i bleed ink

2006-06-15T21:49:00.000+08:00

can you blame me for curiousity?

2006-02-03T23:17:00.000+08:00

i'm waking dreaming waking again, but somewhere along the line i seem to have confused dreaming and reality, pinch me awake somebody. i'm not myself anymore, i've been diluted and stirred; i'm like some stupid shadow trailing around after various people, feeling like an intruder. fed up fed up fed up

second first day

2006-01-03T22:47:00.000+08:00

Crown and anchor me
Or let me sail away
-Sarah McLachlan, Blue

school's become just this period in between vacations. it's some dreary in-between filled with uniforms, work, more work, grades. exams. i'm so out of the loop these days, i sit with people who talk and laugh and point and i don't understand what's happening at all, and secretly wondering if they're laughing at me. but finding out's lost its charm, got tarnished and shut away in some box that marks the passing of time. i'm scared of this, of this not bothering with the world anymore, of shutting myself away in some sort of self-imposed exile like a few years ago- fix a smile on your face, and it's ok.

this year looks like one of choices, and i'm afraid again. afraid, scared- not yet terrified. so many factors, not just x and y, multiply and divide you way to a certain ending. wanting. to withdraw into my shell and never come out. but age comes with maturity, so they say. and running away never helped me in any case, except to prolong the agony. i should quit fighting it and just go with the flow.

so it's back to curved blue rows of seats, cranky air-cons that stop working in the middle of a lecture, long white benches and wires on the railing, and more looking over a field with small white dots on it that pass as boys.

and it's back to hoping to finally be able to do just what i want to do, finding out who i want to be, being. ordinary, brown. sneaking off to have ice-cream, running down to the canteen between blocks to buy food, pretending to have done math tutorials, going with the flow.

it might be a good year after all.

it's hard to admit, but yeah i missed you too

2005-12-04T22:46:00.000+08:00

thanks for the when and not if, i'm not too sure about the sanity but since you're good with it i shall be too. you're such an ass in the affectionate way. we'll meet again in a million years, and we'll be Grown Up, if we're not Dead, and we shall see who's right about the future though i have a funny feeling we'll be both right and wrong; it always ends up this way or is this my attempt at being politically correct. but for whatever my pathetic wish/prayer's worth, i hope you'll be happy. and thanks for always making me laugh.

another you said you hated pride and prejudice because it was all about sitting around and drinking from teacups but there is this strange peacefulness that comes with good china and earl grey. when i think of tea ladies in high back chairs wearing white lace and large hats invariably come to mind, along with the clinkclink of silver spoons and dainty cakes, too many movies have corrupted me. peacefulness is a euphemism because it's really a drug. fumes intoxicate. i'm not immune, immune to society and the rules that come along with it. the semblence of order is a pleasant thing, it's too easy to believe in routine. but i suppose it's good to give myself a hard kick once in a while just to remind myself that rules have loopholes too and they're there to be exploited. oh, adrenaline.

i'm not complicated, i'm just seventeen

2005-12-02T22:50:00.000+08:00

it's raining, pouring, inside my head and out.

fool you tell it like it is

2005-11-20T22:46:00.000+08:00

i am sitting waiting wishing. reading godot.
not wondering about existentialism.
i should believe in ressurections because i am a good christian.
not.
irritated because i have a cold and i am not a good invalid.
did plath name ariel after her horse, the tempest or both
what's up with this state of limbo
i dont think you need the sdu i just need my head checked
ella has just cemented my belief in my stupidity sigh. sssssssttttuuupid
je ne me quitte pas
a little fall of rain sounds strange in japanese
but oh well i laughed when i heard castle in a cloud in french anyway
all the strange songs
everyday i love you less and less, its good to see you're obsessed
my playlist's on shuffle
do you listen to techno- now was that a lyric i can't remember
pondering sounds so ponderous
like some fat old man with legs like tree trunks fumbling along
i should learn sign language in case i ever go deaf
girl a girl b boy c
there's a tissue paper mountain growing
im getting sick of myself
i hope you choke you choke
getting out of the house is neccessary for sanity
i cleaned out my computer, now if i can start on the house
and on me
it would be good i think
to give my brain a good spring clean
dust out all the demons lurking the corners
if only it was so easy
we'd be unrecognisably
shiny happy
and not tired and random and sniffly
i wish everybody'd stop screaming over my head
i'm not deaf
just miserable

wishing tree and apologies

2005-11-14T20:14:00.000+08:00

i no longer want to read about anything sad. anything violent, anything disturbing, anything like that. no funerals at the end, though there can be some in the middle. if there must be deaths, let there be resurrections, or at least a Heaven so we know where we are.
-magaret atwood

before they cut it down the tree stood in a corner of the field, in the middle of the route between home and the train, a convenient marker to measure progress. it was white, like bleached bones, and if you sat on a car it would seem like a skeletal hand reaching out of the ground to the sky; if you were moving fast enough it would simply be a white blob at the corner of your eye.

that was before they cut it down, lopped off the branches and piled them by the side of the pavement, wood chips sighing softly as they flaked their way slowly, inevitably onto the grass; before the red wood formed a silent 'o' of surprise as the stump nakedly gaped at newfound liberation.

but this isn't about a tree, isn't about what but about why- why up the down escalator and why i can't find a hundred and sixty words (that's not counting the spaces) to explain myself. life's a multiple choice questions and there isn't an easy option that says 'all of the above'

A. silence is something i wrap around like silver bark, a spirit too delicate, to act earthy and abhorr'd commands. it goes. against my grain. to let the silence peel from me, to step out from my cloven pine. i would not have you intrude on silence, my silence (because face it, i'm possessive and selfish); silence today is two parts grief one part pride the rest of it need there are nuances that you can't read. and if you cut me i bleed darkness and surprise, resignedly.

B. there could be a nine hundred and ninety nine other reasons, minus the one above which i have already told you

C. or you could take it that i routinely ignore hundreds of other strangers daily and you're just another statistic.

alright this isn't an apology (because apologies are overrated if you ask me; this smacks of intellectual superiority but i don't mean it really), it's more about the why and how if you have to say hello theres not point because everything leads to goodbye. it doesn't matter if you don't understand this because you've never understood me anyway, at least not yet because hope is in the future tense.

i'm just like that.

oh no, i am not depressing

2005-11-14T09:07:00.000+08:00

i dreamt that i went to ntuc and there was an offer for two packets of farmhouse milk for $4.20 and free fruit juice from peel fresh. and i was happy happy happy. seriously starting to doubt my sanity. it's either that or i'm just very easy to please.

ok shall update more after coming back from 7-11 where the Holy Gods of Newspaper reside :D

i'll sing it one last time for you

2005-11-08T17:56:00.000+08:00

i want to. drown out sound. no, i want to drown in sound. the beginning of 'run' kills me, it reminds me why i want to learn to the guitar instead of drums. the lyrics are inane, the chorus is too lush but the riff is love. love love in its best and most painful. you've been the only thing thing that's right/in all the things i've done.
but this doesn't feel right. being tied down chokes me. su-e i can't i can't. it'll kill me. you knew that i'm sure. this Thing's just not in my system. i wasn't made for Together Forever. i can barely look at you
you said i looked different; i didn't notice anything, maybe it was gradual. maybe time just chipped away at the planes my face and made it sharper, harder, more bitter. honestly it's probably just my glasses. you've lost that ability to see behind. you've stopped being able to read my silences. we've become a rigamole of hellos goodbyes and crappy in-betweens. the pauses are so uncomfortable we fill them with words. i've lost you i think, i'll have to strike you off the list, draw a line through you. make a new you-shaped hole in my heart. it's a raw wound but it'll heal. it'll heal.

they were shooting crows in the field outside my window. i uncurled from bed at the third shot and stood there watching the birds scream warning, wheeling in the sky. i saw. the fourth shot as the last bird in the flock fell and the rest suddenly beat higher faster more desperate. the black bodies in the grass looked like tiny graves. the paint spots on my window pane remind me of birds in the distance. but at the end of it all i'm still earthbound.

then we really have to go

i want to, i want to be someone else or i'll explode

2005-11-05T20:58:00.000+08:00

pw sucks shit

x

you look. curiously like a tourist in your photos, even though this is the same scene we've walked through for the past ten years. maybe i shouldn't over-analyse the way you don't belong and how the colour of your sweater clashes with the two-d sky. you'll only just be a visitor to my world.

buy a little time for this head of mine

2005-10-28T21:37:00.000+08:00

i want to stop some random person on the street and ask them excuse me do you think you're insane i think it would be amusing.

in a fit of Determination i have decided to draw up a holiday plan or at least a list of Things I Want To Do because i keep forgetting and this time i'm going to try not to. sitting down and thinking things through does wonders.

01 i am going to hit the gym/track/whatever because the new mantra is Toned not Skinny and i am not going to look like the near-anorexic shit i was in secondary school.

02 i will start saving up to buy all the books i want because that means i will eat less (which contributes to #1) and because i'm sick of having to make trips to the library to borrow everything i want and not being able to scribble things in the margins. i can always make the excuse that it's for s lit. milan kundera here i come.

03 i am going to shopping for new clothes because the colours i have are black, black and black. ok, i like black but i don't want people do think i don't wash my clothes or something. i mean, even a has decided to wear white every week because he says at least it'll balance out the amount of black i wear. that must surely be a Sign.

04 i will be Disciplined and Extremely Good because i've been far too indulgent with myself. math, econs and geography, in that order. colin says math is a definite A but i need to stop feeling so complacent; go away colin.

05 i will be sociable and enthusiastic and happy and stop feeling like i need to run away from people all the time. i want to buy this nice big house and lock myself in it, just me and technology, and i'd be terribly happy. except that like as esther says, it just means i want to cut myself off from people and only get in touch with them when i want to. when you rephrase things you realise you're being selfish. that i'm not the only one is small consolation.

06 i am going to go out and play as hard as i can because there won't be time for that next year.

07 i will make promises and keep them. even those to myself.

08 i will be a nicer person (oh, but this is hard)

09 i will take a leaf out of jonsng's nick and get out of the boat to walk to on the water. that is, if i don't drown while doing it.

10 i will keep my promise to su-e. argh, you irritating ___________

listening] dios malos/i'm only daydreaming

should i believe in deus ex machina

2005-10-27T21:35:00.000+08:00

biatch is a variant pronouncation of bitch used in the late 90's

says the dictionary of everything.com. and i'm quite sure everybody knows what a bitch is besides being a female dog.

divine b surprises in all the funny ways, like saying the pc question was a biatch. its hard to associate slang with the divine. so much of divinity is in being un-understood (is there such a word, i don't think so). the mysticism is simply wearing off.

everybody is off in the School getting their asses scared off. i'm not because 1) there wasn't anybody to go with me 2) i'm so not a glutton for self-punishment 3) i'm a sucker 4) i'm a lazy sucker 5) i'm a lazy sucker who overslept. the school's scary enough with p walking around in the day time.

today i went to school for nothing at all, no classes, nothing. esther said oh, lear-like pronunciations! before she ~~disappeared~~ abandoned me for sleep and aspirin. i think reason two in the paragraph above is questionable. but there was nice tomyam and talk about weird friends, so maybe it made up for it. boys smell after soccer/captain's ball. it's only the boys because ella doesn't smell. obviously boys are lesser beings. it's either that or i have a sensitive nose.

i am surfing around and feeling incredibly bored. at least i'm not feeling sleepy; i shouldn't be after a four hour nap. the rain's beating in on my dad who's snoring on the sofa. i have this sudden urge to run down to the beach and scream at the sea.

burn myself

2005-10-16T23:31:00.000+08:00

i would like to convince myself that i don't need somebody else's approval, that i'm my own person. maybe if i believe in it hard enough it'll come true. the solution to all my problems is that i just have to channel somebody powerful and confident and clever, please apply within, resume not necessary. i need to do something right now right now other than spew out all these words on this not-quite paper-- this state of sitting-here-every-night-and-talking-to-random-people has to end; i need to grab my shopping bags and get a new life, i'm sure they sell sizes that fit.

maybe writing sam's letter will be cathartic, maybe it'll give me something better to do, maybe my red letter day will come after all this dreary drabness. where is my sensation of now now i'm sick of then.

too fat cannot fly

2005-10-10T22:50:00.000+08:00

you keep reminding me each time you sign in, that i have far too much earthly weight to rise above the ground. i'm immature, i use people, i'm selfish in all the small but important ways. there is no Greater Purpose just some mad desperate attempt to keep myself happy; no direction at all i'm just lost in the whirl of words, a jump from one emotional high to the next. i've been too unkind, i'm sorry. i've been distant, i'm sorry. i'm sorry for being myself, most of all.

these hills are too green and sweet to have tasted salt

2005-10-07T21:40:00.000+08:00

there is a curious lack of colour in my world, maybe i expected happiness to burst over me in all the differentcoloursoftherainbow, shatter the glass roof like my cartoon superhero and whisk me off to my movie script ending, that now this placid state is unsettling. the record is set to 'flunk' and the replay button's stuck; there's a sea somewhere at the end of it i know.

five parts of eternity

2005-09-24T21:47:00.000+08:00

i.
it's a perfect panorama of earth and sky, almost, with nothing in between but silence and the rushing wind. it's glorious glorious and golden; the feel of the ground beneath and the breath of the morning, it promises something more than yesterday and less than tomorrow - this is howto die - with the imprint of gold and glory behind your eyelids.

ii.
your favourite colour is the gold of weddings and eternity, the sort that won't tarnish, at least not in my memory. you're the smoky richness of jazz lounges. the sound of you makes my toes curl and want to shuffle-slide the rhythm of us on the floorboards, it's a lazy comfort. you pick me up in the bassline and the gentle dumdumdum confuses the beating of our hearts. it's never too fast, i can catch up, my feet will find the right steps. somewhere somebody plays the first bar of a melody. the notes drop like glass and shatter in the distance; they lie on the ground reflecting the dusky light and in the red gold glow they look like the first leaves of autumn.

iii.
i like the purple-black of evenings and sound of the key in the lock. it makes me think of silences, the words that frame them and the ink that makes them stand out starkly on paper. i like how our breath mists in winter and how our eyelashes catch the snow. i like how you forget the lyrics to christmas carols and fit in a deedeedum instead. i don't understand icelandic but i think i understand the meaning behind the words. it's like how i don't know you but i know you anyway. i know how you like your coffee in the morning (black, with sugar and no milk), that your right sock has a hole in the toe and you go commando on fridays. i like to think you understand me that way too, and even if you don't - i like vanilla milkshakes, that's a start.

iv.
sometimes i pretend i'm on the precipice with the wind messing up my hair and blowing me ragged about the edges. sometimes i step off and when that happens i fall forever but i'm happy falling because i don't know where i'm going to land; it's the landing that hurts the most and ignorance is bliss so they say. sometimes i stay up there to watch the sunrise and in the back of my mind i'm sad because i'll have to watch yet another sunset. but most of the time i climb down just in time to have you stand in front of me, asking me whether i want cornflakes or toast for breakfast. i wonder if you know that i'm on the edge, and if you knew, would you push me, ask me to stay, or fall with me. buttered scones are love.

v.
then morning comes, and i just have to close my eyes and breathe before i change my mind.

---
i feel so empty once all the words have come out.

2005-09-18T23:09:00.000+08:00

words, like every other human invention, are woefully inadequate and always break down in the middle of my using them.

2005-09-13T22:58:00.000+08:00

i need to stop feeling like an echo and more like myself real solid stable and not so likely to fade away.

i need to follow the yellow brick road go over the rainbow i need i need too many things and i'm being selfish again, but i don't think i'll ever stop needing when will i grow up. you tell me i'll grow up eventually, i think i hate the words inevitable eventually because they remind me i don't have control over everything and don't you feel helpless when the bottom drops out from under your feet.

i hate feeling needy i hate feeling helpless i confuse everything with hating myself. i apologise too much and mean it far too little but there are times when i mean it so much i can't put it in words and it's fecking funny that when i'm really sorry i don't say anything at all. i'm such a hypocrite i tell people things are alright when i know and he knows that they aren't but i'm trying to be nice and all i do is mess things up really. can't stand myself can't stand me can't stand what i'm standing for but what am i standing for i don't know. hello what's with my indecision. i can't belive seventeen years hasn't taught me anything, that i haven't learnt anything after all my bruises and scrapes, that i only dislike people because they remind me too much of myself.

i want to hit something, sound the alarm, shock myself into alertness because it's 16-days-to-promos, i'm still hanging around like i have nothing to do when there's enough work on my table to bury it bury me but it still doens't feel like an emergency when it should. breathe in breathe out i'm still not moving.

where's the panic button.

it's all about balance baby

2005-09-08T23:40:00.000+08:00

i had the impression that you fell down the steps you say and i tell you no not quite and i would know if my body decided to hug the floor except that the floor didn't quite love me back and now i have a purple ankle, a torn ligament and school's going to be hell on monday. at least you didnt break your leg, i am such a great comforter you say and yes yes you are because it's all about relativity and it's managed to push me back to technicolour reality but wait you forgot the remote how am i supposed to turn it back off

it's funny how all i can think about now is not how much it hurts but that i'm going to miss pe on tuesday do we all think about the weird small things and miss the big picture hello somebody pull me back so i can stop thinking with my nose to the wall and my sentences run on like the thoughts in my head it's nice how for once i can capture all the things that i want to say i'll write like this until i find a better way.

i'm frustrated with my body's limitations. i would say i feel like catherine right now except that i don't think a catherine really exists she's some sort of hyperbole so i'm only talking about this tiny facet of her i could never feel entirely like she did i'm not as intense, i don't wish to be. i've had enough of me already, who wants to take over?

livejournal livejournal livejournal

2005-09-06T20:25:00.000+08:00

everybody should sign up for a livejournal account now 'cos my new layout there rocks kthanxbye.

i just need to keep breathing, then everything'll be ok

2005-09-01T20:38:00.000+08:00

i don't seek attention, i demand it. i hate it when you brush me aside; maybe i'm being too sensitive and all that but you make me feel Stupid. stop pretending to be polite, because your sugar-coated contempt doesn't fool me at all. i'm not that dumb, not yet. what the hell do you expect me to do anyway. i'm already dancing around you on tiptoe. i'm stupid and have a paper cut, which makes me feel absofuckingfantastic Right Now.

Right Now's when i feel so frustrated that i could cry.

right now, it's not just about math. not just the literal onetwothree, but the dy/dx of relationships. what we equate to be. how we peter out.

it's also about no one noticing when i spontaneously combust.

i'm entitled to bad days too

2005-08-22T22:29:00.000+08:00

i'm pissed with you, i bet you can't tell. and even if you knew, you wouldnt know what i'm sore about anyway, so it wouldn't make a difference.

alternate anarchy

2005-08-10T20:58:00.000+08:00

i need to relax. no, i want to relax- but my brain persistently, stubbornly, URGENTLY believes in cogito ergo sum. its an endless petty grind, some relentless great big wheel turning in my mind and it goes nowhere. and he tells me not to worry my pretty head about it, just lie back and enjoy the moment as it passes but i feel the spokes digging into my insides; i cant i cant and i feel like alice chasing the white rabbit except that this time i have the watch and it's me who's worried about the time. every tickticktick's as loud as a drumbeat and i can't decide which door i'm supposed to open, even though i've dreamt it before. is it right or is it left, i can't make up my mind, and there's not turning back, no rewind button, no pause no stop--

munch got it right in 'the scream'- the moment of sheer panic's when the sky starts fragment and twist itself into its different colours. and you feel yourself start to unwind, like if somebody grabbed a stray thread and PULLED, you'll unravel into this shapeless, sentient pool of thing.

there's no amount of thinking that'd save you from falling down the rabbit hole.

bang the drum slowly play the pipe lowly
to dust be returning from dust we begin
bang the drum slowly I'll speak of things holy
above and below me world without end

listening] emmylouharris//bang the drum slowly

around and around in circles

2005-07-16T14:57:00.000+08:00

i feel compartmentalised. there's a humans me, there's a 412 me, theres a clique me, there's a co me, there's an rg me. i'm a different person for every occasion, and i don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, am i being too hypocritical and is the real me buried underneath all this crap or am i just a weird mish-mash of everything together.

i'm starting to think that it's stupid to psycho-analyse people, that psychology is a fascinating but stupid subject, because like all sciences you have to make assumptions, and there are always exceptions, somehow, and assuming things about people all boils down to stereotypes, which is what i do to people, and it's wrong i know, but it's just so convenient to point at somebody and tell them that they're anal retentive and it has to do with not being potty trained, or going to the toilet too often or something in their youth. it's so convenient that it's too convenient, and it's degrading to be shoved into some type A category and to have somebody manipulate you by their assumptions on how you would reaction in blahblah situation. ella said i put people into boxes, and i admit i do, i think everybody does. how else do you choose your friends? and i don't believe in predestination. but i also do try to keep an open mind, and i'm fairly nice to everybody (i think) and that has the consequence of making me abit bland. or maybe abit's an understatement.

i feel like sticking my tongue out at the stupid system, to break away from the norm, to throw all those careful analysis in the face of the professionals, but then anti-culture is a form of culture if you think of it, and struggling against it would be stupid, not to mention futile. and then i'm back where i started, still wondering about human nature, thinking that it can't be easily categorised, that it has all sorts of permutations and combinations somehow, and yet will we one day run out of the possible variations, or have we already done that. and i still don't know can't know won't know will never know who i am. and it irks me that i can't understand myself like i understand literature (and my parents say they can read me like a book, the irony), and to live with knowing all i'll ever have is a flawed half-realisation about myself, while outside everybody is changing and moving and living, is vaguely depressing. my thoughts are disorganised, jumbled up and loop back to the beginning. i feel like a dog trying to chase my tail. and life is just an exercise in futility. introspection sucks.

listening] garbage//cup of coffee

this journal is kinda dead

2005-07-16T00:03:00.000+08:00

...and that's the understatement of the year. but i miss blank canvases, and the freedom to design, and i much prefer the community at LJ, and the friend's i have there. not to mention the privacy, of course.

to appease whichever lost soul who has stumbled upon this quite, quite stagnant journal, here's a music meme.

a) What are your random ten songs?

natalie merchant // my skin
smashing pumpkins // quiet
the libertines // music when the lights go out
the helio sequence // the blood bleeds
tori amos // jamica inn
jason mraz // unfold
juli // perfekte welle (this is uber catchy, even though i don't really really understand what she's singing, hurhur.)
copeland // hold nothing back
the danny warhols // godless
neutral milk hotel //in an aeroplane over the sea

b) What is the total amount of music on your computer?
roughly 600 songs, 2 days, 3.19GB. quality, not quantity! but, always open to contributions, of course (:

c) The last cd you bought:
ah, some pretentious compilation called 'the alternative album'. which isn't too bad, really (for a compilation, that is)

d) Write down five songs you listen to alot or mean alot to you
jeff buckley hallelujah: this song gets me every time. it's slow, sad, and has just the right amount of guitar. but "you don't really care for music, do you"
elliot smith say yes: at least, that's what this song is called (i think), because on my playlist it's called "the morning after". it's a quiet guitarish track (do you spot a pattern here), and the line i'm most in love with is "i fell in love with the world/ through the eyes of a girl/ who's still around the morning after."
frou frou let go: "because there's beauty the the breakdown". 'nuff said. i love frou frou ♥
travis reoffender: it's another of those catchy songs then when i think about it, doesn't really mean very much to me, but the guitar riff that comes on in the beginning and continues on throughout the song just nails it for me. this is the song i write to, usually.
fiona apple across the universe: i'm just obsessed with this song, really. i have versions from the beatles, rufus wainwright, roger waters, the shins, the grammys live version- but nothing comes close to the languid feel of this one. and when she sings "nothing's going to change my world", you can feel the thread of desperation underneath, the idea that if you say it enough, think it hard enough, it'll come through. the beatles version is good too, but a little to twangy for my taste. NEVER LISTEN TO THE PINK FLOYD ONE. OR THE SHINS. OMG.

but if i were to pick the ONE song that means alot (and i mean ALOT) to me, it would be
iron&wine such great heights: i prefer this version slightly over the postal service version, because this one is quiet (there's no background, just him and the guitar) and sometimes the electronica bits in the postal service version tend to irritate me, depending on my mood. "but everything looks perfect from far away/"come down now"/but we'll stay"

...and there's tons more music i love, absolutely, but that'll have to wait for another day.

2005-05-23T22:27:00.000+08:00

i think i could fall in love with you

if i let myself.

fed up?

2005-05-19T21:48:00.000+08:00

there are people in the world i cannot stand, and whom i want to shake and rattle until somehow, the jigsaw puzzle bits in their brain fall together and they can actually BEGIN TO THINK.

"power of some sort or other will go on
in games, in riddles, seemingly at random;
but superstition, like belief, must die,
and what remains when disbelief has gone?
graass, weedy pavement, brambles, buttress, sky."

--philip larkin

look, there's a point to this

2005-05-10T21:28:00.000+08:00

trying too hard never got anyone anywhere;
unless you count nowhere.
but there isn't a place, not really
just a way to describe non-existence
which is where i'd rather be
instead of miserably here.

i'd rather be fed with candy-coloured lies
than dip into the bitterness of disappointment.
but life pries open your jaw
(none too gently)
and forces liquid shame down your throat
so that at the end of it all
you learn nothing
except that you
never have any choice in the matter.

the kindly ones

2005-05-09T20:12:00.000+08:00

all around me darkness gathers,
fading is the sun that shone;
we must speak of other matters:
you can be me when i'm gone.

.
.
.

flowers gathered in the morning,
afternoon they blossom on,
still are withered by the evening:
you can be me when i'm gone.

electric sheep #542

2005-05-08T00:21:00.000+08:00

here i am, being a complete whiny bitch, while everybody around me fusses and is nice, generally. i know i'm selfish, and knowing is half the battle won, i guess.

excuse me while i indulge in some wishful thinking.

edit and oh yes, syf gold with honours. great job, everybody -- especially dyb (: (eric, changfang, cheegake, jackson, kokchong, shouheng, mengni, justin, daryl, royston, brian...did i leave anybody out?)/edit

listening] rufus wainwright, across the universe

[insert title here]

2005-05-04T23:19:00.000+08:00

you make me feel like apologising for your utter stupidity. you sorry, pathetic little thing-- it's a miracle really, how you're still alive and kicking. if it weren't for something called morals or conscience (or a reluctance to get actually touch you), i'd have stabbed you long ago. clawed your eyes out, or something.

but you'll never guess, because you'll never know.

oh what fools these mortals be

listening] fuck forever, the libertines

with the flow

2005-04-30T23:43:00.000+08:00

i'm just living life without actually thinking, nowadays. and it's this constant state of un-awareness (if you can call it that) that irks me.

part of me's protesting that ignoring things don't make them go away, but then the lazy side of me tells me that ignorance is bliss, and that is my almost-motto in life afterall. thinking about this takes up far too much energy already, and i'm tired. being seventeen and nearly-two-months old takes a certain amount of effort, don't you think?

and i'm possibly one of the most self-obsessed seventeen year olds on the planet (the above sentence already gives that away), and i sometimes just wish everybody would think like me, but then i supply a gazillion reasons why people shouldn't . still, it's scary how i can progress from liking someone to being incredibly incredibly irritated with them, all because they don't see things from my point of view, or are not sensitive enough to realise certain things. i'm horrible at relationships, because i always give up halfway.

there's a mass of other words seething in my brain, but here is not the place, nor is it the time to say them. let's just suffice to say that i'm picky about my friends, and i think i have good reason to be. but sometimes even pickiness lets me down.

so, goodbye. for now.

listening] explosions in the sky, first breath after coma

this is plan b

2005-04-11T22:00:00.000+08:00

melodrama is rather ubiquitious nowadays, i'm just giving in to convention. high-minded, arty people, please do try to forgive.

but this sudden sense of weariness is inexplicable. and i'm not going to try rationalise it by saying something like, 'oh, it's because i get six hours of sleep', or i'm sick of this or that. i'm not going to try and think because it'll only make me MORE tired. and because i'm lazy, but that's the unofficial reason.

i've gone around the entire day making heart-shapes with the curve of my fingers, and it's interesting to frame people with your hands and see how they fit- the things i do when i'm bored. but when you remove your fingers everything doesn't seem like a peephole show anymore, and everything just seems bright and ordinary.

randomness: do you believe in six degrees of separation? i do, i think. it makes alot of people i sort of know. strangely enough, i ought to know myself best, but sometimes i just get this feeling that i haven't really quite explored me yet. i don't want to i think. it's best to leave me alone; i don't know if i'll like what i find. and ignorance is bliss. if i keep repeating the last statement maybe i'll start to believe it.

i somehow managed to drop a music stand on my knee today during music practice- it simply slid down my leg and i felt pleased that i managed to lift my foot in time so that it didn't land there- this teaches me not to well, rejoice too soon; now there's this red line of peforations running down my leg. like the sort you get on toilet paper. which amuses to no end despite the pain (with my sort of luck and immune system, it'll most likely get infected, again) because i can pretend i'm ripping myself apart. and imagine what'll come out, besides the blood. i mean, who knows. i might just shed my skin, let it just peel off and wriggle out of the last bit. it'd be a sort of rebirth. but then i'm just dreaming, will somebody pinch me awake?

or wait, don't, not yet.

maybe in a few years?

never sounds good too.

listening] froufrou, holding out for a hero

i'm no glass doll

2005-04-09T22:44:00.000+08:00

no i'm alright, thanks for everybody's concern. but i'm not made out of glass y'know; i don't think i break that easily.

or at least i like to believe that i don't.

perry thinks i look like my mother. he isn't the first to say that. funnily enough, everybody thought i looked like my dad when i was younger. the same everybody's now exclaiming over my mother's and mine uncanny resemblance. it pisses me off because i'll always be considered as a relation of somebody else and not my own person. i'll always be a comparison.

we tried to set dingo's uniform alight during litwing yesterday. it didn't, though his uniform got rather scorched. which is probably supposed to give me a sense of relief that i won't die when a fire breaks out or something. my wonderful, brown fire-proof uniform will keep me safe. how terribly encouraging, really.

yesterday's poetry reading was soothing-- to have words wash over you in the dark, while tealights throw their small glow over randomly scattered papers and pizza, is incredibly cliched, but pretty. sam and i walked back to class afterthat, and grinned at mr perry through the door, which threw him off what he was saying to our parents.

i still can't get over the fact that i'll never me able to get away from my mother. i'm imagining her in dictator-ish gear, brandishing this intimidating piece of broccoli, roaring 'resistance is futile!'. even in my dreams i have to ask her for permission to go on adventures.

when i'm twenty-one i swear i'll be off.

never is a promise

2005-04-02T23:20:00.000+08:00

somebody's fastfowarded the clock, i think
or else time's crept past
on tiptoe -
silently, soundlessly and cruelly
changing what was, into what now is
multiplying and subtracting
summing up

feelings packed into cardboard box of time,
mismash, conglomerate,
slightly worn at the edges so that instead of
being smartly neat
has become rounded and sadly sagging
under the weight of our differences

which have become more than just
the colour of our uniforms.
the dye's run and bled into our skin
and we stand apart
whiteandgreen, dirtybrown
birds of a feather flock together.
but we're of a different plumage, now

'forever' is too strong a word
to be used with 'friends'.

and never can be a promise, too.

(ok this is quite...fragmented. but nevermind. as long as you get what i mean.)

listening] fiona apple- across the universe

a series of unconnected events

2005-03-16T23:47:00.000+08:00

abstract.
It's not my tragedy, so why do I even bother? Trying to find myself is like trying to to piece together the pieces of a looking glass; the images reflected within a bothersome distraction. Your words don't mean anything, just pebbles and puddles and endless ripples on a smooth glass surface. I don't know if I'll remember this down the road, when we're forty and old and sipping tea from perfectly polished tea cups, so smooth that we can see every wrinkle and stain of sin; frowning at the lipstick stain and trying to wipe the disbelief from our eyes.

Did I just play a wrong chord? Oh I'm sorry.

But if you wring dry my paper heart you'll probably get enough ink to write your novel.

interact.
'Parental Enthusiasm' is an oxymoronic term; unless of course you're referring to things such as the 'cutting-of-hair-before-your-birthday', which would be one of the few exceptions, along with 'killing-all-members-of-the-male-species-in-close-contact-with-our-daughter'.

As to this uncurbed excitement about a haircut- I'd have to pay $10 once I turn 17. Does that sufficiently explain things?

Or if you still don't understand - I'D SAVE THEM $2 IF I WERE TO CUT MY HAIR EARLIER.

Are we still there? Good.

My hairdresser has exacted on me (how unfair, it wasn't my money-saving scheme anyway) what she probably terms retribution for cheating her of her money (I don't see why everybody's to uptight about $2!). I have a nice new hairstyle. But it would look much better on a boy.

It's terribly disconcerting to stare in the mirror and have this boyish, vaguely androgynous face looking back at you. For your information, my mirror only shows me until my shoulders. Ahem.

Brilliant birthday present, really.

And while we're on the topic of birthday presents - thanks to everybody in my section for remembering my birthday (my thanks is to everybody, but the pronoun doesn't cover the 'remembering' bit, I'm fairly sure). <33 It helped make me a little less miserable/irritated about 10hours of Chinese Orchestra. So all in all, a good day. I think.

So we burned all our uniforms
And let nature take its course again
And the big ones just eat all the little ones
That sent us back to the drawing board.

So says I.

..disconnect.

05A15 LOOK HERE! NOW!

2005-03-15T00:10:00.000+08:00

"hey, gery here. the humans bbq will be on the 19th (Sat), 5pm, depending on whether ailene can book the pit are her place. Here are some of the stuff we need, please reply as to what you will be bringing, we'll be splitting the food with A14:

*Rice/noodles - about 3 people to bring
*cutlery (plates,forks,spoons,cups,napkins)
chicken wings
sausages (ok so far andrew)
*drinks - 2 people x3
bacon
otah

*super important

you can bring other stuff as well, just tell us beforehand, yeah -grins- hope y'all respond this this post.

thanks lots!

ANNNNND.

class outing on 17th March (thurs), meet at dhoby gaut mrt at 11am! reply if you can make it (: "

(shamelessly copied and pasted)

and so i suppose

2005-03-14T21:01:00.000+08:00

...this is the first post. It's not going to be the last (hopefully), and neither is the layout going to remain this way for long (:

I haven't blogged publicly for ages and I'm suddenly at a loss for words. How do you say something that hasn't already been said before? Literally, I mean. Much of what I want to say's already in my eljay. And I'm still uncomfortable with having life typed out for all sundry to read. Give me elitism anyday. But oh well, here goes my attempt:

I rediscovered the joys of adobe yesterday! This makes me sound likes such a geek, I know, but I've only just realised how much I've missed designing something of my own. Everybody should just go release their inner-geek, really. Don't tell me you don't have one, there HAS to be one lurking in there somewhere.

But I digress; I'm supposed to talk about today. But then, I haven't been doing much (you have geog-woman to thank for that) so there's naturally nothing much to blog about. This is merely the mandatory first-post-upon-creation-of-journal. Unless you want a detailed breakdown of my sleeping patterns and description of the rorschach blot on my pillow, I don't really see a need to talk about my life. Or lack thereof.

(random: all my paragraphs start with 'I'. This says so much about my priorities.)

Oh, and I just realised that my template's the same as samtoh's. How terribly unoriginal.