the terms of endearment.

2003-10-22T08:37:00.000-07:00

~~since this People Asking is starting to get freaky, im going to make this less painful for me.~~

a tap dance, please.

2003-10-18T09:54:00.000-07:00

shifted, because i got struck on the head by lightning. ask, or dont ask, as i know alot of people will, judging by how even though i can only recall giving this url to a handful of people, i still get all sorts of people telling me what they read on my blog. disturbing, but doesnt really bother me.

just for the record, im not shifting to avoid anyone.

2003-10-18T09:35:00.000-07:00

he bought a new pack today, held them up one by one to me at the cafe like a magic trick. i've forgotten what half of them mean, but there was a day when i could tell just by the suggestion or by the pictures. and i have the itch to take out my own and go over them one by one, i can almost feel them under lock and key. i dont know whether to yell at you for reminding me or not.

i would like to be able to sing in the tone of a violin. that skippish lament. i like sad music, and tragic dances.

my computer's going crazy, and i wish i knew what to do. i watch the antivirus screens popping up telling me that my computer is trying to send an email, i feel like pulling the plug on the thing and running for help.

im just purely jealous, and fundamentally judgemental. tell me what to do about this, please. i dont even recognize it in myself. things are hard to tear apart.

i feel like i've been drowning lately, but this is as good as it gets. coz this blanketing listlessness only goes away when im feeling secure, which is like, what, exactly? certainly not independent.

i want to learn to flip.

the skin was stiched together, she looked like she'd been crying blood. i stood in line waiting for my pass, thinking about how many times i've just walked in, took the lift to the respective wards, and not dared to go in. once i lingered by the coffee machines for four hours while they said their take-cares and get-well-soons. i've never known what to say, or how to care.

2003-10-17T08:42:00.000-07:00

you're only honest when its good-lookin, and that's not really enough for me.

2003-10-17T02:50:00.000-07:00

things i would bring with me if i ran away from home
-money
-phone
-baggy jeans and a sweater (worn)
-picture of my family that stands on my cabinet. the one where i look so indignant and sorry at having my picture taken, at what, six years old? while my father holds my hand and my siblings grin from the background, looking their exact ages.
-the blue cross
-my bike
-a lighter
-water bottle
-all the food i can carry

that's you, really, all over the page. just like how the idea is charming, but the style is all wrong.

i dont want to sound like that. like an english essay, with perfect tenses. i refuse to surrender to being corny, even though i know it'll unwittingly happen even in my classic defiance. there are too many people in this world.

i want to rewind to monday when we had our lit exam, and redo my poetry piece. because I Am doesnt evoke any emotion in me at all. but Sorrow does. Sorrow really really does.

ma goes for her operation tomorrow, acting as if life goes on, but playing Christian songs with lyrics that go He will heal my disease all day long. i hear her sing along late at night, in a voice cracked and quivering, but ten times stronger than mine.

training tomorrow promises to be hell.

2003-10-16T07:28:00.000-07:00

the difference between you and me is how often we're looking up to check out what's going on with the rest of the world.

read this any way you want, because it doesnt make a difference to me.

2003-10-16T06:58:00.000-07:00

if i had a car, i might drive

You are Lime.
You are quirky and misunderstood. You are
definitely your own person. You don't let
anyone tell you who you should be. You never
sell out your values and beliefs, no matter
what. However, you can sometimes have trouble
fitting in, but only because you are
misunderstood.
Most Compatible With: Wintergreen

Which Tic-Tac Flavor Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
misunderstood is pushing it, isnt it? coz what is there to understand, really, about any one at all, at the end of the day?

i think i sold myself onto commas. and im craving baker's inn, and ice cream :) i'll worry about becoming fatter than fat some time else.

i would like to talk with my most sincere enemies, someday, and try to get a clue as to why i am screwed up (as most people are, really). maybe if we could leave our stereotypes and preconceived notions at the door, we might actually get somewhere. coz who else would tell you the honest-most truth about yourself really, your friends?

yesterdays
crepe              $ 3.00
giordano      $14.00
s&k                $24.00
mos               $12.10
sentosa         $ 3.00
cable car ride $ 7.50
neoprint         $ 1.00
zixi's present $11.00
total             $69.60

went to sentosa and got buried in sand, and Not Burnt, and all around amused. laughable bunch of guys on the yellow float, christl trying to hide from the sun, squealing and imagining plunging from goodness-knows how many feet high up in the cable car into the water. i would have liked a camera or something :) stayed over with xinyi and ate stuffed crust pizza, got to watch the cell block tango again, as well as a korean show that reminded me of my sassy girl, though not as charmingly lovable. how i want to go shopping again, how i had better not forget how much money they owe me, how i had to treat them to lunch because i was the last person to arrive.

i need to go job-hunting soon, apprehensive, i might say, the idea of how i might have to do this alone. i might as well learn to be brave, yes? instead of being just convincing.

who wont just feed me stars and flowers. have you ever wondered about me, like i've wondered about you?

every time he tries to reach out to me and plumb the proverbial depths of my soul he emerges covered in the random sewage algae, and smelling of the sharp shit. i should tell you not to do this, that we should just be happy and sane, laughing over random comedies in the cinema, with lots of buttery popcorn.

so lucky honey, i've been thinking that someday you and me will both grow up for real, and the things we do now will seem so ludicrious in our own eyes. our fragile appreciation and sense of beauty will collaspe, or shed its layers to be something new, and maybe we'll start being different people. you wont look like a ghost forever. can you imagine what it might be like, when we write differently (in other words, we think differently? ) ? i try some times and the thought both excites and scares me, but i can never imagine it being completely realistic, and i acknowledge the very real possibility of us (at least one of us) staying this way for the rest of our lives. as i said before but wondered whether to believe, you're not any more able than any of us hermits who try our hands at this game, you know? you're just more lucky, you lucky lucky honey.

they call to mind a bright lighted cafe with white walls and pressed sofas, clear glass windows for the light to stream in. they oozed their money and their impeccable style over cups of pricey foreign lattes, in branded tops and animal leather. their nails would be long and manicured, and they would talk of all things under the sun that i couldnt bring myself to keep up for more than half an hour. sometimes maybe they will talk in a language that i can understand, and i will marvel and be mistaken, and unconsciously wrong them in my own prejudices. oh, and they will be surrounded by shopping bags, all cream coloured and loosely patterned (i imagine), or maybe darker, bolder colours of the high-classified boutiques. after an hour or so or light-hearted conversation they will pick up their belongings with long slender fingers, and part ways at the door heading for candlelight dinners with respective boyfriends, girl-friends, people who will smile and kiss each other on the cheek and not haggle over the bill. i would be then a more independent person, id wear denim and coffee-stained tee-shirts all day, i'd struggle between catching my breath and rolling my eyes whenever one of them walked past. i wouldnt give a shit about being objective, or not being fundamentally judgemental, i'd just loathe, without really caring what went on in their lives. and they will only affect me when i am in their world, not when i am at mellow single-run coffe joints, unceremonious on linen couches and chipped glass, surrounded by endlessly droning guitars. in a perfect world, no one in such a place would give a shit, but i know that's never going to happen.

and while i know for sure that i dont really give that kind of shit, i would be lying if i said i wasnt occasionally inexplicably jealous or twisted about that prettily made up world, at least once in a while.

2003-10-14T02:58:00.000-07:00

if i understood italian, yours might be one of my favourite blogs of all time.

2003-10-14T01:36:00.000-07:00

my mind associates everything so much so that i couldnt listen to my favourite song if it were tainted like that.
-thursday, september 18th, 2003.

2003-10-14T01:34:00.000-07:00

and if we had to slug it out, using only our pride as the weapons in our hands, who would win, exactly?
and whoever we use against each other who gets caught in the crossfire, really the issue is just as simple as this.

i dont care, im gonna learn to not be like you, because talk is cheap and im not gonna keep scorecards like you do.

and porcelain breaks cleanly.

2003-10-13T08:39:00.000-07:00

no more exams, *gloatgloatgloat* :)
i like the gangster movies that are made with those harsh fluoroscent lightings. its not meant to look all soft and perfect anyway. infernal affairs was confusing, but well shot, and i liked it. and im pissed at the rating for 15, pissed at this stupid system
realized on the way home that i ate a (forbidden) chicken burger for lunch today. you're gonna kill me i know.
shaoning told me about the delta goodi-something song, said it reminded her of me.
i'll miss you by the end of the week, just see if i dont. i can deny it but at the end of the day all these thoughts bring me back to you
i hate it when people say that other people worship me. its such a silly, silly word. maybe because i've done it all before and i find reasons though not excuses for the things people do. i do that alot dont i.
i want to sing like that, so insane and uninhibited, such an eerie inhuman sound. i cant tell whether i truly thrive on people thinking im insane, or not.

and often i delight in the fact that i really dont care whether you believe me or not, its like a feeling of strawberries and cream. i realize a lot of the things i say sound so personally meant against you, but its not. its just by virtue of how we're so different, independently, in a system where there are no rights and wrongs.

2003-10-12T09:56:00.000-07:00

i just realized that the ad on top of my blog says related searches: antisocial personality disorder.

i think i must be stressed without realizing it, because im laughing at every little thing today, and eating myself insane.

2003-10-12T09:31:00.000-07:00

jo: sometimes you're looking out, but most of the time you're looking in.

hi jo :)

2003-10-12T09:21:00.000-07:00

do i sound intoxicated?

2003-10-12T09:17:00.000-07:00

i feel like ive been crossing my eyes to somehow see in a different way and they've gotten stuck there.
the idea of her religiously drinking four different kinds of alcohol before she sits down to paint and write her disturbing poetry just amuses the hell out of me, even more than her idea that i have the same rituals.
old people have beautiful eyes, even when they're standing in the middle of the road, trying to hail a cab not knowing where they're going. she had those beautiful, scared open eyes, fringed with opal blue. she spoke a language i didnt understand, so i hailed a cab for her and made her stand on the curb instead of in the middle of sixth avenue. the taxi driver said he'd try, after his two buay sai's i suppose he felt kind that i didnt know who she was, and while all this happened i watched my bus come and go without me on it.
i like receiving mail, and long wordy emails that i can reply to.
i hate it when you try to force this on me. what is it to you how i learn to appreciate things, exactly? what does it matter to you whether i find things beautiful or not? i like to be sensated, im not half as intellectual as you, i hate the thought of how i am just like you and every single trait that i detest.
strangers are still fascinating.
i talked to christl and xinyi today, and i shall go nosey for zixi tomorrow. miss my teamates and my juniors, i really feel like crying when i think about huiqi leaving for rg.
we walked past that hossan guy that day, he was all dolled up and gaudy, and he sat there looking so determined and placcid and zoned out and nothing in particular at all. it made me wonder in all sorts of different colours, what he thinks of when he dresses for a day out of town, what was running thru his head while he stared at the floor as we filed past. his makeup was thick and brown, purple, he crossed one leg over the other, the look on his face was so afraid.
the picture on gab's livejournal made me think of curly-haired darren and his backward-turned baseball cap, and his ever flushed apple cheeks. and how if i could talk to you today you'd probably be some bball streetkid, smoking and porno, probably having shaven off your adorable curls the one thing i liked the best about you.
i ate part of a meatball off sam's plate. but i spent five minutes weeding chicken out of my macaroni. i like the little boys who peer at me out from corners and smile, who run back to their mothers when i smile back. he went jiejie reading and he looked so shy-adorable, he waved at me when i picked up my bag and left. and while idont particularly have the patience for children, i like how fascinated they become at every little thing.
there's a maths question of gerard's that i cant solve and its bugging the shit out of me.
hermit ella
i want to go back to yd, it takes so much self control to not judge her for being judgemental, trying not to self-righteously put down her self-righteousness, i feel so unclean standing next to you, often feel like slapping you for the things you say, though i deserve them, and i wonder how it is that we get to each other so much. if we could put ourselves into the same room for an hour without killing each other, we might have more to say.
i want to learn how to play the guitar. i want to adopt a beautiful child and teach her how disregard her own beauty, and find it haunting like a bolt on your leg.
i am so afraid of becoming like you, by the way, some day in my limited tomorrows, trying too hard like you, pretending to be okay like you, being so pathetic like you. because then i will remember this now when i looked at you and sneered, and refused to listen, and was so fundamentally judgemental, and i will kick my own ass all over the place for the knowledge of knowing this was coming.
they're speeding.

we shall eat a whole tub of venezia's tomorrow, and sam will want to push us off a cliff :)

2003-10-11T07:24:00.000-07:00

i am going to go for a week without sugar, and vegan.

2003-10-11T05:56:00.000-07:00

i liked a ~~man~~ boy with ash-blue hair. not sleek, just dusty, and not intoxicated.

i feel like standing atop a high building and letting the wind blow me off. i want to fly, more than i want to fly i want to dare to fly, i want to get out of this shitforsaken country, never really felt so so much until now. ma used to say i was well suited for this kind of society, i wanted so badly to tell her that just because i can do it doenst mean that i like it, want to tell her how i wanted to fly to somewhere less grey, where id be sensated at every little thing. and if i told her this now she'd say something along the lines of how places like that are always in strife, always broken and easily led astray. i want so badly to be with jaryl while he's hanging out at those sleepy accoustic cafes amongst those relentlessly laid back cups of coffee.

i like talking to cong in that kind of feel, while he's playing soccer and thinking about classical cute girls with their ridiculous boyfriends and their public displays of affection.

she says i haunt, like a mispoken name or mysterious reflection in the glass that you can only see out of the corner of your eye. i told her its just a trick of light.

i wonder how you could ever see me that way, you know. i thought i was bad and crazy enough. about five months down the road you wont be able to look back at this without turning your signature red.

the idea of getting streamed brings to mind ribbons running under screws and metal getting sliced at all different angles.

i saw a blind man on the bus, who nobody gave their seat up to, who stuttered as the bus began to move, whose hand i grasped and brought towards the railing. and i looked at him and thought about that touch of his hands all the way home, wondering what shade he sees the world in.

joyce wrote me an email that made me cry and wish she was still around.

by the way, its not consolation that however bad i get i'll never be as bad as you. you know? not for more than five seconds, anyway. and those five seconds always hail the ugliest sides of me i've ever seen. i would be lying to you or to myself if i said i was completely unaffected.

2003-10-10T10:40:00.000-07:00

am i going to die from your lead paint?

2003-10-10T10:27:00.000-07:00

i tell them im fifteen and they laugh. laugh their heads off and still ask of the truth. i dont even know why i said fifteen, anway, caught in a situation like that you'd think it'd be natural to lie. but you looked like interesting people, like it would bother you to find out the truth, like you werent just asking me for a light.

i cried four times during my lit paper, my words were smudged and i hope she wont notice. i inadvertly reached two steps closer to the centre of the universe today, and the experience stung my senses with the vision of a lonely little man in a green jacket, bespectacled and personal.

could i live, without obsessions, i really do wonder sometimes. when im clear headed enough to see myself from a top-view, and i wish i could be like that all the time, so untwisted, to have someone hanging off my back to tell me not to think so much. i would like to be staid, and simple-minded enough to be gloriously complacent.

and nothing, nothing, nothing in the world beats live music. they played casablanca, and rain, and hotel california, i could have died on the spot on recognizing the introduction, trying so hard not to squeal like the schoolgirl i was even then. he sang with a raspy asian twang that i grew to like after a while, because it was just so personal and our culture, something so un-western and integral. and i always wish wish wish my voice werent so weak and frail and full of wind, i want the voices of people like alanis morisette, like shirley manson, like cheryl crow, before all three of them sold out with their pop albums. the guitar was mediocre for performers of that standard, takable, changable, still so intoxicating when coupled with the bass, the drums, the sheer volume i suppose. i had the best half hour at the esplanade library reading rock-slease magazines, sam is bowled over by the explicitness, i want to go back there every week to read, to talk to the person who took those magazines off the shelf and left them on the table where we found them. and i would like to play an instrument well, how i would like to drown myself in indie-rock and alternative, in foreign films and dislocated literature.

i wish someone would grow me like that, wish i knew more people who shared my obsession with classic soft rock and the like. i dont even know actual names for it, coz things are just so alien to me, even though what fleeting brushes i have with it leave me out cold and fascinated for days. i wished today that i lived in a less monotonous country, i want the shirt that says censorship__off, free speech__on. i like having shaoning around because she tells me about her aep, and i am fascinated as i always am, regretful as i always am, bitter as i always am. but so intrigued, so so so intrigued and envious, i am too idealistic for my own damn good.

and i pissed him off today, never felt so good flying to the moon.

2003-10-09T09:47:00.000-07:00

and i wasnt lying when i said im obsessed with rock bands from the 80's, and beyond. that's how it spilled into my essay, the names rolling off my tongue and onto paper. i dont know how i wrote that, or why, what the shit i was thinking. i pick you apart like dreams, so afraid of what you might some day tell me.

and i wish youd be this real to be and this honest, all of the time, but then i know neither of us would be able to take it. while we're laughing at each other good naturedly, while we talk about these things like they were the weather, while we kiss out of pure boredom. honesty? oh please, this was exactly the world i asked for, in idealism, in insanity, in-fused with nicotine and alcohol, at least i knew how it would hurt from a long time ago, and maybe i could get used to this bruising. that's what they did to me, you know, with their scratched-up tones and textures, i suppose they're the ones who shaped my perception of beauty, you know if they hadnt touched that part of me it would be so easier to put them into a box and shove it under my bed.

min says that on my blog i sound awfully intoxicated, far away from what i sound like in real life.

and shaoning was nice to me today.

2003-10-08T08:40:00.000-07:00

eoys are more than half over, i decided to sacrifice chem, too bad i didnt think of this earlier, resort to such maddening decisions.

we'll be the toy soldiers.

and screw you, in advance, just coz i know what goes from here and the idea of it makes me sick, because i dont want things to be any old shit and soon it'll be my fault it'll be my fault and though you can pick things up and put them down just like that i cant i wont ever be able to do that and i know that doesnt matter to you so screwall what does it matter to me whether you smoke or not? whether you lie or not? whether you're sane or not?

2003-10-06T10:01:00.000-07:00

oh, and sorry, because id wanted to apologize to you tonight, but then i came home to shit and it kind of took second place. but well sorry, anyway, while i'll do this another time, call you up or something i never do. and i wondered what it felt like for you to be trying so hard to hint these things, how i ignored them as i always do, if you knew me well enough you'd just be sure of what id say, dont you? coz if you dont know that side of me by now, i dont know who does.

2003-10-06T09:52:00.000-07:00

and we can scream and shout, and go insane, da will be the only one to keep his head, while she totters around at night crying for home. he will keep the bag of garbage just for me, they will hold their reverence while i play broken chords and let my tears splatter on the two-toned keys. mother, did i hurt you with what i said? his quiet understanding moved me to tears again, how he understood my sentiment, in a way that she never could.

and just one of these days id like to do something about these red puffy eyes.

2003-10-05T09:57:00.000-07:00

julia says: (ella the addict, in more ways than one)

more ways than alot, actually.

2003-10-05T09:45:00.000-07:00

and how i would like to tell you that it was all so accidental, that whole existence was accidental, and that people are still people, whatever they seem. do you believe me? would you ever believe me? im ten times as bad as you and here i am trying to make you understand.

2003-10-05T09:28:00.000-07:00

aiyee bought me middlesex today, by jeffrey eugenides, and i read the back cover and the first two pages and wanted to STUFF HISTORY.

they had another spastic party at macs, and i could see edwin and julian dancing in my mind's eye. and sam, her face turning red, trying, laughing, having the time of her life, a day we would talk about months and months down the road. and me, i would pretend that i didnt really really want to dance, trying not to let it show, trying not to be someone who could be easily put down, how i dont talk about direct memories like that. every time jinhua messages me i think about chinpeng, his cold warmth sitting next to me, and the bowling alley, his hopefulness, his hard brittle dejection.

when joyce does this to me as she's done ever since the beginning of the year, i just dont care anymore, and i realize how irritating i used to be, how badly i wronged you and i think about how insane you must have been to have tolerated me. banging your head against a wall to draw blood, did you really give that much of a shit, or were you just bored?

if you asked me, id maybe give you the url of my alternate publication, one of many of something im not that proud of, but you had to swear not to give it to others, and to tell me the truth. im not so closed minded, i would like to admit, though i am mostly checkered blacks and white. because honestly, as long as you're human and human to me, you'd be able to say something that i could find intruiging.

(sometimes im so ambiguous i dont even know what im talking about myself)

i feel evil to you, and i wonder why i scare you. well maybe id scare me, too, i guess i cant think so. some days i wonder what its like not to be a freak, some days i really know, for short whiles, if nothing at all, and i think about primary school and how amanda told sharon i was so popular when really all i felt was far away from maro, and things like that. always, always maro, just because i liked her, the two way obsessions, my unwillingness to believe that she was just trivial with popular. and i hate the word popular still do, but i do love cheerleading and i was fond of maro. and then we lost contact and i found out how she became one of those typical girls again, how fooled i was, but how i wondered if id ever really believed. and then her, some days i wonder if i could ever hope to be beautiful like her, how i hold my breath every time i think about her, her world, how things would be different there. i wonder if im too hopeful. somebody asked me yesterday if id trade being broken and being beautiful, as in a associative deliberate thing, i didnt know how to say that i wasnt beautiful without sounding condescending. because i know wihtout knowing so many people who take my breath away, i know that beauty is nothing but a perception, i know i believe things that are just so different from them. oh, and i wonder what its like to not be obsessed with beauty, consciously or unconsciously. and i want to forget what its like to be loud and pretentious, and never think about that feeling again.

i would to learn how to breathe around you, and not see the world in violent monochrome all the time.

2003-10-04T11:10:00.000-07:00

and you really scared me, today, with that message, coz im so afaid of my lack of self-control, coupled with your headstrong recklessness, how insane and wrong this could go. im too fond of you to see you in that way, i know, but then, you also remind me too much of him. and id miss that, if i let myself have the chance, did you know?

i would like more songs like that, where lyrics are poetry and part of the song, where you wouldn't dare to rhyme blue with you and heart-ache with break unless you had a gun to your temple.

i suppose im the sort of person who would name my kid after a song, or a romantic city with cracked walls.

2003-10-04T11:02:00.000-07:00

and i cried more than eight times today, thinking about what da said in the morning, blowing it off, asking me whether i wanted soft rock or country music, how you wont have the mood to watch the musical even though you fall in love with these things every time you think of them. how you always laugh when you're afraid, da you know that scared me more than anything? the idea, that im not ready to live without my mother, how you might die of a broken heart if she were gone. do you know? do you know how chinese i felt, lacing my fingers through her gold chain that night, the one she keeps in the safe, while she told me of how all of them had come to be? how i forgot that i was a rabbit and not a true dragon, and squealed at the first sighting of a dragon pendant, when she laughed and said that was hers and not mine. you know the grape pendant, the one that ah ma gave her, that she told me how she wore to the swimming pool and lost the diamonds? and when she asked me if i wanted it, and i twirled it around on my fingers, i told her i dont wear these things but i just like owning them, do you know that? i just like owning these beautiful things do you know how different my prose and my literature is from gail's, how she can't write anything personal, and how that's the only thing i can do? how you leaked into my exam essay, da, but i couldnt sustain it, and id wanted to tear the thing to shreds just because it had your name on it. you are music, da, you're like a diamond that's turned to stone, covered in so many layers, so many secrets, so many tragedies, so unready to die at fifty 52 years old. and i know you dont, da, though you pretend to be okay, i know you're afraid of the same things as us diseased weaklings, i know you're not immune, do you know that im just like you da, do you know that's what you gave me? other than a blue cross and a love for humanities. other than that reindeer pendant you brought from switzerland, the flowers from the market you've given me, the times you've made me angry and sad and you make me worry so much da you always laugh when you're afraid. and i dont want to think of what your life's been like, da, dont want to think about my name, think about your brother, think about michael and how he doesnt understand. you're like piano chords that have been fragmented and patched so badly, the way they seem to go astray, the way you realize that they're just accompaniment and that they've been there forever. and sometimes when people tell me that im smart, i want to tell them that im nuts, compared to you. but da that also goes with everything, you know? if we were our afflictions id be joining you.

and everytime i feel broken like this i just wonder how you grew up, and how you were a story, had a story, once upon a time. the pictures of ma when she was around my age, how damn much michelle looks like her, and how i look so much like you. like the picture on my grandmother's tombstone. and i think till i cry and read centre of the universe time and time again it doesnt matter to me how many a's and smiley faces choo draws on my script, at the end of the day it was a feeling spun into words and i fell in love with it because i didnt know how to do it, i dont care how many people tell me how i did a good job on it, everytime i read my report something is always missing. da i know you wanted to shelter me from everything you had, how you buy so much food coz you remember what it was like to starve once, i choke on oxygen when i think of you. how did things go so fast for you? for me? im fifteen, its been a while, people are already calling me tragic im wondering what the shit do they know? what the heck do i know? nothing, da, when you get down to it, but i know you'd have wanted to be different, i remember forcing lucas to think of death when he was ten and i was a year younger. da what did you spill over into me, exactly, was it the music that you gave me? how you intoxicated yourself with it, how it invaded my walls and my sister whom i adored and my brother whom i admired and everything that's ever matter to me in my life? do you know that, da, that you grew me like an evergreen in a pot and now i dont think i could take being without this darklight?

and da, why do you always have to laugh when you're afraid.

2003-10-03T09:23:00.000-07:00

and i laugh at you, everyday

so malicious my contempt

there's not point in saying im sorry.

2003-10-03T09:19:00.001-07:00

i want you to know that they dont bother me anymore, and it's always been you. at least when you were around, and things like that.

i prayed today, for swift doctor's hands, and a resignation to whatever fate will come to pass

why do you want to talk to me, then run away? this mindless hide and seek, when you're the one who hurts for real.

2003-10-03T09:19:00.000-07:00

i would write lyrics for the deranged, i would be a hippy gone so so wrong.
i wouldnt let anything you said get to me
i would try so hard to be good at denying
try harder to fit in, maybe.
i would be less volatile, and beautiful, only for a day.

i would be queer and not do you the courtesy of hiding it from your view, i'd tell you that i didnt care what you think. (and i dont, my dear, because you're twisted in your spineless own way too)

and if i had the voice for it, i would sing the twisted, neurotic songs like that.

2003-10-02T09:01:00.000-07:00

exams haven't sunk in yet, by the way. feels like an out of body experience, where my mind is floating somewhere near the ceiling, screaming at me to go and study, or look at the compo handouts for tomorrow, or even just think about compo points and stuff like that. feels like competition last year, queerly unworried, so detached and insane, so damn zen.

i am going to starve to buy jagged little pill.

2003-09-30T09:28:00.000-07:00

The Big Five Personality Test

Extroverted	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	56%
Introverted	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	44%
Friendly	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	68%
Aggressive	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	32%
Orderly	\|\|\|\|\|\|	28%
Disorderly	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	72%
Relaxed	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Emotional	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	64%
Intellectual	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	70%
Practical	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%

Take Free Big 5 Personality Test

i would like to sleep the day away, and own something that wouldn't die out on me.

2003-09-29T08:52:00.000-07:00

i fell in love with the prose today, that i could feel, but couldnt word, the light shattering on your scales and teeth.

and he will sing that song to me, in that cool, crazy, gentle voice. he will say nothing, nothing at all, my always-shining star. we will shoot the colour out of the sky, and colour our senses with the blues and greys. you were spurned and tangled in my sky, like my namesake, for some reason always the colour before midnight.

do you recall that poem you wrote for me, a long time ago? the four lined one, the ten-minute one.

some times i feel like im a small little girl in a pink frock, picking at worn off friendship bands on my wrists. and that you do the things you do for policy, to amuse me, that i amuse you, while you remind me to watch friends in that after-thought kind of way, or send me songs i love, or tell me things that a girl shouldnt have to know. you are but that kind of subtle sweetnes, if you never needed me before, you'd fade to shadow just like the rest just like the rest.

this light won't keep you.

2003-09-28T10:25:00.000-07:00

my beautiful subway angel, that i cant find a place for. i am thinking about weicong and his brother's songs. i'd kill for a library of that kind of genre.

jy rocketh :)

things that work for me while studying
-placebo
-coffee cafes
-you in the back of my mind
-my nike jacket
-messaging random silly people every now and then. people like ian and team-mates.
-walks every few hours
-3-buck mint tea
-thinking about eating chocolate eclairs
-walk on by
-hyphens, and Not Sponging
-extra chairs

aside from baker's inn, which was really good, so much so that i wouldnt even call it overpriced.

(we'd dream of honest people, and think it were so much better over here. we'd never ever get close enough to see it for what it's worth, the hypocriscy and the soft selfishness. )

but they all hypocrites, on this side, you and me. we've already overtaken you, when it comes to that blitz of decadence.

2003-09-27T10:16:00.000-07:00

coz nothing lasts forever,
even cold november rain.

2003-09-27T10:10:00.000-07:00

You're Most Like The Season Winter ...

You're often depicted as the cold, distant season.
But you're incredibly intelligent, mature and
Independant. You have an air of power around
you - and that can sometimes scare people off.
You're complex, and get hurt easily - so you
rarely let people in if you can help it. You
can be somewhat of a loner, but just as easily
you could be the leader of many. You Tend to be
negative, and hard to relate to, but you give
off a relaxed image despite being insecure -
and secretly many people long to be like you,
not knowing how deep the Winter season really
is.

Well done... You're the most inspirational of
seasons :)

?? Which Season Are You ??
brought to you by Quizilla
well done? drop dead.

and i wonder whether gail really means it when she says she thinks im good enough, that's a scary thought you know, when all i feel is my own incompetence. so many things to regret, so many things made irrelevant, sam's german trip. i'd like to know what i have to stop being afraid of anymore.

placebo, today, pure morning. and our bags are all still trapped in the esplanade library.

and where's he right now, when i feel like screaming frustrated incorporated and its shitsticks that i cant even scream properly because my voice is so airy. my favourite three notes on the piano, the introduction to never grow old, my badly wanting a gunsnroses compilation.

i missed you. did you know that? i dont own you, so i just hope you're happy. i dont wish for you anymore.

you come and talk to me every time you dont know you're upset, did you know that? you do things to distract yourself like playing these stupid games, and you're never like that when you're not calling me up at three am to ask me stupid questions. just like how cong understands me when im like that, but he cant take it, working on a subtle vessel.

i wanted to fly away again today.

2003-09-26T11:11:00.000-07:00

she says we will hitch a ride to timbucktoo, together. to find some existence where we can be what we were best, maybe we'd smoke pot all day and not be ashamed. she can scratch her sheet music onto animal skins, and i will try to put them to lyrical words. she says something about the underdogs, and how that's what we'll always be proud to be, fuck the free world. she'll invent psychadelia again, there'll be a civilization there already since people are always referring to timbucktoo anyway. the popular choice are those funky caves, i suppose, so we'd sleep on trees at night, just coz we couldnt afford the rent. we wouldnt be stuck in a rut anymore, we'd be somewhere free and anarchist.

the strangers are the only ones who make sense, some times.

2003-09-26T10:54:00.000-07:00

four things that got to me today
-wishing it were like before, then kicking that thought in the ass, just because. i dont own you, or even my memories, and im not allowed to give that kind of shit anymore.
-playing six variations of foolish games with different fragments of chords, hating this broken-up sentiment, though it cleared after a while and i could see straight again. i felt like asking her if she's only beautiful when she'd upset.
-realizing today that you never believed me then when i told you it was a game to them. it was, it is, they play it still. and if everyone was as nice as you have faith in them to be, the world would be such a beautiful place, you know? or maybe it's just me, walking around in my father's genes, unlucky enough to get the scum of the earth, just because i could relate.
-gab blowing up for me for a careless what would you call it anyway? a dig? trying to be as bloody diplomatic as i can though pissed now with the day i had and i'll admit that i do what you say to some people, but i sure as heck try not to and i sure as heck dont do it to you and i realllllly hope you're not gonna take this personally. i contradict myself between seconds and i know that, i know you wont imagine what its like but dont take whatever it is so emotional personally will you. without any malice and since you hate it when people talk behind your back i TELL you that i HAVE to be diplomatic because people always take offence to these things when their pride's been hurt or whatever, dont read me that way, touchy or whatever dont blow my guts out this time for my honesty. whether you perceived it so or not i dont have anything against you, and i'd like to keep it that way, i dont see a point in fighting this system.

and damn everything i do is with a slant, i write here what i write to myself, it's shitted enough trying to figure myself out without you reading into me like a stained-glass window. i am never in my waking hours what i write here, i do things for my own reasons, i build my own castles and i actually live in them, i mean and believe the shit i say. i mean what i do by screwed up, by calling myself a bitch, by the realization that something is bloody wrong with me, in all sincerity good for you for being you but i cant be like you. so dont mind me and dont believe, because i'd like to unscrew myself up in my own time in my own style.

2003-09-25T08:19:00.000-07:00

ma is sweet, just so awful sweet. and you can tell she likes being that way, she's just such a mild caring person, the mother that tries to freeze jelly for me so i can bring it to school just because i gave it a second glance the day before. it's so funny, really, and it makes me giggle while trying to work that darn washing machine. even though i had to throw away the said jelly, coz it was literal frozen solid and not in the least bit edible any-more.

and ma i hope i inherited your simple sweetnes, your ability to derive this un-branded happiness from these small things of your day. you're really such an easy person to get along with.

2003-09-24T08:59:00.000-07:00

(you oughta know that its the same with you)

the security guard who sits by the gate every time im rummaging around in my locker for shoes said hi to me today. it put me into one of those lets-go-hug-the-world moods, and i smiled at everyone i passed by when i was running.

sarah smith asked me if my family was dysfunctional today, and i thought about what khin once said about her being a chameleon. and i believe there's more to people like this, when you take away the noise and distractions that at the end of the day dont mean a thing.

bout the said dysfunctional, my family isnt, and i love them in a quiet way. there was a time where i abhorred the typicality of things healthy, and i hurled myself headfirst into a world that broke all my bones, and the strangest thing is how now i dont even fully regret all that. if i were too comfortable, too enclosed, too sheltered, i might melt under the first rays of the sun. it's like what gab once said unmetaphorically, about how the dirtier the water you're used to, the stronger your body is. and i was never concerned with healthy or correct, then, it was the attraction i found in all things decadent, how tough and strong the spirits i encountered, the rawness of that world that is hard to imagine any more.

and i've always been obsessed with beauty, just for the record, whether i'll admit it or not.

he told me today that he cant imagine that i cry. because of what i did to what's-his-face, how i didnt flinch, how i didnt care. i dont know how to tell you that i dont care about these things, that im weary of little boys as of a long time ago, i just dont play your games anymore. but you know, there are bigger and bleaker things to cry about, anyway.

and i've missed marian, too.

2003-09-23T09:55:00.000-07:00

i captured a day in a bottle, capped its top so it wouldnt float away. it was tangy and sweet, like an orange slice dipped in artificial sugar. trailing its cool warmth, it flitted the edges of its glossy universe, a spray of the breeze, leaving gold shimmer. it danced around a ring of enchanted mushrooms unabashed, caught in discovery of beauty once mythical, they were chidren lost in a magical wood. it seeped their innocence into the night-air breath, where it caught the to cool fire and was felt for far and wide.

villagers and olden folk would hear the song from far off, and dream of stories to tell, of faries who lived just over the hills.

(this was a day i'd have liked to keep close, in a locket around my neck.)

2003-09-22T08:39:00.000-07:00

things i would like to do
-cycle 5k in the rain
-the subtlety
-sit in a familiar old playground
-spend a rainy day at home with a book
-spend an entire day at an art museum
-spend another at amatuer art galleries
-watch a specific couple of musicals
-lose myself to something beautiful
-backpack around europe with someone who can appreciate it the way i do.
-watch a specific couple of musicals
-lose myself to a sound
-lose to him at chess, again.
-find my faith, again? not calling out to empty walls
-talk to people who are intelligently politically not-so-correct.
-wallpaper my room with pieces of skin. and lip-shade

when i tell someone new about my url, i clear my mind, take on yours, and read my own blog from what i imagine would be your feel. i never know what i'd think, if i were you. sometimes i wonder who the hell reads this, arent you just scared off by the length?

michelle fong showed me a video that made me cry. and my eyes and cheeks sting, and i think it makes me think, about hurting, and what its always been.

2003-09-22T07:20:00.000-07:00

let us take scores, about who's a better person.
let us throw tantrums and heck-all the people who care.
let us threaten each other with physical violence, and not feel sorry about the hurt we inflict, with the merest of intent ( bruises i can take )
let us take our honesty, and shove it down each other's throats. as truth, as goespel, as the final hour of judgement day.

we're such a fine fucking family.

2003-09-21T09:59:00.000-07:00

in passages like these, i realize i am just like you. i can change, chaemeleon style, for short periods of time. i dont have to like it a single bit. just coz i am drawn to that sort of feel, where things are broken but hardened, where people are strong and weakness is not forgiven, where Nothing Really Matters, just survival, just oxygen, just dragging and beer. i'd be okay with being fake then, coz that's just not fake, that's just survival, that's as low as it gets and we do what we can for a few seconds of escape. and such an irony too, wanting to escape from here, to go to that Wherever, to fade into that brittle concrete and dream of how its like to be right here.

lets fly off together, and not be sentimental.

2003-09-20T11:04:00.000-07:00

and my best friends are strangers who hide behind screens. the only thing that lets me know you're there is a sort of silhouette, movement faint, dust particles. and there are few, the few of you, who are so so beautiful, powerdered milk, unabashed. i have absolutely nothing to hide from you, and you from me, and you have no idea how good that makes me feel.

i would like more strangers to talk to. people with their feet on the ground, but their whole body too, why unecessarily fight the system, do you care enough? quiet people or ones who dont care, on this side of the ocean, not like You. You just suck, right now, sorry to be a bitch about this. i dont even mean that personally, do you believe me? i dont feel the need to explain anything to you anymore. silent to the dark and tepid, again, this is a style i want, this is an existence im after, this is the only kind of oxygen that my body doesnt have any issues with. i hate the world and i always have, i wont fight against it, but i dont have to like it, i remember telling you that once, maybe more than once. you never understood that i believed every word of what i said. and people change, viewpoints and perceptions shift, it's evolution, i have no energy to put something up for you now. i like the people like them, they just dont care so much, so upset, pretending not to care about being alone. i want to sprawl on a couch with you talking about un-nothing's, eat ice cream with you at a street vendor, Just Not Care, about all those things that other people busy themselves with, We Care About Some Things Else. you're beautiful, and i forgive you; because i've never thought it possible to be that beautiful. small cost it pays to be alone, you can do anything you want, it doesnt matter. you sound tired, at this, at the world, like me. would it hurt to prop up a chair beside you?

four dollar spagetti with cream, caesar salad and a slap in the face.

2003-09-19T09:53:00.000-07:00

mug. drink, drag a few, i know im stressed when i start doing things like this. oh, and eating like its going extinct. all this intertwined with mugging, like swigging in my room over chinese assessment books, stocking up food in class so that i can stay up during recess and mug some more. talk about the ironically braindead, study like its going out of style. toilet break in between mugsessions, to sneak away to a windy place and drag. i should stop carrying them around, really, i should eat chicken mayo sandwiches every day, carry around a bottle of pure apple vinegar, listen to red hot chilli peppers and tori amos all day. i really ought to stop, stressed or not, hate this word or not, excuses or not, rasberry esprit or not.

exhaustible birds-nest not in-a-can .

2003-09-18T08:45:00.000-07:00

i am too twisted, for you.

and im sorry.

2003-09-18T08:39:00.000-07:00

im not the sort of person to ask, i just never do and i dont know why, if i did i suppose you'd find it strange, too, perhaps i dont ever see the need because i wont ever allow myself to turn into one of those people who i talk about, my mind associates everything so much so that i couldnt listen to my favourite song if it were tainted like that. coz i know i'll survive if i i let you fade away, survive, probably sulk, probably let everything get to me, probably break myself down. but survive. and survival is king.

i wasnt trying to be vicious, last now, the pause before she spoke made me imagine she'd never say that about someone else and mean it. i make generic comments like those, they're never like they take them so personally.

i put everything into a form that can be beautiful, illogical, and i betray you in my portrayal. though i dont have to believe in it, andi usually dont, in my waking hours.

you can't seem to forget me, clinging on to this memory, the association with her. and sometimes i wonder if it's two way, the way i dont delete your number off my phone and your name off my msn list, just because it gives me this ludicriuos security, of having one of you around.

she is so beautiful, just by breathing. and i try to guess, whether its real or fake, something i've done before. i only make sense now.

i could get so so lost in the sound.

2003-09-18T08:12:00.000-07:00

a kid came showed up in my garden today, a Real Live (seven-year-old) Casanova. tall for a kid his age, wide eyed bright skinned, and da told me to occupy him while he talked to the father. he pushed me on the swing, moved stuff i knocked into out of the way, the most gallant seven year old i've ever seen, and the most obsessed with me that it's nothing short of amusing. he requested for me to escort him back to his house (about twenty of my steps, thirty of his away), invited me in to the shock of his mother who sat by the step waiting for the men of the house to come home. he offered me everything, a drink, a seat, wine; showed me his toys and his pictures, his mother and i exchanged amused glances where he couldnt see them. he would tell me about his multitude of girlfriends, showing off to me as kids do, i sat on the couch with him and talked as he talked, as his mother (on his orders) bustled around to find things of his to amuse me, turning my phone over and over in my hands and praying that it would ring, or something, to get me out of there. he'd wanted to walk me back to his house but for objections from his parents, of who would send him back (since he's not allowed to cross that 3m road between our houses by himself)? i was with that kid for, an hour? and all evening i've been amused by the nature of seven year old obsessions.

the world sucks, and i will have no part of it. i will sit here in my happy little corner and laugh at you all tottering around trying to make sense of it. im happy, that's all i need, my reality. how luckier off than me are you, with your flashy cars and your money, and your paranoia, and your hyperjealousies, your reality that makes you cry. i'd rather befriend reality, have a drink or two with it, comfortable, as long as im happy, as long as im contented. maybe you'll never know what im talking about, huh?
-wednesday, august 20th 2003

and a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, and, even in accordance to your theory, what is knowledge (root word, "know", something you've been throwing at me all night) anyway? how cold is the comfort of your "knowledge" in a time of emotion, in your mind do you see a distinction between "knowledge" and "wisdom"? and at the end of the day, we can deny it but we're human, inside and out, this language is human-coined, these terms dont mean a thing to the world outside of us, at the end of the day, doubt itself is also doubtable, everything is artificial because our senses are artificial, at the end of the day, if you really want to "know" something (and what's "know" to the world before us, anyway?), you ought to just sit tight and shut up, or sign yourself into a mental assylum, because in all honesty, its a growing trend isnt it, all that logic will drive you insane.

choose, my dear, what you will. but at the end of the day, nobody save for the ignorant is stupid (which is probably why they include these things in syllabes, anyway), and the sooner you realize that, the better.

2003-09-15T08:52:00.000-07:00

i love joey, ~~i loathe more people with the name rachel than i can count on one hand.~~

oh yes, cute and bubbly, eeks. heeh. cute is still a retarded word, and i miss those sec one days :(

random mildy funny from the ickle acsian, as he refers to himself.

while you're not really alone, and you dont have to be, i guess everyone goes through times like that, tries to hide it, tries to cure it, clutches at straws. i remember feeling little, lost.

i would like your honesty, in exchange for mine. how long will you still want me to want you?

2003-09-14T08:26:00.000-07:00

and yes i remember louis, and jackie. and for some reason, maybe because he wasnt as bubbly-nice, i liked jackie more.

i wanna work coffee bean.

2003-09-14T08:25:00.000-07:00

Mon Feb 17, 10:22:37 PM | ella . |
you know i half wish it were exam period again? so that i could just bury myself in books and studystudystudy all day like last year that kinda thing go esplanade sit there all day mugmugmugmugmug then go out and sit by the water. leaves no space for thought you know? which doesnt have to be a bad thing.
and right now i wonder what the hell it was that i was thinking. maybe the esplanade was beautiful, and i liked it, forgave it, as i seem to all things beautiful.

i am going to be mind-bogglingly guai for the next three weeks. the kinda guai that will make gail and xinyi call me crazy, the kinda guai that means i dont know anybody anymore, guai enough to maybe stop talking to weicong until after finals. i talk to the sec fours and i really want to run down the streets screaming. Plug My Head Up With Something, Please. does anybody want to go crazy with me? i really intend to, this time.

when i screamed over the phone into ding's ear last now he took it rather well. said he might not talk to me until after my finals, he doesnt seem to give shits about his own. so what are you going to do to relieve this erm stress? IdontKNOWmyDEARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. three weeks to go and im going in-sane. i will probably snap at people, a lot. sleepy kfc and christl. i want to watch once upon a time in mexico, because antonio-wads-his-face is in it, and right now i could sure use some serious gun toting action.

why the ring, the symbolism of it all doesnt exactly make it intarnishable. i have a ring in the only drawer of my room that i bother to lock, and it still looks as new as it did the day i got it. but when i stumbled upon julian's ring a few weeks back at the bottom of my bed, literal years younger than the one in my drawer, it was dusty, tarnished, and not completely round, anymore.

everything's going to be like that, my dear, nature doesnt really care about your feelings.

at the end of the day i know you dont really trust us enough to be completely honest, and i guess i can be okay with that.

Wind

The Force of Nature Quiz
brought to you by Quizilla

Burn baby Burn... You enjoy setting things on fire,
watching things turn to ash, somehow soothes
you...Once could safely call you a pyromaniac

how do you deal with your emotions?
brought to you by Quizilla
fire is beautiful but that's it.

i shall run a few hundred rounds tomorrow, and piss my juniors off the day after.

he tells me to sleep, dearie i wonder if you know how much stress you're giving me. i hate the word stress. on usual days nothing stresses me, on days like today everything does. i really dont want to have to think about you now, especially now, though honestly even on Everydays i wouldnt like to think of what you ask of me. i wonder how objective i am, on days like this.

well you are beautiful, though.

2003-09-13T09:49:00.000-07:00

cong called me special today, i have a hyphen in my name. :)

daddy is home, and i've missed him. and he gave me things that he sees in me, an art book, a blue cross pendant, a silk penchant with an artsy logo. and when people give you things to show they care i know it's supposed to be less real than what it could be, but i always get the feeling that this is the only way my daddy knows how to care for me, because im so sharp tongued and just like him, really. the same reason i dont pen corny letters, the same way i can only bring myself to let him know i miss him when it's over the phone.

i liked the feel of the empty stage behind the curtains, with the soft glow of the lights and the muffled buzz of the crowd. i did a few cartwheels across the stage, surprised that i still remember how, before sheueying chased me back off into the wings. they told buaya stories about gareth today, i told him he asks for it. and i think the people who enjoyed chv the most were the people performing, it was fun being backstage, ding asks me why i seem to make it a point to approach everything with a bad attitude, i tell him this is something i've done since i was young, just because everytime i look forward to something it WILL come out like shit, and everytime i dread an event i'll have the time of my life. murphy's law, or my storyteller fate, or reverse psychology, i dont even care anymore, it works for me and im happy. lois said my playing is really good, but i know people are just obliged to say that when they happen to be around when i play. i've fallen in love with the audi grandpiano, when my piano rings like that ma tells me that it needs to be tuned again, i always get mad and ask her what does she know? i always wonder what lois is thinking, just coz of the way she is. as well as when she broke down in class and i comforted her with shaoning in the toilet, i know what its like to feel like that. and she gives me the feeling she feels it all the time, even if she's not thinking about it. it radiates from her pores like warmth, like scent. she cringes like she betrays herself in agreeing with me, i know she does it because she doesnt want a conflict. and i wonder if people can see it too, if she can see it, knows that it's there. sometimes the vibes dont mean a thing.

gareth asked for it, still asks for it. stupid little boys, please go marry the juniors. ok well vanessa told me we're not all like that, and i believed her, coz she's nice, she sings along to time after time with me and she gets to wear them funky earphones :)

Which Pirates of the Caribbean character are you?
this rocked and i want to watch it again :D

You're a PANTSER! A pantser writes without
forethought to where the plot is going--sort of
by the seat of her pants method. Youre a free
spirited, creative person. You write with
passion about what inspires you at the moment,
and you probably have a strong voice. Dont
worry about writers block--youve a different
story. Youve got more story seeds than a hive
has bees. When you write, its in disjointed
segments. You may write sequentially or in
flashes of inspiration, where you connect all
your flashes later. People might say you
ramble a bit in your work. Your revision
process might take several passes, because you
really have to whip that first draft into a
more marketable shape. Youre novels either hit
it big or miss. Theres no in between. Readers
either love you, or hate you. Learn to channel
that creative energy into a masterpiece and
well be seeing your name on the NYT Lists!

Find Your Writing Personality!!
brought to you by Quizilla
i read the virgin suicides again, and thought about how gab said my prose sounded like jeffrey euginides.

if you talk to me for the first time in an hour's block, you'll realize that i dont give a shit about much.

i realise that people like you, people like Alot Of You, have no idea what it's like to look at issues from someone else's point of view. and i dont know how to explain this to you.

cheers, yinkae. at least you had a bear, at least i had a darkness to hide in. at the end of the day, we're all the same people.

i love that song.

2003-09-13T08:37:00.000-07:00

id like that alot. drive away from here, the wind on my face, old cheryl crow on the radio. maybe i'll drag a few, maybe i wont. maybe you'll have a face and a name, and id wrap my arms around you and let you whisk me away into the night, the cool, glorious night, away from these crowds and painted on smiles, somewhere i could breathe might be nice. a convertible, a motorcycle, you're not my knight in shining armour,- what were you, anyway? maybe that was you, on the radio, and you could reach me even at high speeds. you didnt really need a face and a name, you could just... live for me, or something. you dont even have to live, you could be the lighter in my back pocket, a skuff on my shoe, the tangles in my hair. i dont care, get me out of here. i know you wanted to, i know you cared.

you could have, you know, i would have let you.

2003-09-12T09:45:00.000-07:00

carolyn the junior said that if i hadnt talked to her today she would have thought i was "very dao". i think i am, very dao, anyway, not meaning to, but that's my nature, whatever. she likes my playing, i am mildly flattered, i miss the ring of my piano. i did two cartwheels across the empty stage, we sang along to time after time behind the curtain, we all love that song. and i liked those few moments of chv, doing props with the crew, untagling wire and cutting the teardrops, tying the mosquito net with uncle jack, playing the grand piano, skipping their dinner. nic gave me a red rose, i twirled it on my lap on the way home, the swing creaked because it was uneven. i dont hate you, i really dont, i just want to slap you every time you act like that. i watched the gep juniors at it again, it didnt bother me, i didnt care.

she asked me what i wanted again, today. asked me if id figured it out yet. she sat opposite me on the bus, looked straight into my eyes. its hard to avoid that kind of gaze. i cant waste you, anymore. she says im paranoid, i smile and tell her she's right. but so? so? not as if knowing it makes it go away, my dear. maybe just not this time.

can you tell if i care, really? coz im just so so good at this. even now, when i dont, i wonder if it sounds any different to you.

sam told julian i wished him a happy birthday. oohdear. hello you, havent talked to you for eons, that birthday wish wasnt exactly for you, but yeah, anyway. when i asked him his birthday and he told me 13th september i remember wanting to die. i was with him and marian on the train that day, the day he cried and i cried and blahblahblah. something you remembered forever. and i'd really wanted to die, do you believe in fate? that was the day i decided that someone must have decided to to have a laugh at my expense, to spin my life into a ironic storybook. i should be anotating, highlighting, marking out recurrent themes and motifs and symbols. im not what choo calls a themitizer, like aileen, good as she is she does that alot. im a classic romantic in the sense of the word, not in the opposite of platonic, everything that i want to be bohemian. and sometimes i wonder where this whole fate thing is, who i should go to if i feel like sticking a middle finger in someone's face. some days i do that, walk under a clear blue sky, then throw my head back and laugh like insane. im not insane, when i do those things. im just laughing at you, laughing at me. betray myself, trick myself, then it's like a glitch in the system, classic deja vu, do these coincidences get any better?

i suppose i just have too particular a memory.

2003-09-11T08:17:00.000-07:00

You're a Diamond. You seem like a cold and an
unreachable person outside, yet you are
beautiful inside and outside. You may be
stubborn at times. You act with grace and
elegance and you are a precious asset to all
your friends.

What Jewel Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

i broke the bar they were supposed to use for tomorrow's performance and ms lee wants to kill me.
i shopped like insane.
i am fond of cong's voice, awfully. the way he sounds exactly like he did two years ago. how's he's taller than me now, but still that stupid kid. i could hear his friends laughing in the background.
i have a pint of bailey's irish ice cream.
i laughed at a skirt that is worth $30 at and overpriced boutique i know, which had a pricetag that read $59.90. retail therapy, woohoo. :)
i am not doing enough work. last year when kuo told us a month wouldnt be enough to study i didnt believe him, and i got so shitted. mad laughing fits with sam the at coffee bean the night before science final, realizing we didnt understand a shit thing, derek rushing over trying to teach us, trying to calm us down. tomorrow is Boring Day, i am sorry i dont care enough about chv. Saturday is Packed Like Hell Day. i love shaoning, i am playing for yw on sunday. I Am Shitted. I Have Not Studied. ding says whenever i start talking like that it's a sign that im going into neurotic mode again. kevin should complain.

and happy birthday, for tomorrow. you evoke a lot of inexplicable and conflicting emotions in me. but happy birthday anyway. everybody's gotta have a birthday.

i recommend retail therapy. not that it takes away your problems, but well, endorphins. what an inane activity.

2003-09-10T10:23:00.000-07:00

i like che, from evita. that's the only thing i can do with history, really, twist it, give it a slant, turn it into literature, satire, mocking how stupid human beings are, just coz i really think so. people manipulating people, people brainwashing people, people pulling these things off so smoothly that only those who view it from the future realize that anything went on at all. and i really wish i could do filmatography. every crp/erp i itch to do the question about adapting books into film and soundtracks, but i'm always too lazy. i liked adaptation a lot.

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid:	Very High
Schizoid:	Moderate
Schizotypal:	High
Antisocial:	High
Borderline:	Moderate
Histrionic:	High
Narcissistic:	High
Avoidant:	High
Dependent:	High
Obsessive-Compulsive:	High
-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! --

you know i thought i was getting better?

and i badly want to watch pirates of the carribean. i feel so deflated.

dear you. hi. im sorry. for everything. yep. can you tell me what to say from here? actually from there, back there, right from the dear, was that appropriate? i suppose you're smart, i suppose i'm elitist. i have alot of suppositions. dont you know me by now, dont you know me at all? im obsessed with beauty, can you tell? not physical beauty, beauty beauty, i know a lot of people who cant make that distinction. hi, my dear, i read poetry for fun. im selfish and absurd, but i like playgrounds in the dead of the night. you sweat buckets and im not going to ask. on good days i wonder what the hell it is to you what im thinking. what i think. about you. about this. i've been the "oldest friend" to alot of people, i wonder what you're up to. she scribbled her number onto a paper and i let it blow out of the window. it was really a mistake, but then i could have tried harder to stop it. dont say words you're gonna regret, you know? coz im good at hiding it, and that probably just makes it hurt worse, longer, harder, for me. well at least i know i was right about you, like i know in the end im right about alot of things, but it doesnt stop it from hurting. have you ever heard of cold comfort, pork chops? i am upset, by things like these, i need a good book or a bullet. i know you'll never understand what im talking about, and im contemptuous of you for that, never mind that you have perfect days. you're too happy for me, and your entire existance has become trivial when i look down the lines.

do you have any idea what its like, to be like this? to take your worst day, and multiply it by seven times a week, four and a half weeks every month, three hundred and sixty five days in a year. i feel so deflated, and betrayed by myself, i have to stop hoping, so dont put me down for being a downer i've had pins stuck into me ever since i can remember.

i can sleep to dream.

2003-09-09T09:55:00.000-07:00

cong is sweet and sour. trips on himself trying to be nice.

2003-09-09T08:42:00.000-07:00

i just realized where the scar that borders on my mac's scar comes from, of all the scars to not have healed. there's something so awful sharp about the hangovers. and i would like to apologize to everyone who i pissed off today, by snapping or by glaring, blaming it on something in my blood that i have no name for. except mike, of course, because you hit my piano, and it didnt matter how hard you hit me but you hit my piano and i wanted to pick something up and swing it at you very very hard. instead i crawled out onto the porch and cried till i hicupped. i hate how you think i cant feel, like what, like it was only you? do what you want to do, let somebody else do damage control, i guess i know it doesnt really matter to you. and you wonder why you're screwed up.

My inner child is ten years old!

The adult world is pretty irrelevant to me. Whether
I'm off on my bicycle (or pony) exploring, lost
in a good book, or giggling with my best
friend, I live in a world apart, one full of
adventure and wonder and other stuff adults
don't understand.

How Old is Your Inner Child?
brought to you by Quizilla

timrice+andrewloydwebbers --> serious genius.

Neutron -- You don't take sides, you just sort of
hang out and blend into the crowd. If someone
lets you loose though, you can cause some
serious damage. If you are arround too many
other neutrons you get bored and start to
decay.

What kind of subatomic particle are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

yo, hypocrite. heads up, the world'l be ending in no time.

you must think i live for you.

2003-09-08T09:04:00.000-07:00

a stranger gave me a hug and told me to please be okay. dont let yourself go, coz everybody cries; everybody hurts sometimes. i told the stranger all my secret fears and beliefs, how i think i cry too much. how happy i was, how im hoping this is just pms. i chose between the curtain and the star, i know too well how you'd never have guessed.

stranger you just keep getting better every day.

2003-09-08T08:09:00.001-07:00

i want cong to come online, so i can whine and cry about how friends is ending. i really feel like crying. or kevin, coz i know he'll humour me.

ma i held that grudge against you all day, and im not sorry yet. in fact maybe i help it against you since sunday, when you gave me the money and i wouldnt look at you, i know you could feel the disdain. ie called during dinner and told me not to leave you alone anymore, how i ought to stay at home and take care of you, be with you, i know it scares you to be alone in the house. ma i dont know how long you stood there painstakingly doing these things for me, i know you can tell im still mad at you. im disgusted at you, and this takes the longest time for me to forgive. how can you be such a hypocrite, how does knowing it make it okay, you can justify it any way you want. one day i'll lose you ma, to age and time in death and distance, but ma you'll lose me first, do you know that? i can feel your pain to know im right here by your side yet so far away, i wont even look you in the eye anymore, i dont even acknowledge the things you do for me. im disgusted ma, i cant believe this is what you teach me. do as i say, not as i do, every time you do this it bothers me, do you know how much you affect me? when i feel so trapped by the you in my blood, i try to justify what you do to myself, i want da to come back and make it seem okay. how you protect him, it seems so noble, i try to forget my reasons for being angry. but how do i forget disgust, ma? im not just making noise for the sake of making noise, i want you to realize that im more like your husband than like you. i dont say things i dont mean, ma you were right those years ago when you said i would have a problem learning to be a person, but you were also right when you said that i was too darn smart for my own good. but reasons arent excuses ma, i want you to know that my pride isnt enough to keep this up. i just cant look at you, do you know that? can i learn to be more forgiving, ma? i have high expectations of everyone i know, higher expectations of myself. and i dont want to forgive you ma, i dont want to dilute these things which i cling on to.

he asked me why i was crying now, over what? nothing, really, i dont even know myself. i had a great day didnt i. you always call me when im crying, like you can read my mind. people stared at me, coz my eyes filled with tears when you said those things, then i closed my eyes and they spilled over and i couldnt breathe listening to the silence over the line. on good days you'll ask me are all girls like that? he asks the time of the month question in such a small timid voice it makes me laugh out loud even when my eyes are raining and giggle the rest of the journey home.

so i think of you when im listening to all these sad songs, bloody raging hormones. but thanks my dear, for always making the first move.

about the said good day, hung out with teamates again. xinyi's pool, getting stuffed at some restaurant, everyone rushing home to catch friends. i didnt make it, christl taped it for me.

i wish i could put that mood into a bottle and carry it along with me around my neck. i havent listened listened to garbage for an awful long time.

2003-09-08T08:09:00.000-07:00

my lover's charms, are in a box
beneath my bed
and piece by piece
i'll cherish them
until the end

send me an angel to love
need to feel a little piece of heaven
send me an angel to love
im afraid i'll never get to heaven

2003-09-07T11:59:00.000-07:00

you've got one of those faces. you sit there on the couch next to him and you look so pissed. you have a pissed-face. sulky face. he sits there looking all goofy and talks with ken about lamer stuff, you sit there and stone like i honestly never thought possible. why on earth do you always look so pissed? but you're nice enough i know, when i ask you for help, when you're telling me things, when you're talking with him. you have a nice smile. you always look like a kid with candy when you smile, maybe its so endearing just coz its such a stark contrast from the sulky-faced you.

cong sounds pissed again, but i know you never last. i cant remember ever having said sorry to you in my life.

as much as i like history and stuff like that i'll never be able to do it as something to believe in. there's just too much politics, everywhere, even when you think you're able to see through it you're just being deceived just like the rest. and i hate politics.

i love christl's pool, and happy birthday teamates, and i love the neoprints we took today, and it's been a long time since i've reached home in these hours, i am dead for tomorrow's mock. used up a roll of film :)

he tells me he wants to hold my hand, keeps a picture of me on his wall. uses everything i have against me, beats me in chess eight times in a row. he gets his fingers squashed in the lift and its always my fault. the kind of person who calls me at four am to talk about life, i roll over to answer the phone and i've come to the conclusion that you're a little insane. i lost the picture i took with you, how cute it looked. you just dont make sense, but you give me your lopsided smile and it doesnt matter anymore. i know this is just playtime, posterboy, lipshade. someday i will beat you at this game.

i try not to think of it. getting angry at you for being you, then being unella, doing things like this. the distance i know i will never be completely okay with, 7.9.03.

2003-09-06T09:11:00.001-07:00

and i wanna buy a fish from thompson plaza. nizam walked around the display with me, told me all about the fish and how he's been keeping them since forever, offered to bring me to the fish shop near his house next week on his off day. i wish i we was free then, i want a fish like those. so awful pretty, like my anorexic fighting fish.

they're so sweet. and i look out at a sandbluesky and think of how beautiful it is even when you look so torrid. and i see all there is to it, the ugliness i bear even when im with you, in you. sitting in their car, they're just so sweet im sad at the fondness.

i've missed tao zhe, i've missed melody i missed the last year feel. well not miss, exactly, but i remember it oh so well. when i studied with michfong actually studied for the first time in my life, played those songs over and over again, let myself be distracted by them in my mind during the papers themselves, then quit cold turkey for reasons i cant remember. and i felt that hole in my heart, that deep off feeling that you get with these things, i haven't felt that feeling in a long long time. didnt know i missed it, didnt know i cared.

2003-09-06T09:11:00.000-07:00

chel wants to know why i like dorian gray in lxg is it because his answer to what are you? was im complicated. she said id liked the way he said it, right? the whole not being proud of it but proud at the same time. and i hadnt thought of that, i was more likened to the whole thing about self-interest, practical, cold, detached. im sorry but i wont pretend im not self-interested, because at the end of the day everybody is.

my brother has some problem, some thing, with jumping. he stacks things up in the corridor and jumps over them, stacks these things higher and higher, one day he'll really be able to jump over me and that's scary. he films it on my mom's clie, This Is My Brother's Butt Airbourne. i suppose every gold medalist is allowed obsessions.

come talk to me, my dear, ask my advice on things that matter to you. i'll just tell you exactly what you dont want to hear.

2003-09-05T08:07:00.000-07:00

every day i think about it and come to the conclusion that people are stupid.

2003-09-05T08:04:00.000-07:00

i can do the t-stop on my blades :) jappo instructor thought i was super pathetic at first coz i took ten minutes to wear all the gear hehehehe. so glad i went, at the end of it all, i want to blade more than this.

you are the Perfect Typical Girl. and i would slit my wrists before i become like you.

i saw faces in the sidewalk today.

2003-09-04T09:15:00.000-07:00

daddy i miss you and hope you'll come home soon. you're so far away, you call on the phone, you ask me how i am, you sound so tired, i wanted to ask you how you were, but what would you tell me da? daddy please come home soon, will you? you sound like you want to, anyway. ma misses you, no one really takes care of her when you're gone. and who's taking care of you da? cooking you birdsnest in the middle of the night, feeding you juices and pills, soothing your insecurities i know that's what it is for you, at fifty-two. can you stop flying all over the place, da? coz i never realized it before, but im scared of losing you too. and i just dont like the idea of you being so far away and alone.

2003-09-04T09:06:00.000-07:00

i dont want to close my eyes and go back to that world. help, i am so afraid, i thought about my queer dream again, i picked it apart and found sense to it, i'm still afraid of what i was of in that dream, im scared to go to sleep tonight. the more i analyse my dream and pick it apart, the more it makes morbid disturbing sense and the more i discover how real my fears were, the more im afraid of them, the more im afraid to sleep in the dark anymore. that jolt between consciousnes, trying to rouse myself knowing im going to have a nightmare, trying and failing, sinking into a night of such a powerful subconscious, my conscious mind can't take all the skeletons that have been revealed. on hysteria's level, i can't even not think about it, it's like being attacked by your own fears, attacked like they were outsiders, with gain from your demise, i've never felt so helpless even after waking up before.

sometimes when these things happen i think about wanting to learn how to lucid dream, but at least when i freak out in the night my subconscious gets to say things to me, i cant rememer who told me that you shouldnt cut it off? when i get to find names for all the things that scare me, things i've never known i've known, the subconscious is such a hazy lagoon.

and i really wish i'd done my irs seriously in sec one

2003-09-04T08:23:00.000-07:00

got tickets for xiangzuozhuanxiangyouzhuan, heeheehee half a billion people wanna kill me right now i think that's the most fun in it. :D. so fun heh it was just fun enouh to go and chourenao even, when these huge things happen near our school, everyone running out across the court and the insane jams on the bridge, the silly idea of guys and girls walking past in the queue. gab dressed up as an acs guy and it was soooooooooooooooohilaaaaarioussssssssss even though she didnt get the ticket. wish i'd brought my camera to catch her in those stupid shorts that kept falling off, the elongated butt, i laughed till i cried and my stomach hurt and everytime i stopped i looked at deb wiping her eyes and id start laughing again. then there was when she was standing in the middle of the bunch of (real) hcjc guys, wearing ms fong's girly longs, im gonna be up laughing alll nite. i haven't laughed so hard for ages, and damn it feels good :)

nice man on the bus gave me his seat. jiayee sweetly offered her mom to send me home with all my barang, i think i perfected my pathetic look.

kevin has the incredibly astute memory pertaining to things he claims i've said in the past, he says he takes me too seriously. he says im nicer this year, heeheehee.

seems like every time i talk to joyce, i only tell her things she doesnt want to hear.

2003-09-03T10:59:00.000-07:00

jo is beautiful. jaryl or no jaryl. burning or not, i've never thought she was more beautiful then the night she burnt the ring or her stomach. morbid and creepy, but her eyes glowed in the light, you know how fire is at night. she looked so placid in that orangey glow, so dispossessed, i watched her half drunk, like she was almost one of those pretty girls. even in daylight people say she could be a Pretty Girl, if she dressed more typical and combed her hair more. smiled more, i think she smiles enough for me. they dont realize that these things are deliberate with her, that she hated when they say these things. but she was the most beautiful on those nights with jaryl, why did you always look so untouchable, so lost in a world of your own, jaryl was the only one who spoke to you at those times.

they say you're happier now than those times, though. got a steadier job, wanting to start school again. i remember how you cried once about dropping out, how your parents didnt care enough to stop you. they say you're studying for o's, to get a cert, get somewhere. uni, your looking good they say. isn't that all there is to this anymore? im happy for you, you know, coz i know it'd matter to you, where some other people could accept working these menial jobs all their lives. have you changed at all, jo? i have, kinda, but im still that vulnerable piece of shit you used to tag along to. you used to talk me up, does tara still do that for you? it's like a line of sisterhood, but all these people i havent thought about for so long. gi, tara, min, lisha. remember how i told you guys once that my father almost named me georgia, or georgina, how i would have the same name as gi? the silly song i was almost named after, instead of a beatles song, eleanor rigby with lyrics that threaten to spell my fate. do you know how afraid i still am of my own name, ella instead of elle, the so many people who dont know who is eleanor. remember how self-obsessed we were, really? me most of all, just because nora disappeared and left me at the end of the line. so jejune, but not. do you have a new boyfriend jo, have you talked to jaryl, lately? i havent talked to him for ages too, is he still the only one who could get through to you? i love being single, do you still feel like you're lying when you say that? do you still twirl the telephone cord around your toes when you're talking on the phone? chew your food only on the left side of your mouth, religiously drink a cup of coffee and then a cup or oj with salf every morning? have you scars healed, jo, after so long of promising not to cut yourself? i know you stopped along time ago, even before me, what about those stubborn ones on your palms that never seemed to want to fade? i remember how you told me not to cut myself even though you did, coz you didnt understand why you did it but you knew it wasnt good anyway. and the word healthy was never in my dictionary before. does it still bother you when people ask for your number? the people who couldnt even understand themselves what they saw in you. do you know that you're beautiful, in your calmness and darling smiles, more than you're pretty like everybody says?

i haven't seen you for a long time, jo.

2003-09-03T10:04:00.000-07:00

clarence came to talk to me for once in a long time, reminding me how things never seem to change with people like you.

i hate it when people play mind games with me. i can see thru you dearie. and i honestly in all honesty have better things to do with my time. joke me flip a coin, zed. wishin you could make me less sick.

and i look at it all and i know im not satisfied, i just wouldnt be, with an existence like that. what kind of days are those like? i wanna head places, be somewhere, away from rot and decay, age and time and all things irreversible. one way paths. is that what everyone is chasing, at the end of the day? or most, at least, those that dont get too happy, too obsessed, too distracted. is that why i study? to not get left somewhere, seems like the further you go down the line the more ridiculous the existences get. how do i make it to zero gravity? running away from life i tell myself not to want everything. i wish i'd talked more to michelle, i just want to know what its like to be so different while at the same time still there. it's like standing next to something beautiful and being torn apart by impulses and want, wanting to absorb it into and take it home with you, or wanting to fade into its colours and become part of the scenery. to be part of something beautiful. and you tell me you cant find yourself anymore that way.

www.colorquiz.com
The existing situation contains critical or dangerous elements for which it is imperative that some solution be found. This may lead to sudden, even reckless, decisions. Self-willed and rejects any advice from others. (Your Stress Sources:) Feels that life has far more to offer and that there are still important things to be achieved--that life must be experienced to the fullest. As a result, she pursues her objectives with a fierce intensity that will not let go of things. Becomes deeply involved and runs the risk of being unable to view things with sufficient objectivity, or calmly enough; is therefore in danger of becoming agitated and of exhausting her nervous energy. Cannot leave things alone and feels she can only be at peace when she has finally reached her goal. (Your Restrained Characteristics:) Believes that she is not receiving her share--that she is neither properly understood or adequately appreciated. Feels that she is being compelled to conform, and close relationships leave her without any sense of emotional involvement. Egocentric and therefore quick to take offense. Sensitive and sentimental, but conceals this from all except those very close to him. Able to achieve satisfaction through sexual activity.
( Your Desired Objective :) Intense, vital, and animated, taking a delight in action. Activity is directed towards success or conquest and there is a desire to live life to the fullest. (Your Actual Problem :) The fear that she might be prevented from achieving the things she wants leads her to play her part with an urgent and hectic intensity.

baby you're never there. at least dont trivialise me, at least try, remember how you said we were similar when we do that? anyway it doesnt matter, cheers :)

2003-09-02T08:40:00.000-07:00

joshua is adorable heeheehee. amuses himself and everybody else with a game controller not plugged in while mike plays with seriously ugly monsters on ffx. he crawls around on my lap and tries to take pictures with my camera, calls me ahno, or ahnonononono, like some afghan terrorist or something. heheehehhh stupid kid.

kevin inadvertly talks in riddles and i just watch the big words flowing down my screen. im not believing in socialism, by the way, what a pretty picture it paints for some, how the world will never be like that. anarchist at heart, apathist over all.

meiyin drove me craaaaaaaazy today. my most ridiculous junior, hiakhiakhiak. of course it's myyyy fault for making her laugh, yaddayaddayadda, cant stannnnd it so full of bs. and i yelled at jiayee on the tram coz she wouldnt concentrate, i know the floor people were wondering what the heck was up, xinyi said she's glad im not her senior, i think the only person who takes my yelling remotely well is renyi, coz i know she thinks really hard about her tao. yeah well its a big waste of time when they go up there and piss around even though i laugh like crap with them off the tram it just gets to me when i know the only thing standing in their way of doing the one movement is actual effort. jiayee gave her scared baby face but she did it and im happy enough.

2003-09-01T09:12:00.001-07:00

so
so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell
blue skies from pain.
can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
a smile from a veil?
do you think you can tell?
and did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
hot ashes for trees?
hot air for a cool breeze?
cold comfort for change?
and did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
how i wish-- how i wish you were here.
we're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year
running over the same old ground
what have you found? the same old fears

wish you were here.

2003-09-01T09:12:00.000-07:00

i wonder if you can better this, estranged. not Beautiful, but enough. the glass prison, things that shouldnt remind me, jo said hi again today. somebody asked me if i was okay, somebody asked me whether i was a guy or a girl. hospitals still bother me. friends is ending for good and i wanna cry, coz its the only 30 minutes of tv i watch every week. feel silly, i love joey.

You are "Welcome to the Caribbean, love."
You're more than a little world-weary, but also
intelligent and you keep your head when things
get dodgy. You're everybody's favorite
drinking buddy, but your stubbornness does get
in the way sometimes.

Which one of Captain Jack Sparrow's bizarre sayings from Pirates of the Caribbean are you?
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and hello, again. i went to your site because i dreamt of him again last night, every time i feel i could get more obsessed over something else he'll come back to haunt and claim his ownership of me like this, convince me to sell my soul to him all over again.

i thought of you again, coz of how you were so omnipotent in my dream. you could read my mind then. and i always wonder what would happen if i could talk to you now, always wish i had that chance, just to find out whether you're special or just like everyone else. just another pretty boy. realize that now, after talking to maria, would you really live up to my memory of you? coz you're a person too, i know you were different then, but has anything changed? have you found a place to fit in, become more typical, less special, less of a loner?

and its nothing much, really, sadness waiting to happen. my letters have jagged edges.

2003-08-31T10:07:00.000-07:00

im going to get a taperecorder. before i go crazy, and start losing all my words. when they flow through my mind i know i'll never find them again.

hi. please stop affecting me this way, will you do that for me? sometimes its so beautiful i want to catch it and put it in a jar. disected butterflies are beautiful to some.

(before you make me do something stupid, before you hurt me just by breathing my name, i've been abused too far in these days to feel want anything of you now. )

2003-08-31T09:40:00.000-07:00

i told weicong about my dream, my mother, my hysteria, my waking up crying. the feeling of desperation, absolute insanity, when you know its a dream, afraid that when you wake up it wont be a dream anymore.

i disturbed him. im good at disturbing people.

2003-08-31T09:24:00.000-07:00

and oh, dont call her a poseur, dont call her a bitch, dont call her a bimbo. i dont know her, really, but look at you. do we have a right to find it funny, how everyone can see it so clearly except you? you're judging your own reflection in her eyes, without even knowing that its yourself you're berating, and who, exactly, has the right to call anyone else a poseur? coz its all been said time and time again that everyone's a poseur to some extent. i really think you talk too much, about everything in the world that doesnt matter, you find the stupidest things in the world to get pissed at. and no matter how many excuses you can come up with, no matter how many Worse-Off Cases you can quote and requote in attempt to put this off, look at yourself my dear, let's take a fresh look at your definition, then let's pull up a mirror and see what we get. dont fool yourself, you know? i guess this always happens with people when they talk too much. i wish you didnt get to me, except for how powerful you are, the way you can destroy something like this, completely uncalled for. how can you read your Bible and spout garbage like that all in one day? it's not that i dont understand you, really, because sadly enough for me i do, i really do, it's just how i know you're smart, dear shit what's it like to feed yourself that kind of delusion every single day?

some time ago i decided then to chill out and just... chill out. can you do that? i forget that you cant read my mind. i revel in the feeling, that i dont live my life and pass my days for anyone anymore, anyone but self, i think about this whenever im on the bus, its such a freedom im scared that one day i'll wake up and it'l be gone. i dont know it seems like i've learnt to let go, i've learnt to flush out every tainted memory, i cant believe how happy it's made me? when all i remember is the innocence, the silliness, the happy times, few as they were, the little things im not going to say that i was ever that cold, only disillusioned, only numb, only troubled. and so im alive now, something i've come to realize, i've changed and become so much healthier and when i look back i want to smile at something past, you know? coz i've discovered that it doesnt take much to be healthy, i've discovered what a release it is how easy how pure, i want to keep it, wouldnt you? these things arent worth it.

but cheerio dearie, at the end of the day, i'll be wishing you the best that you deserve, hoping you're happy enough.

"When Doves Cry" (by Prince)
How could you just leave me standing, Alone in a world so cold? Maybe you'r just too demanding. Maybe I'm just like my father--too bold. Maybe you're just like my mother. She's never satisfied. Why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like, When doves cry.

Which 80's Song Fits You?
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and i like this song.

nizam called me jap girl today. the one person who's opinion of my hair i actually notice, coz he's noticed it ever since, he noticed it when it went up, went down, he was the one who said anything worth hearing, the only one who said more than people like ryan and gerard telling me they like my hair. ecashia saying she could never pull off hair that short, the sji gymmers standing there on flag day and staring staring staring at me, the old cliche of the earth opening up to swallow me whole. and i remind nizam of julian, and i feel sad for him coz julian meant so much to him, more to him than ever me. you see the something that most people dont see, you see what my hair makes me, that's queer, you know? everything it represented, you used to tell me my long hair wasnt me, then once you said it looked nice down, do i confuse you? i think i do, why do you still remember julian? when i've managed to forget that much, it's like you see him in my eyes, like we were related, had the same eyes or something. i can think of a million answers to these questions i would never ask you, and every single on of them sounds like something you could say. i dont want to think about this. dont know why im so pissed today.

nowadays no one remembers when they were young and stupid

2003-08-30T11:15:00.000-07:00

Independant

What is your behaviour towards guys?
brought to you by Quizilla i hate the word cool. i really really hate it. what a stupid word, what a misleading word, that swallows everyone around me up. i dont want to be consumed like that, i hate the idea of being typical. like pretty, versus beautiful, stupid versus silly, these things that bring out my contempt.

he laughed his head off when he saw me. ive never been so amused. good ol dingdong :) i asked him why he used to like me, he looked so damn shocked it made me laugh again. The Girlfriend called and apparently isnt happy about our hanging out like this. i was going to tell her that i was lesbian and not to worry, but ding snatched the phone away from me, hiakhiakhiak.

im trying not to think about this, going back, before the last time? im glad i talked about nothing to you, glad you didnt understand me, coz at least now i know for sure im not missing a thing. i am a loner, always have been, whether you or i saw it or not, just because i was never willing to need anyone, i was never willing to compromise my self. i've found myself lately, did you know? and you still sound so little-lost, so trapped in that world, i've never been gladder to be on the outside looking in. i believe in virtue, i have no idea what it is you believe in. there were three seconds where i know you felt it, then you left, and i waved and smiled your goodbye. i've missed joycelyn, the look on her face when she looks like she's going to cry, so so vulnerable, its hard to think of you being like that, with things ive heard and im sorry. this is just one big circle, you know? but i missed you, coz i was silly with you, remember how we fought over the sweeper position in the floorball team? remember lazing around at your house, spinning coins on the floor, really that was one of the silliest days i've ever spent. and the look on your face made me think you haven't changed, these recollections of better days gone by. pauline telling me i've changed ironic how she can look like that and say those words to me, but yes my dear i have? of course i've changed, havent you? i think you changed rite from the start, remember two years ago, drinking at the beach. i know how it feels, to change and not know it, i know you're not stupid, the sound of your voice when you told me i've changed belonged to that girl of long ago, i dont recognize michelle. nobody believes me when i said i bian guai le, but i really have, you know?

i want to be nicer to my parents. i want to try, they dont deserve this. i abuse them, i really do. anyone who really knows me knows exactly how abusive i can be.

i like the song i dont know why, not just the lyrics, something about the way he sings, sings about love, so melancholy and cynical and funny and hopeful. a million paradoxes and a brass instrument i cant name.

i remember holding hands and walking through the botanical gardens with you once, the tangy sunlight, your lopsided smile. you never could smile normally, i used to tease you about that. i remember your plucking a flower for me you werent supposed to do that, you kicked gravel along as you walked. you moonwalked and made me laugh. i cant remember what we used to talk about then, even, except that it was more than nothing, and that it was all too happy tinged with Too Sad, some alien sensation, i can never even grasp it anymore, save thinking about you. dreams last, so long; even after you're gone, remember how i loved that song, i never knew how relevant it would be? and thinking about all this just makes me feel so old, so so old, i'm only fifteen arent i?

i swear i dont deliberately talk like this. it's just the way i think, i like words my dear i wont deny it. i love the language.

hi tienyew, are you reading my mind?

2003-08-29T09:32:00.000-07:00

they cut down the tree, at ol, the big tall christmas tree we called it. rob told me not to cry, asked me if i wanted to be alone, i dont know why it felt so tragic, going back after two years, seeing a place for real for the first time in my life, there are so many things i never realized about the place. the silly pictures on the wall are still there, as they've been since i've known it. they tore off the basketall nets, replaced them with netball, they said something about how oL was now netball champions, pretty impressive stuff, putting my primary school on the map. everytime anyone asks me what pschool i was from i always tell them its some ulu little place that they wouldnt possibly know. and how they recognized me, gopal called me her little tomboy, remembers my swishing ponytail, and my eyes filled with tears when i saw her but i could hide it. gopal leaves in september, chen lao shi is leaving at the end of the year, jocelyn gave her a hug and looked like she wanted to cry. the canteen vendor who sells milo remembers me. and it was amazing, how many things i remember about the place, things that have seeped into my subconscious without my knowing it these three years, things that i discovered the original names of, talking with angel today. reminiscing and feeling old. teachers and people remembering my name, pauline looking so different, is this the girl i prodded barbie heads off with? short shorts and weird tops, lined eyes and fake hair. i didn't recognize her for the longest time, michelle looking at me thru slitty eyes, pauline looking at me through all that eyeliner and saying that i've changed just so much. maria's still laid back way of talking, her hokkien slang, her brown hair, her benovolent, mocking jest. and though i felt sad at how not many of our batch came back this year that wasnt what i cried about, i'd just wished i'd brought a camera to take pictures for the last year before everyone and everything's gone and knocked down. i would have taken a picture of the garden, the place where i lulled afternoons away with anisha, the rabbit hutch, the bball court, the science garden with the morning glories. i love morning glories. the courtyard so small when i think about ny's quadrangel, the square tiles that we used to use as home base in catching games. the tiny 100m field, the grass slope i can now cross in three strides that they used to tell us never to run down because it was dangerous. the old sick bay with the piano i played so often, the music room where we did our cheerleading dances. the canteen with the mouldy old fishtank, the vendors uncle abraham he wasnt there today, the back alley where he used to let some of us go in to dig thru his fridge for drinks. the pe room, i touched the old floorball sticks we used to use, i ran my hands up and down the floorball posts. the green coloured flag, i saw a housecaptain three years my junior with a short short skirt. my housecaptain badge is broken. the ava room, i sat in the chair i used to sit in primary 5, angel said she remembered how me or maro always had to wheel the projector out. but i hadnt gone to see the library, where i played carmen sandiego with lihong, where we spent mindless afternoons before walking to the bustop together. i wonder why we hung out even at all, we had nothing in common save the housecaptain badges. what did i sound like, back then? with my hundred and one issues, the way maria looks at me i know she still remembers. maro wasnt there today, neither vantan or tina, i cant decide whether or not i was glad. coz though the entire journey there was impossible turmoil, apprehension and excitement and not knowing what to expect, i hadnt thought about the security id gotten by looking around and seeing how nothing about the actual school itself has even changed. i could have done away with the people, rather walked those silent halls just to brush my fingers along those whispered memories, remember those days not wanting them back. i really wanted to just walk around and touch everything, figner everything, walk on the wooden planks again, wander thru the overgrown garden, sit and smell the intangible quality in the garden of peace. the classrooms i was in, i remember scenes from those days id thought long forgotten, i discovered that my subconscious remembered all these things that my mind so often calls dejavu. the benches where we used to gather every recess, maro and co, they would drink their lemon tea, i would drink my lemon barley. we walked thru the hall, angel and yifang and me, i climbed those tiny stairs and stood on the stage looking out empty, the simple in virtue steadfast in duty, my convent girl days, i know i'll remember you forever. mavis picked a bud from the tree, peeled it looking for a catipillar like we did in primary one, i laughed at the silliness we used to have, it touched my subconscious and made me cry, those days are gone but i cant believe how much i remember them, without even knowing that the memories of simple things were there. i would never have remembered that in a million years if mavis had said nothing. i miss the silliness, i miss being silly, simple, even though i screwed things up there were still these little things about my yesterdays that make me weep for loss. i miss the people who i'll probably never see again, i can never tell them how i realize in retrospect how much they meant to me and everything that they did to me, but i dont want to go back, i just want to see those forty faces in the same room again, just want to keep the memory of quiet times alone in those halls, the dreary quality, the endless afternoons.

and i had wanted to walk to the park in the old neighbourhood again, sit on the swing like jez was still around, cycle a bicycle thru the parks, sort out my memories before they blur into fuzz, pretend that there was nothing more but innocence in those days. thinking about those primary school years is sentimental i know, but what do i have of me, other than sentiment, anyway? what history, what records, what tangible, what past? except memories, and what they did to me, what they're doing to me still?

i have a camera, and two rolls of film. i've never been so assaulted by my own memories.

2003-08-28T10:03:00.000-07:00

i remember how i liked your terms of endearment, of me.

2003-08-28T10:02:00.000-07:00

your mind is complicated, that's what she wrote. i remember once recent, i thought about you and realized you're one of the most honest people i know. i think the word is forthright. and if i looked at me, through your eyes, maybe i wouldnt know what to think. that there's nothing to think, really, at the end of the day. perhaps im not ashamed of being queer.

Grey

What is your colour?
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primary school. tomorrow. aaaaaaaaaah. oh dear. and i wonder who will be there, even, who will recognize me other than teachers, maybe they'll remember my name, maybe not. maybe principal will talk to me again, remember me as "the rebellious housecaptain" . i wonder if they're gonna think i've gone butch just coz my hair is three cm short. i wonder what im expecting, really, the only people i can think of are maro, vanessa, maria, tina. the four people id wanted the closest to be. four people the most natural, the four people who have stuck together these three years. and the injustice i do to the people who really care about me, people like robyn and anisha, people it seems i only know how to ditch. i miss anisha, juz coz shes so natural and unabashed, i never used her, but i wonder how it is that i made her remember me after three years. i felt like hugging angel that day, in the sys memorial place, when she asked me about going back tomorrow, just coz i re-realized that hey she was part of oL too. back with all my million memories, what will i say to all that? that i had issues, its not a lie, that's all they are. i'd like to forgot days, days of Young And Stupid.

gab's group is going to slaughter us when we give feedback. coz even though i was popping gum during their debate i still have to adhere to choo's expectations from the abjudicators. im probably one of the few who read thru the whole thick stack of notes for adjudicating debates. i can hear them now, the combination of gail gab and shuhan is sigh. never mind that we have points to make, they're gonna kill us anyway.

seven people asked me today why i was running. and janice's training for next year cross country isit. hiak. i run coz it feels GOOD dammit. and when gab told me about runner's high when we trained for 2.4 i thought she was crazy. i think Skinny And Happy is an oxymoron, anyway. fat people are happy, heeheehee :D

you never listen to your nasty disposition, now

2003-08-27T08:52:00.000-07:00

hi miss my eggs?

you put me out of a bad mood in three seconds :)

2003-08-27T08:43:00.000-07:00

you make my pupils dilate.

that's not a compliment, by the way.

Surfer / Skater : you enjoy chilling with the boys
and having a laugh. you don't care about having
perfectly manicured nails, life is too short
for that. you're easy going most of the time
and boys will respect you for that!

ladies: what are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
intelligent: you are really smart and often get
rewarded for that fact. you're not one to speak
out too much and only your friends know the
funny person you really are. occasionally you
might get hassle for being yourself, but at the
end of the day you know better to just be
yourself and that's why the people around you,
love ya! you're a good friend and as loyal as
anything and would never dream of directing
those around you to do what you want, you're
creative, talented and smart. you're what most
people secretly envy!

what kind of girl are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
sigh.

gerard says i like the bad guys in movies. dorian gray and the matrix twins. they're cool, they're smooooth, they're shify detached and professional badasses, and i like that. and ella's anti hero anyway.

its only when i look at you, and then look back at me, that i realize that i've sold out, so badly, yet not. im not like you. but a huge part of me breathes on the same air as you do. is it you, or is it me? coz i wonder, dont see how things could be so different, really. are you just luckier than me in finding them there, or am i just weirder, more different, more hybrid, more or less insane?

i think i talk like this on purpose. pissing kevin off, on-purpose capitals where others are ingrammatical. like you and your Lame Lamps.

2003-08-27T08:39:00.000-07:00

how do you get rid of the pain....how do you get rid of the pain?
hanging, blood rush--
gaping goldfish, off the side
thinking stone, um.
white yellow blue more
pills for my Pills Collection.
there it goes;
againbbbzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
circles and light around my
mind

maybe different, in sleep.

2003-08-24T10:32:00.000-07:00

cong is crazy shit sometimes. :)

2003-08-24T10:13:00.000-07:00

if i could put music notes up here, i would. not as if i can read music notes, or anything.

doesnt it scare you, da? how im so much like you? i cant remember who said there's something very uninhibited about me and that's why im scary. what will you think of on your deathbed da? will it be your mother? your home? australia, the rushing waves? surfing, waking up at four am, your heart is down under and you tell me how you wake up according to australia's time. will you think of my grandma, the one you look like, the one who burns so brightly in your eyes everytime you talk about her? will it be china, the way you never got to go back and visit your village, never got to put your name and mike's on the record? will it be ma, who you're so protective of, the one who forgives you everything? will it be your family, your sisters and your brothers, the one that died and the on in woodbridge who ma refuses to let me ask you about, what would you say to me if i told you i wanted to know him da? will it be that girl you were supposed to marry, before you met ma, you never told me your story. you never told me narratives like that, you only described the details of your life, faded and water marked bits of jigsaw that i'll probably never be able to put back together. will you regret the way you've lived your life, on your deathbed? something sad and panicked and unrelenting, would that be your style? and im sure you wouldnt think of us, da, me and michael and michelle, but i dont respect you any less for it. i think of how alone people are in this life, and how you maybe you tried and managed to do this all, and i'll think about these things when im at your funeral. the things i respect you for, and the things that in the end you've lost.

so over this, over you, how sorry i felt for him, how my class is suddenly soon going to overun by ri guys. and how id rather hang around with them. sir my hair cannot take it sir. better this than the rich bitches.

2003-08-23T07:54:00.000-07:00

i cant see straight anymore.

that I would be good even if I did nothing
that I would be good even if I got the thumbs down
that I would be good if I got and stayed sick
that I would be good even if I gained ten pounds

that I would be fine even if I went bankrupt
that I would be good if I lost my hair and my youth
that I would be great if I was no longer queen
that I would be grand if I was not all knowing

that I would be loved even when I numb myself
that I would be good even when Im overwhelmed
that I would be loved even when I was fuming
that I would be good even if I was clingy

that I would be good even if I lost sanity
that I would be good
whether with or without you

2003-08-22T09:57:00.000-07:00

i will learn this. it's beautiful, i know, i can do this, i will do this. alanis. and beatles. and i dont care anymore. cream sauce spagetti with sam, talking to ian again, splitting headache counting my painkillers and telling myself how i wont take them. in a bottle. done done done please let me be done with these antibiotics. i've been happy, lately, and i know that coz there are more good days than bad days now. dorian gray intrigues me. stepped over the line with gab for xcountry, proud of myself coz i didnt stop. crying, crying-- these automatic flowers wont do-- hey? now that i look back on things i realize that we were quite stupid. ~~and that in ways, you're still stupid stupid stupid. from here i mean, sorry bout this whole idea of value judgement, but i just think the things that you worry about, your existence is stupid.~~ if i had the choice id stay in school forever, i love learning i dont know why i realize that but i do. i saw me thru your eyes today, and saw you thru your own, do you know how different things are, but still the same? baby dont look up the sky is falling. i realize i've got a lot more self control now than i had before, i cant believe how happy ive been lately. im intrigued with gab's dream, something about self-identity, a symbol of vanity and superficiality, intrigued coz its not a dream i can dream of having, not like dreams that i can imagine, i love interpreting this but then its just for fun. i dreamt about horses again, running across an ocean, chasing water down a waterfall. mavis looks different and the same, i am scared of going back to primary school, anisha will you stay with me, am i going to abandon you for maro again? what if i see you again tomorrow? my old friend, you scare me sometimes, suddenly coming back ito my life, do you know that my smile hasnt changed since you left?

that i would be loved, even when i numb myself

2003-08-22T09:18:00.000-07:00

how bout getting off these anti-biotics
how bout stopping eating when I'm full up
how bout them transparent dangling carrots
how bout that ever elusive kudo

thank you india
thank you terror
thank you disillusionment
thank you frailty
thank you consequence
thank you thank you silence

how bout me not blaming you for everything?
how bout me enjoying the moment for once
how bout how good it feels to finally forgive you?
how bout grieving it all one at a time

thank you india
thank you terror
thank you disillusionment
thank you frailty
thank you consequence
thank you thank you silence

the moment I let go of it
was the moment I got more than I could handle
the moment I jumped off of it
was the moment I touched down

how bout no longer being masochistic?
how bout remembering your divinity

how bout unabashedly bawling your eyes out?
how bout not equating death with stopping

thank you india
thank you providence
thank you disillusionment
thank you nothingness
thank you clarity
thank you thank you silence

2003-08-21T09:06:00.000-07:00

for just one day, twenty four hours, or even just one moment in your mind, ask yourself if you're bloody asking for it. really, ask yourself. put yourself in their shoes, check out how you look from over there. you know?

so when you're sitting there bitching about her again, just remember that somewhere out there somebody's gonna be bitching about you. maybe the idea won't bother you now, but wait til you hear the things that people can come up with.

2003-08-20T08:28:00.000-07:00

cute will be a bad word from now on, you hear?

2003-08-20T08:26:00.000-07:00

i want to inherit da's cds. all of them, im sorry how stupid this sounds. i love his cds. he played them in the car, he told me to go to sleep like he always does, coz he knows im tired but i think also because he'd like to be alone with his music, damn i want his cds. so many sinful compilations, quizzas quizzas quizzas, beatles anthologies, gunsnroses, great song after great song after great song, how can you ask me to sleep when the music is so damn good? i can imagine listening to these when im thirty.

if i was poseur enough, i'd let you stop me. i really really would. too bad for you. :) im glad you werent what i thought you were before, but somehow i think its not just my perception that's changed, but you too. alot of the times i wonder if you would be able to say the things you do if you were given differently from what you are, but i guess that's just my thinking too much again. i like you the way you are. wouldnt be you any other way.

i wish i could say sorry to yinkae for her having done 99.9999999999% of the irs project that has both our names on it, made worse by how since choo teaches me and not her she seems to be giving me all the bloody credit for it, but it all feels useless so i dont bother. what's it gonna change, huh? this is the last irs i'll do in my lifetime and choo wants it up for exhibition. so what can i do to make it up to yinkae? i dont think anything makes it better, only worse, everything always makes it worse, i take a full minute composing a sms to her these days to make sure i dont sound ungrateful. what do i do to make it up to you dearie? im not the sort to do a thing. not the sort to lick your boots out of remorse im sure you wouldnt want me to, not the sort to even be especially nice though im trying i cant be anything but pure blunt ella, i wont use you in that way you know? there's no justifying this and that's why it bothers me. maybe im the only one worrying about this, but if i were you i'd really want to push ella off a cliff right now look me in the eye when you say that my dear im sorry but what can i do. not indicating in any way by this that you've shown any sentiment or what, as i say this is just what goes up in my mind. next time i shall do work with people like shaoning who won't let my slack, who'll keep reminding me but do her part at the same time, i think that's the only thing that really motivates me in group work, the thought that hey somebody else doesnt deserve to get shortchanged for my laziness. dont like being a leech, watching her churn out all the articles feeling useless and guilty, at least when i kick my own ass and get something out of it i have my self respect back with me at the end of the day.

kevin is one of the nicest persons to have a conversation with. somehow it's different from chatting with most other people, there's a certain level of intelligence to the things he says. he talks politics, i talk why i dont want to talk about politics, our viewpoints are just so different but its fun to banter like that and try to make sense of things. i can talk to him like i could talk about literature with people like yx. thats interesting, yes, and a nice change too, from the mindless noise that goes around everywhere all of the time. the guy is one year my junior and he knows more words than i do.

i was amused when i first read your blog talking about me, but progressively just got more sad sad sad sad. i wonder if he deserves you, you know? you looked nice, last now, mild and all that, when he brought you over to say hi, i feel so sad that it could have had that much effect on you? at first i sat there at my computer thinking oh man you're so sad you guys deserve each other but then i realize its not really your fault? you wrote about a thousand words of insecurity, and i wish you wouldnt coz you're worrying about nothing, there is no way anything goes on between him and me? so what if he named his whatever after me you have to realize that that's the damn past im not proud of i wont capitalize it's you he wants now, you know? i dont pretend to know why he brought you over to see me last now, probably proud of his new girlfriend, i wasnt paying attention to him long enough to see whether he was disappointed at my lack of um i dont know interest? envy? admiration? whatever. you see my perception of his is just tainted by those days when all he wanted was a girl to show off, well i hope he's changed now that he's met you? coz you look sincerely nice. gave me a little smile, played the good girlfriend, i really liked you enough. i just didnt care much coz he was kinda shoving you in my face, yeah well i hope he's good to you dearie.

and come on, i like intellect in people but i do retarded things too. if you've got a better word for it that would better convey it, not being a elitist thing, let me know, won't you? i've been looking too.

i've been bloody high these days, running feels so good, sleeping feels so good, rain feels so good, maths feels so good even. did you spike my drink?

2003-08-19T08:49:00.000-07:00

*--
out on the road today, i saw a BLACK FLAG sticker on a Cadillac
a little voice inside my head said don't look back you can never look back
i thought i knew what love was
what did I know?
those days are gone forever
i should just let them go but-

i can see you-
your brown skin shinin' in the sun
you got that top pulled down and that radio on, baby
and i can tell you my love for you will still be strong
after the boys of summer have gone
--*

here's a toast, to you, your wine that i drink of, five times a day, religious as prayer. you're gone baby and i know im glad, well i'll drink to you anyway.

2003-08-19T08:45:00.000-07:00

fuck That Cow. me and my code words. shall chant it when i go jogging, cept i wont call her That Cow then, while im by myself.

i am bothered, reading white oleander, seeing so many of the values that i have to beat down with a stick in myself in the mother. i know i am bothered.

i am myself, my juniors are so amusing. zixi says in her mind i've always been the girl with the short ponytail, this is hard to get used to. i was so tempted to ask him about you, please tell me about the dire dire dire consequences. dear happy world, i like that. 4 and two thirds of a day per subject, if i started two days ago. how do i know? i counted this, with a calculator, that's how much i cant think anymore. your call today, what happened anyway? i dont believe you were just bored, somehow that's what i am to you, that unreplied message, did she break your heart all over again? and all you remind me of the eight of you the few i still talk to, the said don't look back you can never look back, im sorry i ignore you guys sometimes, it's never deliberate, the overhaul is just too there, you guys still talk like you did four years ago and that's all my memory of him. i've ticketed his memory and put it away. that song reminds me of you you know? that's queer, coz nothing much reminds me of you these days. if you still remembered me from four years ago, maybe this would be what i am to you. well dont look back you can never look back, remember how i made you crazy well shut it out now. it's not hard anymore.

fifty isnt much to you. you could have any girl you wanted, well that was just you.

2003-08-18T09:11:00.000-07:00

i think its the conversations like these that make you think im so depressed, kenneth. im not. im resigned to these facts, i can smile lightly when i say these things, if you tell me that im numb well than at least im numb and i cant feel a thing. im selfish in these conversations, i can imagine the worry etched on your face. there is somebody on my msn list who's email is selfishandabsurd, i liked that a lot. i dont know who you are, you never come online. in the chinese summary today there was this line about people who are too obsessed with freedom that the overlook the "power of love", chinese is so crazily corny sometimes.

i have to keep running, walking, moving. i told you the world sucks a long time ago. but im not bitter about that anymore. its just one of those things ive accepted, like gravity, like rainfall, like sharp. you are sharp, you know.

im the only girl i know who asks for it.

2003-08-18T08:59:00.000-07:00

too damn tempted. scissors in my bathroom and 3 cm hair left. xinyi told me not to heh well i didnt. my juniors are going to scream tomorrow.

gail said my team mates are cute. the ones who come tottering along to my class to see me, squirt water all over the classroom, all over their papers. heeheehee. they know them by name now, zixi?, xinyi?, christl?

more pills, this time, his telling me not to worry about it. he prescribed antibiotics, white and huge and bitter like powdered metal, asked if i wanted anything else. he watched me carefully then. i didnt tell him that i hurt, didnt tell him how i locked myself in the school toilet last now and cried coz the pain wouldnt go away, felt like a stoner off drugs, some relentless pounding going on it was some part i couldnt get rid of. he gave me painkillers anyway. ma saw me flinching yesterday and asked me about it, she tells me i shouldnt always try to solve these problems by myself. why do you have to be so strong. what for. we divide our pain this way. sometimes you all are so independent you scare me. alot of things scare you, ma, i know that now. but dont you see yourself in me, my weakness i have it too. just coz im ashamed of it, doesnt make it go away, i promise you. she told me to try not to take the painkillers if i could help it, i didnt answer her. i dont know how to tell you how different i am from you, though, look at the man you married. look at your children mother look what you made us. you didnt shape our personality, you had no control over that, but when you wonder why we're so distant i would sometimes like to tell you that that's just what you made us, made this family. paying my brother to give me tuition, i remember you used to pay us to give you a goodnight kiss when we were small. do you know that not everything works like numbers, mother? do you know that i remember these things, ten years after living in that house, ten years down the road i will still be the same. no hugs no kisses, nobody in this house can bring themselves to care that much. except you, ma. so why did you do things this way? did you see this coming, did you? you mapped out a plan of how to raise your children, did you ever consider that we were people too? i dont think you imagined your kids would be smart, would have the ability to think, but we do. the best was michelle maybe, her openess with you, but isnt it scary to see her forming herself. my brother only saw the weaknesses in your system, the loopholes and shortcuts he could take, that's his smartness i guess, that's always been my brother. me? i dont know what i am anymore ma but i know that it scares you all the same.

i wish you were here now, michelle. you know i thought about it that day, and realized that ever since you went away i became a girl without an older sister. sometimes when xinyi or other people tell me things about their older sisters i think of you and i can even imagine doing those things with you. you were the wild and crazy one, you're the one my friends call funky, yeah you are funky, i suppose the australian lifestyle is just so intriguing to us hermits over here, but then after it all you're still so you so so you, so unapologetic, well at least that's what i saw in you. feel like you're not my sister at all, even, sometimes. and i wish you were here now, with your self hacked hair, your toothy grin, you make me feel okay to be anything at all, even though i know you probably don't believe in it yourself a hundred percent of the time. seems like all my life i'd strived for something of that sort, knowingly or otherwise, strived for your approval, could you tell that? and i know alot of people who look at me like i look at you, like i didnt give a damn bout anything or anyone, like my own approval was all i need but that's not true you know, i don't need a lot of people but i do need you. well i did, anyway, but how would i know anymore? i haven't seen you for more than half a year, i haven't talked to you at all, i remember when you left was it five whole years ago, my uncles and aunties asked me about it and i told them honestly that i wouldnt miss you. i wouldnt, you know, i didnt then. i never really missed you til this family started turning to stone. do you know how much life you give us? your blatant nature your honesty your life and style and your relentless sarcasm. none of us could have replaced that in you, you know? mike doesnt really say that much, he just reminds me of this big tigger bouncing around all the time, otherwise stoning in his room and playing i believe over and over again in the night, i notice these things about him and that's who i am. i can't bounce for long, not in the consistent way you do. i wanted you to be here for me now, especially now, especially when xinyi asked me how i was so da dan to cut my hair so short, that made me think of you. i would have watched your expression when you looked at me, i'd have told you about kevin and how he said he loved working on my hair, how he said you inspire me with that lopsided smile, what does it imply that i would have inspired this androgyny. somehow i have this delusion that you'd have something more worthwhile to say. i know it's not like that, at the end of the day, just coz you have such a life, your name is michelle and not just My Sister. what is it like to have a sister like me? you watched me all my life, being a little idiot, what does it feel like to know that at the end of the day you have to love me, just because im your sister? how does it feel like, your determination, your im scared to go, im mad to go but i will go? and i remember eleanor ho crying on the last day of school in primary 3 saying she'd miss me, i remember how that made me go home crying on the bus samantha gave me this look like she'd never thought she'd have seen me cry in a million years, like she suddenly saw me as a person i remember that look. i remember withdrawing my application to transfer school, i changed my life that day just because a girl i hardly talk to anymore told me she was going to miss me being around. she wasnt my best friend, she was someone i wouldn't have hesistated to step on, somebody like robyn and even anisha, i stepped all over you guys running to be with marilyn. i couldnt imagine how i'd have to act around these people again, i'm scared to go back to my primary school on teacher's day. and i remember you michelle how effortless everything always was for you. i dont know how to deal with these things, you know, even though people think i do. i dont know what to do when teachers are fascinated with me, like mrs tay, like mrs song, like ms tan even, the random questions they would ask me in class, like things i said mattered, like maybe what if i wasnt just a stupid little girl? mrs gopal, remembering me after three years, what will you say about how i didnt return your calls? how will you show me off to your new class? remember the class of 2000, how we made it so hell for you, remember emily and her poisonous writing, remember how my class fell under spotlight that year and you'd appealed to the principal to get a switch. coz you couldnt hold your head up in our class anymore, not with those forty eyes looking at you, like the last few rows of our class held so much power over the school you didnt know how to control. was it scary for you, could you see it in marilyn's eyes, the way she affected people, the way i affected her? i wonder what it looked like to you. like we were the first class that didnt like you, the seniors always told me such nice things about you. is that why you remember me, after three years? because i didnt write evil things about you? because even then even though emily would talk so much about me i still held to this belief that there was more? primary school is such a hazy blur now, so so distorted and complicated, has it really been three years? will you smirk to see me again, my dear? i hoped there was a way to be nothing to you, but i wont keep thinking about this. i think about primary school the first time i stepped in there, with michelle. i remember when i was in kindergarten and i used to wait for michelle to come home on the school bus, i'd sit on the steps in this white pj dress with black dots on it and an elephant over the heart. i loved that dress. your schoolbus driver would say how cute i looked, why did all you people think i was so damn adorable last time anyway? the people at the market giving me food. teachers letting me skive off homework and do things i now know i would never have in a million years been able to get away with, the guys playing bball letting me toddle around with them. that's what i was to them, even though i wasnt that small. i toddled, that's just how big you guys were. seems like michelle you were the only one who saw what a stupid idiot i was. you wouldnt let me do those things to you, you resented it, you didnt know how much i wanted to be like you then. do you feel old? i feel old. i'm only fifteen and im sick of this already. how does it feel like to be twenty one? to be twenty one and you, i mean. and so far, far away. are we on your radar, anymore? i cant imagine you'd find a place for us in your life you know?

the boys with money act like they can buy you. i dont know where that came from, which part of my subconsciousness. but what hell do i know, anyway. seems im just unlucky, to know all these people. maybe other girls dont get people like that. maybe i ask for it, yes i do, its a chicken and the egg thing all over again. why am i like this. you made me like this. why are you like that. because of girls like me.

nothing satisfies me. that's the most honest thing i've said all night.

2003-08-17T07:21:00.000-07:00

i wish i could understand my dishonesty. i found a name for it today, it's called paranoia. kill or be killed, i am an uptight person after all it seems. maybe i hide this so well i hid it from myself. why am i so obsessed today.

i can sing wind of change in my sleep. i didnt know i could do that.

2003-08-17T06:50:00.000-07:00

i want something pure, pure and clean and whole. i was thinking about justine in church and i was thinking how much i'd hate me if i were her. just because i've been such an idiot to her ever since i've met her, and i know this from afar though i just keep on doing this, like seeing myself from outside my own body, being a childish self obsessed bitch. but i want something pure. they talked about that in church today, while i sat between janice and steph and was distractedly thinking about something nice to climb. i like to climb. i want something pure. a childlike existence like i never had, always too obsessed with growing old, always and always again and again, until it's too late and i find myself clutching at them that have already gone, slipped thru my fingers and faded faded faded. i've been caught up and i never dreamt i'd want anything else. im happy now. im becoming more and more empty, as the days go by. i'm obsessed with beauty, one day i will regret living my life as i know it is going to be lived. i am going to study literature in university, i am going to try and talk really talk to gail. just because she's the only other person i know who reads literature books for fun, like me, the only person i can think of who doesnt read the trashy rubbish that the rest of my class seems to be clamouring for, no offense to each his own and all that but simple fact of how i dont see eye to eye with you guys on that. i like literature books. i liked mrs dalloway. but i cant tell you the storyline, coz that's not what it's about. i like virgin suicides because i'd read it once before and failed to understand, then grew up a little and read it again and this time everything was so felt. i liked it coz it made sense, because it told me something about the me who was depressed, just like the so many people who are depressed now, this teenage depression, this selfishness i would never have believed. there is a God but i can't reach him. i want to be pure, i want to be everything. this is pop culture, after all. cheap tricks and magic mirros. i am surrounded by it. why do i only know lucky honeys in this light? i can never talk to people like you.

i want to forget what it was like to have been taken advantage of. gab's words, emotionally scarred. funny to think of myself being scarred. like i've had two eyes all my life, what if i wasnt born with them but they were just some freak accident? maybe one of the eyes was meant to be looking inside of my head. but now i see with two. and now im "emotionally scarred", could there be a worse cliche for it. adaptation is a really really good movie, and i will watch it again.

and i blame this randomness today on the lucky honey.