or eleven or twelve or thirteen or fourteen or fifteen or sixteen or seventeen for that matter. im nowhere there. im average now. get it thru to yrself: average. i don't exactly suck but i do now. especially where im at. what im doing. what im studying. im a nobody, nothing. im not who you think me out to be anymore. so don't look at me expecting brilliance and then glossing over me with that condescending glance because i have tried. i really have but i still can't do it and now im tired. so please stop telling me that im capable of achieving really great things because here i am stuck and i know that i'll never attain the state of divinity. so please please stop giving me all these expectations because you're crushing me you are you really are.

you haven't crushed me with your expectations of me but you must know that i'll crush myself with expectations i've set myself because i so desperately seek the impossible myself. please don't raise me high, high up there and lie to me yes darling you're perfectly capable of that because im not. im not stupid. but im not brilliant either im just average. average. haven't you heard average? i may have been up there once but now its no longer the same. im with the best and this rat race is getting me down because im not in front and you[and i myself sometimes] no longer seem to be contented with just average. middle-class. whatever. maybe its me. i just so need to hear you say that im glad you tried your best its all that matters. perhaps its just me equating middleness as mediocrity. or maybe its you. but either way its time we both come to accept that i gotta be content with average because the drive to the top is killing me.

its like this silent scream that nobody ever hears. you scream and you claw with all your might at your self control til your nails bleed and the people outside peep in and the only thing they see is the light that's so blinding they can't seem to see that you've been rotting from within and the collective gasp of surprise you hear when they see you fall is so, so loud it almost, almost drowns out the screams.

2005-10-16T16:44:00.000+08:00

i know i like the rain but this one has been too depressing. suddenly it all hit me like a low blow to the guts and i just lay there on my bed and cried. really really cried. listening to 'unfold' by jason mraz on loop didn't help either. his vocals were just so amazingly honest and true and i broke down i really did.

maybe its just me. maybe its just today. maybe its just you. i don't know.

memories are for suckers who can't bear to leave the past behind, who see no hope in the road that lies ahead of them because they're blinded by the false security and warmth of a time long before, who stubbornly refuse to get a grip on themselves and move on.

2005-10-15T22:07:00.000+08:00

i wanted to lay my head on your shoulder and feel your head brush against mine, hear your familiar chuckle and feel your tenderness course thru' my veins. i wanted to put my hand in yours once more, just once more and never letting go until you had to leave. i wanted to know you, wanted to know who you are. what you like. what you thought about life. about this. about me. whether you liked chocolate or vanilla. whether you would mind just spending another day with me just chillin' out. i wanted to see you smile that smile of yours where you'd run your fingers through your hair and peek at me outta the corners of your eyes. i wanted to lose myself in you, you, you and nothing else, to breathe you in and never forget the first time.

guess i've been thinking too much in past tense now.

lost cause

2005-10-09T17:52:00.000+08:00

promos have been officially over for the past 48 hours but somehow the elation hasn't sunk in yet. and it should have. by now. i don't know if its because i didn't study as hard as i thought i did or if its because the disappointment at the stagnancy of things has overshadowed it.

well its shouldn't even be counted as stagnancy. its over. i just don't want to accept it even though its staring at me in the face. which is why im really disgusted with myself. bleugh.

on a lighter note: went out with my darling yest! angela and i prowled the entire of far east, shopped ourselves silly, ending up at coffee bean paragon just talking and talking and talking [i had a white choc dream and she had a iced vanilla] and then later at nydc gorging ourselves on this disgustingly sinful mudpie. haa and its true that we've been going out like tons more now that we're in different schs, but hey who cares! really had fun with ya yest man thanks so much for listening to me man. love ya.

and im astonished at how this entire entry has succeeded in portraying me as someone who's no different from one of those self-centered bimbos milling around town on a saturday afternoon. crap.

why? i think i've just lost my inspiration. and its gonna be some time before it comes back.

2005-10-06T20:48:00.000+08:00

i do wish you were here. i've missed you. but im telling myself im gonna have to move on if you don't seem to care that much anymore.

perhaps it eludes me because i care too much.

oh wells. give me a song that wasn't written for the lovers.

2005-09-25T20:41:00.000+08:00

i feel the endorphins pulsing through my veins and im glad for it. exercise really helps pull you out of the gloom i guess. [and i hope.] went for a nice jog just now with my dad and my brother and i can actually FEEL my metabolism rate starting to work again. yeah, baby. =]

prelims over, promos starting. this is really bad timing. yeah. but things don't have to be this way, if you get what i mean.

and somehow even though everything seems to be pointing to the big NO-ITS-OVER sign i still can't bear to even consider the fact that i have actually become that same stupid bitch i swore i would never become after the whole saga two years back.

because. because you don't do this just to any one else. no decent person would. [and oops silly me has just conviniently omitted the possibility that you may not have been a decent person right from the start but idealistic-naive-me chooses not to think so. question: what does this make me? STUPID?!] and yes. so apparently i am nothing but another name, another face, perhaps just another stupid bitch who has fallen for your apparently well-honed charms which i now suspect has worked its magic on countless, equally stupid pre-pubescent bimbos which may have even disappeared from your memory save for the collective term: 'my ex(s)'.

me. and you. and love is dead.

well. i really don't know. and actually i don't hope so. [me: YOU STUPID BITCH WHEN WILL YOU WAKE UP YOUR BLOODY IDEA?!]

hey. im 17. im entitled to my fair share of angst from time to time. i'll get over this in time to come. and one day when im filthy rich and surrounded by gorgeous hunks who ooze SEX outta their pores i'll just sit there and laugh at how i have so PWNED you and your sorry ass in this life.

[editor's note: this doesn't really sound like pheywa, but forgive her. she's having a real tough time with PMS. and she promises she'll be back with more decent entries after the effing-promos are over.]

it somehow just scares me

2005-09-18T16:26:00.000+08:00

i've never understood the fragility of our existence until now. how easily we succumb. how we simply slip into the world of never-ending sleep. how we leave so much devastation in the wake of it. so much heartache, tears, sorrow, regrets, unspoken words. goals left un-pursued, dreams left unfulfiled.

my heart aches. terribly. there's so much raw emotion going through me now but i can't seem to pen it all down despite knowing i must.

and im so scared. i've never been so scared in my entire life. i know death is a phase of life we all must go through but why now? and why in this way?

you fought the good fight. but you lost. may you rest in peace, uncle othman. you'll forever be in our fond memories.

right now im at a lost. i just simply need you around. save me.

2005-09-15T21:30:00.000+08:00

i have spent the week in delirium and i will continue to exist in this dreamlike state that i have come to realise that, no matter how much i try to deny, is where i don't mind being for awhile longer.

but somehow it hurts. it just does. its just the many little pinpricks of reason and emotion tearing away at each other and you feel it. the achy sensation in the void deep down there.

and it really doesn't lend itself to rationalisation. how can you rationalise it? do you really want to? do you want to put a reason, a formula, a thesis, a hypothesis to it? do you really need to plot the points and sketch a curve to see where it all joins up? perhaps swirl it around to make sure nothing's left behind? can you put a why, therefore, hence to it? is there a need to ask how, where, when, what? why question when you already know the answer?

it certainly wasn't meant to be like that. but of late i've been asking myself why. and how. and did you..?

i need more than answers now.

and just when

2005-09-13T21:39:00.000+08:00

and just when you mourn the death of it all.

i can't believe how im smiling now.

and its all there.

deliverance

2005-09-10T13:01:00.000+08:00

"a yearning for deliverance has always gone hand in hand with the knowledge of the tragic."

right now i can only pray for deliverance. deliverance from this dream-like stupor from which i have stubbornly refused to abandon. from the un-answered hopes and the all too familiar fears that engulf me once again. from the emotions which threaten to expose me of my inherent weaknesses.

too long have i conjured up excuses, reasons, explainations for you and myself. mere pathetic consolations to shield myself from the truth i know i must face up to.

i no longer want to stare at the reality and tell myself it isn't so just as to avoid the onset of the pain that is just to come because delaying it isn't gonna nullify it.

keep me anasthetized, or im waking up.

2005-09-08T13:37:00.000+08:00

this silence has told me more than i need to know. you won't believe me if i say it has crushed me. i don't believe it myself.

what irks me most is that i just can't bring myself to throw that last vestige of pride to the wind.

i know i would hate myself even more if i did.

tell me the truth and i would will these tears to stop. and i would carry on with my life and you with yours and we would be strangers once again. and i would be happier. happier than now. for at least then i would be living for me. for my dreams, aspirations, goals, ideals. and i wouldn't be living for the seemingly tangible fragments of hope which come in torrents, then trickle down to the nothingness which i now know i cannot bear.

random

2005-09-05T22:34:00.000+08:00

dependency stems from the fear of loss. loss being the knowledge that you've passed the stage where there's no return; where all you have left to carry on are memories: your private store of moments shared, fleeting emotions, heartbeats and heartbreaks. and when you look at what's left you cry because you know that's it, that's all there is to it - nothing's gonna pop out of the blue and surprise you again. its final. finito. you can look at what's left and smile, for ol' times sake, but can you? can you smile knowing the fact that hope isn't gonna bring you more? i can't.

you lead your life clinging on to that one spectre of hope: and this is what you get.

and yet again, who knows? who cares? for dependency is despised by pride: the wilful spirit that can never be tamed, conquered or controlled. perhaps you never will. and im glad you never will. because i never did.

i'd rather delete it all. just let me know when you're ready to be erased.

2005-09-03T21:44:00.000+08:00

its the heady influx of emotions -
the initial euphoria of seeing the tiny beaded black dots
of that beloved constellation
across the blinking screen.

unspoken thoughts whizzing past
expressed in text. words. letters:
belying the inherent warmth of your voice.

somehow, it just doesn't feel the same.

quote of the day: for all its complexities, love is but a word.
a fickle one at that.

2005-09-02T21:09:00.000+08:00

the compartmentalized exist between slabs of concrete
where the paint has cracked and peeled.

the bright gaudy lights of diverse hues
punctuate the bleakness of the spreading horizon - the
intensity unrivalled, save for the disappearing beacon of hope
above in the cloudless skies.

trapped in the labyrinth of towering monstrosities
with no way to convene [technological failure notwithstanding]

only intuition is left.

was suddenly inspired to write this whilst walking home from the bus stop one night.

i like being attuned to my surroundings. i love walking and looking at the sky, gazing into the wide expanse of the reality that's enveloping our existence, reveling in the sheer beauty of it, marvelling at the insignificance of my one spectre of being.

i love rainy days, when the clouds of pearly grey bunch up in the corner of the slowly-darkening sky, and the first trickles of random raindrops fall onto your face. the cool breeze just starting to whip up around your legs, your clothes billowing gently around you. the fallen leaves at your feet being blown into a frenzied spiral. the dampness of your hair. the smell of the impending rain diffusing through the stagnated air.

i just love it. don't you?

2005-08-27T20:39:00.000+08:00

she will be loved - the seemingly contrite nature of it
ever so mocking.
laughter reverberating in the empty chambers,
the echoes so painfully haunting - memories
of the past.

its transient quality ever fully understood,
appreciated
now that nothing, save the damp darkness
divides them [eternally?]

like the scented bathwater slowly swirls down with
the tears mingles, caught up in the whirlpool
making its last oscillations before
it drains out with its final gurgle - she
awaits, yet dreads the moment
of its final release.

she was loved.

2005-08-21T17:22:00.000+08:00

i dislike the sensation of hanging in mid-air; floating around, never landing - aimless, wandering. with no way but forward. is this the way you want things to be?

i hate the feeling of stagnancy. where you're living in the past, for the past, because of the past: because something within you just keeps telling you that there's nothing ahead, and the fear that the future holds nothing drives you mad and keeps you immobilized.

and i detest the fragility of my dreams. because of you.

oh wells. anw. had a nice juicy talk with wo-maan. abt the most scandalous things. which are too scandalous to be published on this blog. [she insists i mention it on my blog.]

lately i find myself hoping. too much. its not good. i don't like what im doing. but then again. i just can't help it.

the tears which have distorted my vision are powerless
to change the situation.
i cannot
will not
search for the salvation - that was once yours
and mine, knowing perhaps,
that it never existed.

has it..?

2005-08-21T16:44:00.000+08:00

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. wawa
2. bianbian
3. pheywa

THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
1. pheywa- always appearing positive despite the fact that you may really be negative.
2.
3.

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. hair
2. waist
3. erm. back?

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU DON’T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. eyes!
2. nose
3. fingers. i know this is weird but i have fat fingers.

THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. chinese. period.
2.
3.

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. failure
2. loss
3. mediocracy

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. handphone
2. yoghurt
3. milk. haa. im such a dairy-product-person.

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. SLTC shirt
2. brown shorts
3. underwear!? [duh.]

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS OR MUSICAL ARTISTS:
1. i don't exactly have favourites. i kinda listen to everyone. haa.
2.
3.

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS: [for now]
1. jamiroquai - little L
2. sixpence none the richer - kiss me
3. hepburn - i quit

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1. love
2. intuition
3. intimacy

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE (in no particular order):
1. i am a bimbo
2. i hate myself sometimes
3. i can't bring myself to lie

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE PREFERRED SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. shoulders
2. butt. haa.
3. chest. oops. sounds wrong.

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1. reading.
2. singing.
3. people-watching.

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. scream. loudly and repeatedly. [aka i am frustrated]
2. eat
3. talk to you.

THREE CAREERS YOU’RE CONSIDERING/YOU’VE CONSIDERED:
1. teacher [the horror!]
2. hi-5-ish career. aka. be glam, entertain kids and earn lotsa money. woohoo.
3. the office bitch. who has an affair with the sexy married boss. shit sounds wrong.

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. paris
2. the mediterranean
3. europe

THREE KID’S NAMES YOU LIKE:
1. i used to think rui was nice.
2.
3.

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. travel the world
2. record an album
3. learn some exotic dance. haa. sounds wrong too.

THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A GIRL/BOY:
1. i yelp at insects
2. i stare at cute guys. [does that count?]
3. i go crazy at make-up counters. all the nice dazzling colours. haa.

THREE CELEB CRUSHES:
1. tony leung
2. ewan macgregor
3. eric bana [in troy. oohlala.]

2005-08-18T22:00:00.000+08:00

upon first contact, your being merges seamlessly
into my psyche just like the random, lone raindrop
that has fallen from the overcast clouds above us,
disturbing the evident stillness of the puddle - the ripples
spreading until the edge, where all is silent again.

the union of the teardrop with the vastness of the pool
that has collected at my feet.

the smell of the rain that clouds my senses again as yet one more
escapes
and makes the downward spiral,
disappearing into the abyss that you left me in - but somehow
one more, just one more traces the path which your fingers left on my cheek
and falling
falling
falling into the darkness you swore you would save me from.

the silence, punctuated by the steady tapping of the raindrops
by my window
is something i hope you will never hear.

theory of relativity

2005-08-16T21:02:00.000+08:00

i pray that you will never see me cry.
because i know you never will.
not for me, you won't.

sometimes pride can be such a horrid thing.

nothing is standalone. it always has to be measured in relative to something else before you can know its true value.

i hate people playing mind games with me. i really do. say it to my face, man. i can take it.

don't give me false hope. i'd rather you dash my dreams now.

i hate myself because i know. i know that i'll never be able to face up to the truth. even if you told me.

pls let me down gently..? if i ever have to fall again.

sorry. random thoughts. i'll post right and proper once i get my thoughts sorted out. which may or may not be soon. yeah. and i've decided to embark on a little project of my own: to write poetry about love. haa. =] more poems coming up next post. pls tag and comment! thanks.

2005-08-12T23:58:00.000+08:00

and suddenly now im wrapped in the cocoon of your heart. trapped. cornered. immobile. wanting to run away from the steely coldness yet craving the smooth warmth of your embrace.

still stuck in eternal limbo.

i never cease to be amazed by the beauty of words. how they convey emotions so effortlessly, so convincingly, yet so deceptively. words.

yet words are only words. and words are only letters. and still they can't tell you what im feeling right now.

do you know? do you even care?

2005-08-10T19:24:00.000+08:00

the music plays in the background, gradually fading into
nothingness.
where nothing comes from.

or where nothing is made.
indeed - how such turmoil springs from the knowledge that
nothing
has become the common base where
everything
now is consolidated, constructed upon - the knowledge that
my everything
is nothing

to you.

haa. another poem written during my recent romantic whim. it isn't the entire poem tho. cos i've only decided to reveal the essence of it. don't question who, why, how, how, what or where. it just is.

there you were trippin' out.
cos you can't decide
what you really want from me

2005-08-04T21:19:00.000+08:00

moonlit romance.
with cloudless skies of ebony and a lone star to guide our way
where the grains of sand rub against the soles of our feet -
giving way, leaving our ephemeral traces of existence in the glistening wet shore
swallowed by the gentle lapping waves playfully nipping at our ankles.

the sweet scent of pink lilies diffuses through the air
capturing the almost child-like wonder as my hand is enveloped in the warmth of yours -
tenderness fused with the rough etches of your palm: love personified.

feelings rush through like a shot to the head
the intensity of initial emotions spreading slowly
mellowing into the ever-present flutter of composure
each time you look into my eyes and say -

and suddenly.
[almost] too suddenly the sparkling rays of sunshine creeps over your tousled hair
signaling the end
and the beginning.

thank you

2005-07-28T21:47:00.000+08:00

its the sort of resentment and anger that's fueled by yrself that you can never overcome. there's no need to placate me. i will not stand for my own failures. ultimately i have been disappointed by myself time and time again because im nowhere near the person i would like to be, nowhere near the person who i think i should be.

and i do not need anyone to remind me of that.

more of this another day. its supposed to be a happy post.

this is a special mention to those pple who've stood by me esp when i thought i had lost it.

wini: im really thankful our friendship got back on track. thanks for the support you've shown me during the past 2 weeks. i won't let you or the club down.

angela: your words always come at the right time haa. you're someone i can always count on to give me the truth. thanks, girl.

hui zhong: thanks for always encouraging me, and showing me that life isn't really the pits. and for always cheering me up when im down.

rina: i love talking to you cos you're always such a down-to-earth person. and somehow i learn so much frm you, esp how to treasure whatever we have now. blake would have loved you too.

enqi: yr wacky smile and heck-care attitude always makes my day. haa. thanks for caring when i needed it most.

and you: simply for making me smile. at the most unlikely things.

hmm. seems like i've many other things to say to many other pple. well. one at a time.

2005-07-25T21:26:00.000+08:00

things are falling into place. [well at least tt's what i hope] now i realise alot of my fears are seriously self-induced. oh wells. and i hope it stays that way. i'd rather fear not living up to my own expectations than fear that i can't live up to the expectations other people have of me.

sometimes. just sometimes. i feel like i can't make it through the day. everything just weighs down upon so heavily its suffocating me; choking, stifling. and its just me. me. me. i can't live with myself knowing that im just mediocre. i can't live with the fact that i seem to screw any responsiblity i get. and i can't really live with the fact that i've let so many pple who love me down, simply because im an ignorant, selfish, insensitive, self-centred person who can't even take abit of time off to listen to 'em. and most of all i can't live with the self insecurity that i made it so far by sheer luck, and eventually i am gonna so screw my life up, end up getting married at 22 to some NSman, have 3.72 kids by the time im 35, and finally die alone in a one room HDB flat in my 70s[if im lucky] cos my kids have refused to care about me.

argh. whatever. ok. so that was abit far-fetched. but you get the idea don't you? if you still don't. well that's too bad. im not gonna repeat myself again.

2005-07-15T20:45:00.000+08:00

Your dating personality profile:

Liberal - Politics matters to you, and you aren't afraid to share your left-leaning views. You would never be caught voting for a conservative candidate.
Athletic - Physical fitness is one of your priorities. You find the time to work athletic pursuits into your schedule. You enjoy being active.
Sensual - You are not particularly shy when it comes to your sexuality. You know what you like and do not feel inhibited.

Your date match profile:

Athletic - You aren't looking for a couch potato. You seek someone who is active and who keeps his body in top shape.
Funny - You consider a good sense of humor a major necessity in a date. If his jokes make you laugh, he has won your heart.
Conservative - Forget liberals, you need a conservative match. Political discussions interest you, and a conservative will offer the viewpoint you need.

Your Top Ten Traits

1. Liberal
2. Athletic
3. Sensual
4. Adventurous
5. Funny
6. Romantic
7. Intellectual
8. Practical
9. Wealthy/Ambitious
10. Big-Hearted

Your Top Ten Match Traits

1. Athletic
2. Funny
3. Conservative
4. Adventurous
5. Shy
6. Romantic
7. Practical
8. Intellectual
9. Sensual
10. Traditional

Take the Online Dating'>http://www.datingdiversions.com/">Dating Profile Quiz at Dating'>http://www.datingdiversions.com/">Dating Diversions

now what?

2005-07-14T21:38:00.000+08:00

before i start. an important announcement! [i know this is kinda late but anyway. here goes..] -ahem- NANYANG AND HC JUDO HAVE WON THE A, B & C DIVISION NATIONAL JUDO CHAMPIONSHIPS! =] 15-NIL. 14 IPPONS. im so damn proud of everyone. and this victory can almost make up for the lost we endured last year. i love you babes!

elections today. im not sure everything turned out the way it was supposed to be. somehow i feel lost. with the huge responsibility looming in front of me, im not as assured of myself as i was one year ago. i don't feel headstrong, foolhardy - i don't feel like i can take on the world again. somehow i feel small, vulnerable, still aching from the previous hard fall. i know i can never forgive myself for whatever happened last year, because deep inside me i know its still my fault. time can never erase the simple fact that our defeat last year was my doing.

i don't know if this is what they term 'growing up'. but im suddenly tired. i don't know if i can still do this especially when everyone else is gone. im gonna have to depend on myself from now on. nobody else. and i have to be the very last to fall.

and this time, im still not going down without a fight. this goes out to all of y'all who have believed in me at any one pt of time or another: im gonna make it.

so this is how it feels like.

2005-07-06T20:57:00.000+08:00

it all boils down to the final 3 minutes [or less] after the entire year's worth of training. i know im not exactly passionate abt the sport, but i do hate losing, and this time, im not going down without a fight.

this is our year. and we're gonna win. just watch us.

ruffles, anyone?

what's love?

2005-06-17T21:57:00.000+08:00

its entirely astonishing, scary even - the many ways people look at love. i like to think of myself as a traditionalist when it comes to love. like this old fuddy-duddy who'd advocate no-premaritial-sex. but when i realise im living amongst people who have no qualms screaming 'BOOBS' in the auditorium - i know im in the wrong era.

how wld you want to fall in love? what does it even mean by 'falling in love'? what would you classify as a relationship? is it ok to date but not go steady? since when did love become a quest? was love ever meant to be just miraculously dropped into your lap? isn't the root of hate, love? where does sex come into the picture? do you love the person you marry, or marry the person you love?

i absolutely detest the idea of a relationship being based on where you go with him, what you've done with him, where you've been seen with him, the words he's said to you, the things he's bought you, whether you've ate dinner together, held hands, kissed etc. is that all a relationship is based on? what happened to common visions, goals, ideals, philosophies and dreams?

i guess, for me, love is more like the realisation of your one and only soulmate, the knowing that he/she treats you as his/her soulmate too, and that he/she knows you better than you know yourself, and that he/she will always be there for you.

and im still looking.