me

Once upon a time

2006-07-15T12:14:00.000+08:00

56 days

2006-07-09T17:48:00.000+08:00

I had a wonderful morning, we shot the last few scenes for 'The Flat'. It's a Horror Film! Of ALL the genres I thought I'd EVER be acting in for my very first movie, I NEVER imagined it'd be a Horror Film.

It was exhilarating watching myself thrown from the 6th Level, falling near the Rubbish Chute with a loud 'thud'.

Okay, enough about the Movie. It's small, local and budget. I'll talk more about it when it's out.

These days, I've been hovering over the border of Past and Present. Since the seniors' farewell last saturday, I've contracted chronic nostalgia. Lapsing into silent, dazed mode ever so often in between lessons and studying; reminiscing on the Laughters and the Tears these four years.

It's been a heart-wrenching four years, but I realised, it's worth it. And I know I'll definitely be as emo when I graduate from School no matter HOW I may detest it right now, because I spent a LARGE part of my teenage years there.

These days, I've been trying to prepare for the O Levels. But I'm always so tired, the moment I open my Chemistry Textbook, I feel myself drifting into oblivion, a glance at numerals renders me in a stupor.

2 months left. Moudy suggested that I draw up a Calender leading up to the first paper and cross each day out as it goes by -- that way, my brain will panick the moment my eyes glimpse the number of days left and I'll study even harder than the day before. It's 'psychology', she says.

Seeing as how I'll probably be thinking,"Oh merde, I've got X Days left.", I should say it's Masochistic Pessimism.

56 days left. DIE DIE DIE.

have i been erased?

2006-07-06T23:46:00.000+08:00

'I am having some insecurities like last time again, so I need time...'

'oh, okay.'

'There is something I have been wanting to tell you for a long time...'

'yes?'

'Actually I don't know how to put it in words...'

'well just say it then'

'...I tell you when you come back...'

'okay..'

3 months have gone by.

Murder by Gruel

2006-07-06T12:05:00.000+08:00

I'm back! No, I'm not dead (too bad haters!), I've been busy with School and Sick (: But I feel better now so I'm taking a break from Math and Chemistry.

My head is relatively empty from all the pills, so I'll just type whatever that drifts into the Vacuum.

I HATE PORRIDGE WITH MEAT BITS.

Friendly Chat

2006-07-03T12:53:00.000+08:00

"So when did you come back?"

"Er, I was in Canada for awhile, I'm not sure."

"So you were born in Singapore?"

"Yeah."

"Are you Singaporean?"

"No .. I mean yes."

"But you lived in Canada?"

"Er, I'm not sure .."

"Okay when did you come back to Singapore then?"

"Erm, a few years ago? I'm not sure."

"Which school do you go to?"

"[International School]."

"Isn't it illegal?"

"What? Oh, er, I, er, don't know .."

Moudy. Who seems to believe her sole purpose in life is to freak the living daylights out of her neighbours.

Paradox

2006-07-01T23:16:00.000+08:00

I hate it when the week starts off and continues horribly but ends off on a bright note -- that way I don't have ANYTHING to bitch/complain about. But, what the heck, it made things a lot better, so I'll be HAPPY.

We dashed off our Physics Project yesterday at Isaac's after school. I thought it would be a flop and there would be many frayed nerves but the whole thing was really fun. It took a surprisingly short time. There was alot of delaying all over the place, waiting, watching Scary Movie 4 on Pirated VCD, cleaning up an exploded bag of chips courtesy of yours truly.

On hindsight, the project triggered the Smiles of The End Of The Horrible Week. OH THE IRONY.

Today was another splendid day. I find it increasingly rare for me to have consecutive days of Smiles and Laughter -- YES MY LIFE IS THAT TRAGIC.

I went for the Seniors' Farewell Barbeque at Fairfield's Fabled Pit. There weren't that many people but it was still a blast. We played catching of some sort and the guy who was chasing me ended up on the ground.

It's like some curse or something. Anyone who tries to run after me/escape from me ends up tripping or falling over. It's so hilarious watching them running and falling behind me. MWAHAHA. Did I say curse? I meant BLESSING.

The juniors gave us seniors gifts - Nick's a samurai hat, Me a soft toy Chicken (I was sort of wondering what they were hinting at)though Kevin adamantly claims it's a DUCK - and their Honey-laced Words were SO sweet I contracted Diabetes and have to go for a Dialysis everyday now. It is that bad.

Mr Pang gave his Question-mark-invoking-Speech, then Nick, me and Kailin a VERY brief Thank You Good Bye Speech. And Renee a Coach Speech (?).

Lots of laughter, Nick Jokes and Indecision saw us out of School. Then finally they decided on Jurong Point.

IT WAS SO BLOODY CROWDED.

We shouldered ourselves to the Escalator and I realized it was so Human Infested because the Singapore Idol Finalists were Autographing their Posters -_-

How narcissistic can that be?

Somehow, Paul Twohill seems to bear a striking resemblance to Joe Geuse of The Click Five.
Hmm. Seperated at birth ?

Anyways, the guys went to watch Superman and the three of us girls stoned with coffee at Coffee Bean.

So that was my day.

Simple, Short and Superb.

I still am unable to grasp the fact that Time flies faster than Light when you're having fun. Blame it on my obstinate belief of there being a Forever.

4 months

2006-06-29T22:09:00.000+08:00

I am upset. I feel like a bloody bird in a bleeding cage.

I am tired and stressed. It's been a very taxing first week of school. I thought they would go easy on us seeing how they practically reduced our 'vacation' to a freaking Work Spree but NO, they shove books, papers, facts and figures at us the moment we step into school.

Allright, that was alittle too exagerrated. SEE WHAT I MEAN? Oh forget it.

I just want a form of RECREATION to get the weight off me but NO, Moudy and Vaddy don't care. All they bloody care about is my results. RESULTS RESULTS RESULTS. They're ADULTS and yet they don't seem to comprehend the fact that Singapore has become a multi-talented society that requires MORE THAN JUST RESULTS.

TRES MERDE.

Maybe it's just me or the perhaps it's the Strain talking. An hour of Humanities feels like an eternity with just the monotonous jotting of notes and hearing the occasional debate between Jeremy and Ms W about Social Governmental Issues. The Sciences consist of a dreadful mountain of facts and figures to climb and Language Lessons have turned into Hours of Mutilated Hands and Words-never-seen-before.

Yes. It is definitely the Strain talking.

Here's to 4 months of Hell.

Iris

2006-06-29T21:55:00.000+08:00

And I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

The Dead Milkman and Cow the Ripper

2006-06-25T12:07:00.000+08:00

Ever heard of a 'Blovie' ? 'Course not. I just invented the word. It's a Blog Movie. A movie in blog form. I wouldn't call it a script, it sounds SO boring. Neither will I call it a Synopsis because then it'll be about a movie on Silver Screen and not a real Blovie.

Besides, Blovie sounds unique (:

I direct my very first Blovie! It's a gorrific comedy. It's gory, amusing and slapstick -- if you find joy in others' suffering and don't hurl at the sight of blood.

***

Setting is Cow the Ripper's era. There has been a spate of spine-chilling, colly-wobbling murders in a secluded suburban town called Shyamalan.

Strangely, all the murder victims are Milkmen or have been Milkmen in their History. The Milkmen are found in Cow Houses trampled, bloody, fractured with their guts leaking out of Hoof-Shaped Holes in their abdomens; their privates are also brutally removed, leaving spurting vessels and limp tendons dangling from the rotting gap in their lower-halves. Hoof tracks are seen, so the Townspeople conclude that the murderer rides on a hoofed animal of some sort. But they are uncertain because there're many cows in the cow house, so it could've just been curious cow that went up to the dead Milkman.

The Milkwomen are relatively unharmed for an unknown reason, though there has been a sudden void in their sex lives.

In the era, people only get to marry people of the same status/occupation as they are, so Milkmen marry Milkwomen, Farmers marry Farmresses, Doctors marry Doctresses and Bulls marry Cows.

The Milkwomen are baffled. So are the townspeople.

"Why the men?", Milkwoman Marion wonders.

"Why OUR men?", wails Milkwoman Margaret.

So the Milkwomen and the Townspeople hold a meeting at the Great Chapel with what's left of the Milkmen in town. The remaining Milkmen are terrified out of their wits because two Milkboys have also been murdered and the Townspeople never expected killers to be so heartless as to murder innocent little children.

The Milkmen fear for their lives and, being men, fear for their groins too.

The whole town turns up at the Great Chapel because this is the most exciting thing that has been happening in ages, and the Town Head is gobsmacked by the overwhelming response. Less than half the town appeared to witness the diplomatic discussion between the Town Head and the President over the resettling of the Town.

The happy wives gossip and the brawny men brawn.

"Didja hear? There'sa goana be some Governer comin' over tomorrow to see the town!"

"Oh no! I betcha di'ent hear that the Head'sa murderer 'imself!"

"Ah caught a Tahger wit' ma own two han's, wachoo goata say ta that?"

"Zat's nothing! I killed two Chimaeras wit' ma finger!"

A wave of shushing and hushing pierces the noisy bustle as the Town Head takes his place on the Podium with his entourage of Body Guards, Maids and Wives trailing behind him.

The Town Head has scripted a Speech! The townspeople are not interested in his Speech, so they hold a meeting of their own. They talk among themselves.

The Milkwomen are bent on revenge, but they are terrified of getting killed themselves. The brawny men volunteer to catch the murderer alive, but they haven't got enough brains to tell the end of a cow's tail, much less track the murderer and capture him. This leaves the children and the gossip-wives.

They aren't much help. The children care more about marbles than murders, and the gossip wives think they'll be able to bring the murderer down by gossiping.

The Milkmen are a no-brainer. They would rather die than go after the murderer. They are already cowering by their wives' aprons.

Milkwoman Myrtle can stand the wasteful tirade no longer. Her husband is dead, she does not care if she dies, so she says she will find the murderer and asks who will help her.

The widow Milkwomen look at each other hesitantly and whisper among themselves as the other Townspeople gawp on. Widow Milkwomen Marie and Mary step forward.

The three heroines stalk off out of the Great Chapel without a word while the rest of the Town gawp in continued silence. The Milkwomen are clueless as to how they will catch the murderer but after much thought, they decide to use the remaining Milkmen as bait to draw the killer out.

Unbeknownst to two Milkmen, they are led to a secluded shack that has been vacant for a long time by the Milkwoman Mary while Milkwomen Myrtle and Marie keep watch nearby. The Milkmen are confused but are placated the moment they see heaps of Beef in the Shack.

Mary joins Myrtle and Marie and they hide in place, waiting for the Murderer to turn up. They start feeling light-headed and heavy-lidded when a cow ambles in, it chews on grass and moves closer to the Shack, another cow turns up and they start mooing at each other. The women think nothing of the cacophonic incomprehensible symphony -- they're just cows after all.

More cows turn up as the girls are about to fall into a stupor. All three agree to leave the men with the cows, they believe the cows will protect the men eating Beef. So the three trudge back to the Town between yawns and sighs.

There is a loud wailing from one of the houses, all the lights are on and people are looking out of their windows. There has been another murder! Milkwoman Mory wails and hurls at the sight of her blooded husband, the authorities try to calm her down and ask what happened but Mory is too distraught and traumatized to tell; furthermore, her wails make her vowels and consonants close to indecipherable.

The two milkwomen whose husbands they lent to the Heroines in the Shack are wide-eyed in terror as the Heroines turn up empty-handed. Marie smiles at them to let them know their husbands are fine.

There is a distinct difference in this murder. Words have been carved onto Mory's husband's chest. Smudged, gaudy, messy words which seem to say 'STAY AWAY'.

There is a loud Moo as Myrtle, Marie and Mary fly out of the house and back to the Shack.

The cows are gone but there is an eerie echo of Moos in the area. It is an ominous sign, Myrtle, Marie and Mary enter the shack in dread.

The Milkmen are dead. There is still a stack of Beef on the table, it is drenched in blood that was not there before. Semi-digested meat is piled and churned in their ripped stomachs, the same with ever milkman but there are words carved on both their chests.

Told you so. HA HA.

There is a Moo in the distance.

The End.

***

That was really crappy, I know. I'll write better stuff when I've got the TIME.

This was adapted and edited from Jack the Ripper's Case File.

This Blovie is a Pokey Hokey Original.

School Tomorrow

2006-06-25T10:50:00.000+08:00

DIE

Waste of Cyber Space

2006-06-22T22:18:00.000+08:00

Have you ever glimpsed your MSN Contact List, done a double take and stared at it for awhile, wondering why on earth you keep those contacts in your list when you almost NEVER talk to them and what on earth they're still doing on your list; bearing oh-so-intriguing quotes which usually are a pitiful cry for someone to actually talk to them?

I have. Funny thing is, I never actually got down to deleting those Saphrophytic Contacts -- Contacts that latch onto your list and suck the space out of them, creating an unsightly void resembling that of Something Indescribably Grisly. You get what I mean.

Perhaps it's a Psycological Need for a person to feel popular or having a decent mass of friends that you never talk to when you look at that LONG list of Contacts.

Or maybe it's a Human Compelling to Gather and Store to prepare for the inevitable Tomorrow, though I can't imagine what Pixellated Contacts that Never Talk can do in the face of Disaster.

Reminds me alot of Friendster Menaces. How strangers add strangers, exchange a few greetings and testimonials, add them to their Glorified Friend List and eventually forget their existence.

Friendship really has become like Carbon-Dioxide -- unhelpful to the development of an individual, and polluting Cyber Space.

Friends are precious, yo! Why're friends being dispensed like Free Water? You don't have a greater life just because you've got a HUGE Contact List, neither do you get rich from a wide circle of acquaintances!

What is the POINT? Psycological Gratification?

People, cherish your Real Friends, they're the ones who will really be there for you when you really need them. And stop bloody wasting your OWN Cyber Space!

As for me, I'm off to delete 3/4 of my Contact List.

Or maybe I'll do it tomorrow.

Nightmares

2006-06-22T13:33:00.000+08:00

The last week of the "Mid-year Vacation", the beginning of the End of my Sanity.

I'm tired, stressed and fat from Homework, studying, late nights and crap food without exercise.

Junk + Homework + Stress = FAT FAT FAT

It's a proven theory. Work causes stress with leads to a Need for Comfort. The Need for Comfort comes in the form on Crap Food in a thriving economical era where Crap Food is convenient, light-weight and nicely packaged. They also come with highly illusive Nutrition Facts which encourage delusion of Better Judgement. Potato Chips with zero fats? I'll give them Zero Fats!

I need a NICE LONG REAL BREAK. My dreams, of late, are plagued by Monster Textbooks that threaten to permanently deplete my brain cells, Evil Teachers that lock students up in unventilated classrooms, starve them and force nasty IQ broths and facts and figures down our parched throats, stacks of Bounded Paper which heap higher than The Heavens Above containing indecipherable black marks, large circular red marks and a hopeless mass of Blanks.

Doesn't help that I bunk with these culprits and possess a skull stuffed with tedious facts and evil figures while drifting into Oblivion.

Still, I'll slog on for Judgement Month, where my hardwork will be put to test and my skull will be milked for all its worth.

Shopping

2006-06-19T12:06:00.000+08:00

I remember that. A nong nong time ago, when I was much younger and constantly hyperactive, I liked dashing about Toy-R-Us, eyes wide with excitement and ecstacy, short pudgy feet carrying me as fast as they could go, fingers flying faster than Light in all directions; pointing at something pretty or begging for the thing that caught my eye.

Frustrated parents/relatives in toll, I wouldn't spend more than 10 seconds in one aisle, 20 if the aisle had more than 1 item that I fancied oggling at. Yes. Eager as I was, I wouldn't get the toy I wanted, so Toy-Shopping became Window-Shopping of the Toddler Kind -- the Eyes breathe in the stuff which will be applied to Imaginary Games later.

Then I grew. I lost interest in princess dresses and Botox Barbies, I found love with Testosterone-ish Things instead. I started looking at the best Roller-Blades and the Bulls' Basketballs. Moudy was exasperated -- her daughter was ALMOST a carbon-copy of her son, albeit the difference in Hair Length.

At 14, I started noticing Girl Stuff again, things like nice dresses, skirts, clothes, bags but the phase didn't last long. Shopping lost its appeal eventually.

A long time ago I could last a WHOLE day of flitting about aisles and walking about malls and still be able to jump about and organize the Goods of the Day when I returned home.

Now? Shopping is like a Horrible Nightmare of perfumed air and body aches. Even the exhaustion I experience after a 2.4km run cannot be rivalled with that of a few hours of shopping. It's PURE CRUEL TORTURE. Getting home from shopping nowadays sees me slumped in bed with the meagre amount of buys scattered on the ground, left to rot til the next millenium when I wake.

Blame the age. Old girls can't take the strain of shopping on their untrained bodies. If I possessed a Super Brain like that of Einstein, I wouldn't waste it on Silly Inventions like the Lightbulb, I'd be figuring a way of Shopping without Strain. But, hey, Einstein already created the Lightbulb, and his brain is probably rotted to dust. Tough Luck me.

There is one thing I've never lost that old flame for -- BAGS. I've always LOVED bags. Etymologically speaking, I've probably got a Bag Fetish. But that's for me to decide. I guess some things stay sweet with age, much like them Evergreens (:

It

2006-06-17T17:34:00.000+08:00

It sat on the concrete, quiet, unblinking gaze straight ahead. An eerie silent symphony to the black clouds crawling across the white sky. A stark contrast which reflected that of its face. A malevolent wave of shadow crept up the road, engulfing everything in its path.

It stared. So serene, so ... invisible, that opened umbrellas and scurrying feet failed to notice it, heeled boots and Chapman shoes yelled their greetings that echoed across the street, thought of it as a hallucination of a tired day.

The street was void except for rusting cars and scattered posts and papers. Except for it. Eyes widened as the first drop of rain came. Then, it faded. Slowly, but surely. Such that the boy peeking out the window, curious of The Pattering Noise, was mesmerized, and thought it was more than his imagination.

scientifically speaking

2006-06-15T14:05:00.000+08:00

my brain is releasing hormones that are making me feel irritated, but i have a brain, so i will refrain from physical manners of venting annoyance, and resolve the situation scientifically instead.

compare sapien x and sapien y:

physical states

sapien x appears emaciated, sapien y is elephantine

sapien x has a jet black crop of wiry mass that appears to be hair on its head, sapien y has a thick curly crop of wiry mass that appears to be malnutritioned/falsely colored pubic on its head.

sapien x has four eyes, two internal ones for unknown purpose, two external metallic ones to supplement the distinct lack of sight. sapien y also has four eyes. purposes are as listed above, identical to x.

sapien x possesses a lousy excuse of a voice box which produces whiney, facsimilic noises that cause grievous damage to the ear. sapien y possesses a cheap stereo system of a voice box that produces incomprehensible syllables of high decibels at random, and low decibels that can be rivalled with indecipherable gibberish hazardous to brain cells.

sapien x and y differ in physical states to a small extent.

mental states

sapien x possesses the mentality of, what country-people would call, a dirty old man. sapien y possesses identical mind-set, though it claims itself to be "over the stage".

sapien x has abilities likened to an amoeba, an inability to keep to agreements, deals and promises, a blatant surface disregard for rules which displays an innate crave for attention it tries but fails to conceal, an illogical act of ampathy towards vital elements of survival in a ridiculous bid of "coolness", the obstinate belief that its neurones reproduce by binary fission and do not require healthy mental habits. sapien y possesses identical inabilities bordering to the line of denial.

sapien x appears to possess no form of constant, conspicuous intelligence whatsoever as its brain seems to lie in the scrotal sacs of its underloins. though there have been fleeting glimmers of lucid wit, they have been regarded as coincidences or misconstruement of an undefined trait. sapien y possesses latent forms of intelligence which are wilting by the second due to its ignorance of the fact that wit requires exercise, and its false belief that wit will remain dormant in its lard-case and manifest at will. perhaps sapien y's elephantine physical state is a result of its unused elements?

mental states require further examination to define age.

however, it can be perceived that sapien x and y are identical save for their differing physical states. much like isotopes of the same element.

in which my innocence is once again assumed

2006-06-14T20:09:00.000+08:00

"where did he go again? i thought he's supposed to be back tomorrow?"

"his coach let him off because he told him that they had a project to do at [friend]'s house. but, his friend couldn't make it, so he conveniently forgot to tell the coach and came back to play his PS2."

"what!? is that allowed!?"

"i know, so unethical."

"i want to do that too! i wanted to bail on MY camp alot of times!"

"he is very cunning, please don't follow him, keep your innocence."

Barbeque, ME AND YOU!

2006-06-13T23:59:00.000+08:00

Stinky Pinky, Phew phew phew!

***

The Primary School Gathering. What can I say? I had a blast! Oh god. Where do I even start?

I thought it'd be crappola because it was Micheal's very bright idea to hold it at my Condo where there are barely any entertainment facilities for a bunch of over-worked-and-eager-to-release-stress Teenagers. Where we weren't allowed to play ball games on the small patch of balding field. Yadda.

I was frenzied. Over the pit, possible casualties and injuries, cleaning of the area, BOOKING of a nice pit, and all that. If I had eyes on the back of my head, I'd probably be looking through a curtain of sparse white hair.

Met Rebekee and Ian at Westmall, bought Crap Food, and walked back to the Condo where we started off baking muffins. Actually, Rebekee and Ian were the brilliant chefs who baked the muffins. I just squeezed the perfumey mixture, like I would squeeze a Pimple of Pus, onto the little muffin holders.

Those dollops of sugar and fats made me think of Excretae. Which grossed the other two out when I voiced the thought. HEE.

I drifted about the hall, trying to figure out the Chemistry behind Chemistry, and contemplating the Probability of Perforated Muffins that might emerge from the Oven. I thought the Wine in it would catch fire or something, seeing as it's Alcohol and Alcohol is flammable.

But it didn't! What would I do without the Brilliant Chefs Rebekee and Ian?

I'd probably contract Withdrawal Symptoms from getting Drunk on Muffins.

So I sat about talking to the Mice and Myrtle the Hamster while Becky and Ian caught up on Old Times, watched the Incredibles and got freaked by me. Because "it's not normal to speak to rodents".

I got bored with them canoodling about, though I REALLY think they look REALLY good together, and went off to the Computer and talked to the Mice and made flaming pentagrams with matchsticks and joined Ian and Rebecca's enlightening conversation about orgasms.

Benjamin arrived, we laughed about then we went down to the Barbeque Pit.

After much miscommunication and misplacement, the Barbeque was in full swing.

Because my Condo is so bloody strict with residential restrictions (No playing ball games on the field? C'mon!), and there was a shortage of entertainment resources, the guys ended up playing Cards at the table. And those who weren't interested with betting away their Handphones just cooked and brought them food.

I think it was tres fascinating. Watching the fire burn through the coal, CONTRIBUTING TO GLOBAL WARMING, cackling at Benjamin trying to maneuvre the sausages without severing their heads, grinning away as Rebecca got cooked alive, playing with the thought of shoving the tall-guys-who-were-once-shorter-than-me into the freezing pool.

: hi, i see you've grown
: yes, i see you haven't
: SHUT UP

And they're getting very cheeky too. Though I think cheeky would be an understatement. Oh god, they were SO tiny and scrawny and small-fryish the last time I saw them. AM I SHRINKING !? Oh god god goddy god.

I went mad from boredom after awhile (I actually found joy in fanning Rebecca to prevent a Live Human Combustion from happening!) and started berserking about. Which stunned Becky, Samuel, Joseph and Benjamin.

And we were having so much good clean PEACEFUL fun then Micheal had to start the Water Bomb War and practically everyone ended up getting wet. Samuel, Micheal and Jerome pushed themselves into the pool through some genius wit when the general idea was to just get micheal wet.

Yes, so I was having loads of DRY fun lolling about, bringing the stuff upstairs to prepare for the World Cup when the whole group of them bombarded me with water bombs and I got soaked to the skin. I must've been hit by, what, 8, 9 bombs? I didn't see it coming because all of them were looking at me so innocently when I returned.

PHOOEY.

me: will you guys hurry up? i'm going miss the Season Finale of Charmed!
boys: where is the toilet? we want to use the hot bath
me: the furobath? are you mad? do you even know how to use it? you could be cooked alive in hot water or one of your body parts could die and become black or something
boys: we are 16, we know!
me: whatever. have fun killing your toe cells.

So I brought the rest of the people up instead of waiting for the Numquats kill their body cells, sitting around like Idiots doing nothing.

We sat about watching Charmed, waiting for the boys to satisfy themselves with Cell-killing. And I suddenly wanted to be a Witch. HEE. They came up eventually to watch the World Cup and I retreated to my room to do some Biology Homework.

I don't comprehend the logic of chasing a dirty ball, risk life and limb, only to kick it away when you get it. And that guy in the black shirt who's always blowing on the whistle and screaming? He NEVER gets the ball. I mean, whatup with that?

Checked on them occasionally to make sure no one was dead or grievously injured in a tragic turn of Football Events or something.

The guys started getting very intrigued by Myrtle's obesity and Mouse Heart Attacks and wondering if they could feed Pizza to a Mouse so they could watch a Mouse having Heart Attack. ZiPing was amused by the idea, and she LOVED the baby mice.

Sigh. I wonder when I'll get to see them again.

***

do you believe in Karma?
that what goes around comes around thing? yeah i suppose. you reap what you sow.
sigh. yeah. maybe that's why i'm having a crappola time in secondary school.

***

Bruddy is back from Camp. Oh HALLELUJAH praise the Lord. Two days of Blissful Peace was short-lived. Good things NEVER last. NEVER.

Hell hath no despair like I feel.

Two strangers

2006-06-12T18:42:00.000+08:00

The Workshop was dreadfully boring. I wouldn't call it a workshop, it was just a horribly monotonous lecture that sapped the life out of me.

What I learnt? NOTHING. Okay fine I'll give the committee who organized the Lecture some credit. I learnt that a dreadfully boring lecture can really suck the life out of you, and that I should be screaming for a refund the next time a teacher says,"The Workshop is going to be very good!".

I can't believe I paid $20++ for a worksheet of notes. That will probably go on my list of 'The Most Expensive Something I Own'.

So a whole hour of the lecture consisted of Hairy Stars, random poems and lyrics, yawns and People-Watching. Courtesy of Yours Truly and Her Old Friend (:

I suppose I'll just look through the Notes that cost $20+ later. Read it for what it's worth. Hey, I may be daft, but I've got enough sense to milk something for all its worth.

***

Silly Little Games

becky: is that Alvin?
me: who's Alvin?
becky: my church friend
me: where is he? who are you looking at?
becky: i won't tell you
me: HI ALVIN! wherever you are
becky: hi alvin
me: hi alvin, bye alvin
becky: *palmface*
alvin: *weird look*

me: ohmygod look at that pigeon, it's so cute! see how it walks!
becky: oh goodness, don't--
me: *imitates and bobs head around and waddles*
becky: *embarrassed*

becky: ooh! we can play hide-and-seek around the condo!
me: hide-and-seek? heh?
becky: yeah, we can extend the hiding places to all the floors!
me: er, there're like 3 blocks and 30 levels each? the chance of finding one person will be like 1 in 90?
becky: yeah, so it's more fun!
me: what about the poor seeker?
becky: there can be five seekers!
me: but it's still 90 places...
becky: they're not going into the resident's houses you know?
me: oh

me: isn't it great to have such a psychotic friend you can be mad with?
becky: what?
me: nothing
becky: a friend can be mad?
me: no, isn't it great to have such a psychotic friend you can be mad with? i mean if you're friends with someone who's so proper, it'd be so boring. you'll always have to act normal around that person.
becky: wow, you've got a friend to vent your psychocism on and not be embarrassed, i must be a very good friend.

becky: you know i'm just waiting for it to happen
me: but why? it's so...
becky: can't help it, it'll probably happen, the only thing is it might not be mutual.
me: how do you know?
becky: because he told me?
me: you can't control matters of the heart

***

Two good friends on a bus, rendered drowsy in the Afternoon Sun, daggers of light penetrating the Panel of Glass, coming to rest on their bodies. Two girls, catching up with time lost to stress, relationships and distance. Broaching topic after topic of barely articulated secrets. Two friends, lapsing into gradual silence. Each caught in her own world of thoughts, whirling and swirling like leaves in the wind. Two strangers beside each other, delving deep in a cacophony of memories.

***

Barbeque tomorrow! I can't wait!

Eventually

2006-06-10T17:19:00.000+08:00

10 years ago:
I like clycops! He got nice X ray!

5 years ago:
X men? Yeah. It's cool. Which power would you have if you could choose?

Now:
Don't ask me that kind of question, it's so childish!

Sigh. Sometimes I just wish people never grow older. We tend to disregard the elements that provided us with joy a decade ago. Sometimes I'm guilty I take some things for granted, thinking it'll never leave me.

Truth is, it leaves us all .. eventually.

Foreign Unknown Noun

2006-06-09T00:55:00.000+08:00

I can't feel the keys under my stiff fingers, nor the chair I am currently slumped in. My bones are screeching blue murder, and my hips feel as if they'll be disintegrating any minute.

But it was all for a good cause of FUN. An indulgence of the Past that has become a Foreign Unknown Noun as of late. Yes. I had an exhilarating and DESTRESSING day with my class. Or rather, less than half the class. I can't believe I survived about 2 hours of insane roller-blading at the Beach!

You know, I did think the whole outing was going to be a Disaster after the brilliant Class Chairman told me that there had been a ~~VERY VERY LAST MINUTE~~ change of plans -- we were not picnic-ing anymore, we would be crashing at McDonald's the WHOLE day instead. Of course, a million things went through my flabberghasted head, some of which were OHMYGOD we are going to stone at Mac's ALL DAY stuffing Mac's food down our systems !? and HELLO !? Even a Fry Fanatic like me would be appalled by the very idea of munching on fries ALL DAY !

So overreacted little me went to bed a tad bit irritated.

The next day, I lazed about in bed till the 10th hour, contemplating the possibility of me going for the supposedly disastrous Class Outing -- which contributed to my being late. Then I decided, What the heck, I'll just go. I need a break from work anyway.

I didn't regret my decision to drag myself out of Blissful Oblivion's Embrace to go for the Outing, as it turned out, IT WAS IMMENSELY INDESCRIBABLY MIND-BLOWING.

We played Truth&Dare by the rolling waves, frolicked about in the Merry Sea, picked Pretty Shells and went Roller-Blading and Cycling in the Light Rain. Like, HELLO!? How often do I get to do that ? This has probably been the first time in years that I've strapped on Blades and gone swishing down the tar aisles of the Beach. The feeling of cool air caressing my face, the occasional strong wind that fought against us, the steady drop of rain-water .. vindicating, I tell you.

Absolutely MAGICAL (:

I haven't Roller-Bladed in about four years, but today, I realised I still love it alot.

The weight on my shoulders seems to have vanished. My heart feels lighter than it's been in a long time (:

CHARMED

2006-06-06T23:41:00.000+08:00

NOOOO !! IT CAN'T BE ! I JUST CAN'T TAKE IT !! PHOEBE AND PAIGE DIES !! NOOOOOOO !!! TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK !! OHMYGOD. I AM GOING TO DIE FROM THE SUSPENSE . THEY CANNOT DIE . OH GODDY GOD . THE CHARMED LIFE IS SO CRUEL .

Split Personalities

2006-06-04T11:21:00.000+08:00

How do you measure a year that's gone by so quickly ?

By the number of Heart Breaks I've had?
Or the amount of Homework?
Perhaps the number of emails I've changed,
or the number of blog posts.

Maybe the amount of tears I've shed,
Or the number of times I've brooded of the past in the solace of my room.
How much weight have I gained?
How little fats I've lost.

Argh. I hate it when I get in reflective mood, a thousand and one questions that'd make the O level examiner's blush pop up in my head like pop-corn popping in a pan -- disordered, random and rapid. PHOOEY.

All because of Renee's show. Though I'm glad she invited me, it was like a Therapist Session. And I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Maybe Mental Institutions should counsel their clients in that manner. It might be more effective than just sitting in a dreary, brightly-lit air-conditioned room, playing mind games and tossing Question Balls at each other. More fun, more money! It provokes thought and makes time run faster than the Road Runner.

You know, maybe IMH should hire Tapestry Playback to conduct Mass Therapy Sessions for them. Hmm, just a thought.

If my life were a Movie, it'd probably be titled 'Split Personalities' or 'Living a Lie' ? HAHA.

Though, after some thought, I don't think diplomatic and political is that paradoxical afterall. I mean Diplomats have a Political Origin don't they ? So they'll be able to keep the peace between two political groups. I mean you can't just get any Jilly, Billy or Hilly Roy from the Streets without any Political background to negotiate Peace between countries can you ? He should, in the least, have an understanding of how Politics work, shouldn't he?

WHO AM I?

I am a hormonal teenager
I see Daniel Radcliffe/Elijah Wood
I hear my heart hyperventilating and the oh-so-familiar rush of adrenaline
I want Daniel Radcliffe/Elijah Wood
I am dismayed I can't have them because they don't even know I exist and they live in a Land Far Far Away

Oh god. That was so random. I must be losing it.

But the question is, what am I really losing ?

***
Forgive me if I stutter
From all of the clutter in my head
Cuz I could fall asleep in those eyes
Like a water bed
Do I seem familiar
I've crossed you in hallways a thousand times
No more camouflage, I want to be exposed
And not afraid to fall

Long Night

2006-06-03T11:14:00.000+08:00

A Wonderful Night of Barbequeing with the Cambodia 06 team. A splendid way to end a Horrible Week, tons of laughter, enjoyment and ... FATS. The Fish Balls were Oil Balls, the Beef was just Lard, Chicken Wings were Greasy Wings and the Sausages were barbequed with barbeque sauce.

Though I still don't get the logic behind Barbequeing Something with Barbeque Sauce. I mean, why do you have to barbeque something that's already Barbequed ? Double Dose of Barbeque ?

Surprisingly, there wasn't any dunking. Though there was tons of scaring that went around which included Snails and Ghosts. Then there was the .. erm, new-age Swinging Competition.

I was having so much fun then The Parents had to cruelly rip me from the Embrace of Laughter and Joy.

Last night, I came home to Physics. After finishing two chapters on Heat, I lapsed into mellow-nostalgia mode. Leaving ether to later thought, I dove deep into my Treasure Trunk of Memories.

Without realizing, my head started playing a Movie of the earlier parts of my Secondary School Life. 12am 8 months ago I was bed-ridden and horribly sick, 9am 12 months ago I was breathing in the splendid view of Huang Shan, which is what the Sec 3s are probably doing right now, 11am 18 months ago ...

Sigh. It's been a Long Night.

***

18 years had come and gone
For Mama they flew by
But for me they drug on and on

We were loading up the Chevy
Both trying not to cry
Mama kept on talking
Putting off Goodbye

Then she took my hand and said
Hey Baby don't forget

Before you hit the Highway
You better stop for Gas
There's a fifty in the Ash Tray
In case you run short on Cash
Here's a map and here's a bible
If you ever lose your way

Just one more thing before you leave
Don't forget to remember me

End of the Week

2006-06-02T18:59:00.000+08:00

So the week has ended. And so have the ~~lessons as per normal~~ extra lessons. Except for the earlier dismissals, ~~heavily~~ altered timetable, NO CHINESE, and not wearing school uniforms, I'd say this ain't a Break from School at all.

While the Sec 1s are busy contemplating their navels, WE are mugging our asses off. While the Sec 2s are having the time of their lives down town, WE are rushing off all our homework to give time for our revision, and while the Sec 3s are mooching about away in China on their Exchange Trip, WE are dragging ourselves from Mental Oblivion into another borish day of borish lessons filled with borish facts that will be of insignificant use to our future should we choose not to walk that line -- let's face it, who cares how Land is sustained as long as we've got something to live on? And, really, I couldn't bother less about how the different types of radiation will affect me; sure they might change my whole DNA structure, but, don't they have 'Radioactive' signs nowadays?

So long as I stay FAR away, I'll be fine, won't I?

GAH. It hasn't been a very good week.

A Weed in Every Flower

2006-05-30T17:12:00.000+08:00

How can something so beautiful be called a Weed ?

Pure injustice and jealousy. PHOOEY.

Something Crappy this way comes

2006-05-30T16:02:00.000+08:00

I can't watch Football Hooligans because it's too violent. Right. So I suppose WWE and Friday the 13th are Pleasantly PG and suitable for toddlers.

***

Brain cringed, nose recoiled, skin crawling, lips twisted into a repelled grimace. The Stink. OH THE STINK. But she was brave, VERY brave. Risking permanent damage to ALL her senses (including her sixth) she ventured forward through the colorless, pungent, thick gas that hung like a poisonous cloud, suffocating unknowing entities who walked into their midst.

She peered over the edge of the Source, and glimpsed a saturated concoction that should not have been there, and tell-tale smears on the sides which very obviously indicated what had happened not long before. The Bomb had been detonated, and she was suffering from its Intoxicating Effects. Something so lethally Crappy that it threatened her very existence and her Ancestors.

Seeing The Light, she lightning-bolted out of the tainted terrain, FAR FAR away from The Light. She was not ready for The Light yet, though she had, like many others, wondered what really lay beyond it. Now that she had had such a narrow shave with The Light, she realized, dreadfully curious or not, it would not be a very nice thing to Meet her Maker in such an awful, unglamarous manner.

Bursting into Safe ground, she drew breath and clawed the air with a vengeance unlike any woman hath scorned.

"JON! Did you poop just now? I CAN SMELL IT! AND IT'S HORRIBLE! Next time you should hang a sign on the door after you have done your Business that says 'Engaged for the Next 3 Hours'!"

What had she done to deserve a Terrorist of a Son?

Cheena Free

2006-05-29T21:47:00.000+08:00

NO MORE CHINESE NO MORE CHINESE NO MORE CHINESE

Praise Ye Mother Macaroni! Chinese O Levels are over! HALLELUJAH! I can now look forward to a WHOLE month of rest and recuperation from six tormentious months. A WHOLE Cheena Free month of well-deserved R&R from six excruciatingly tormentious months.

But alas, every morsel of hope for my wonderful yet-to-be-planned month has been dashed by The Extra Lessons. Yes. The Extra Lessons. For the Love of Mother Macaroni -- EXTRA LESSONS! It's practically Lessons as per Normal, albeit the slightly altered Timetable which blatantly states consecutive HOURS of the SAME subject (!!!) Hmm ... Ominous Sign ...

I feel I might be in for a Universityesque Lecture in which Students will be obliged to sit through long hours of monotonous, uneventful lecturing by an Ancient Professor (probably). Though I don't think we, the Secondary Students, will be given the same priviledge as the Universitarians as to leave thy lecture as thy please.

Oh Joyous Vacation, filled with Fun and Excitement.

MugWort

2006-05-27T13:26:00.000+08:00

I didn't realize how Mad Mugging can be so dreadfully excruciating. I'm probably getting these stomachaches from the Stress. AND THE FRIGGIN' PIMPLES TOO! Not to mention the constantly unconstant Mood Swings.

But this is it. The real thing. The Great Big O. I don't think I'm ready, but I haven't got much of a choice. ~~D*** THEM CHEENA PEOPLE!~~

The week has been pretty uneventful. Been leeching close to a Newly Established Routine -- Sleep, Wake, CHINESE, Eat, CHINESE, Sleep, Wake, Eat, CHINESE ... Utterly disregarding the Bodily Need for Vitamin D (or E?) which would otherwise be attained from a Healthy ~~fry in the sun~~ exposure to Sunlight.

I realize I'll probably flunk Chinese (as usual) with a big fat F but, you know, it's never mortally damaging to hope for the best. So I'm hoping for the Best (:

If I were president, of First Lady, I would make Chinese an Illegal, forbidden code used only by Terrorists threatening the existence of fellow Beings. Anybody breaching the law will be punished severely in the form of Raw Skin and Pickled Salt Water. And that'd just be the beginning.

Yes. I know. I am violent. I've been told.

Untitled

2006-05-24T23:10:00.000+08:00

Pimple, pimple go away
Come again another day
I don't need you right about now
Pimple, pimple go away

Damn the Empire of Acne!

***

God. I feel so low.

***

I've got a Zanga Weblog. Should I use it? Permanently, I mean? It's kinda troublesome updating this blogger one and that Zanga one. And I think I like Zanga, it's so much more convenient. And I don't always have to create a new blog layout because Zanga's fixed.

Comments ?

The Work Resume

2006-05-20T19:25:00.000+08:00

10 things of school that changed your life:

1. Attending my very first Home Economics Lesson
That was in Secondary 1. I was still a relatively sane and innocent trash-eater. I'd put loads of junk, gunk and garbage food into my tormented Digestive Tract - Coke, Chips, disgustingly Deep-Fried Meat, the like.

Then Ms Cleopatra came along and saved me from my Life of Potentially Lethal Food. She told the class that a can of coke was equivalent to 10 teaspoons of Sugar (!!!), a bowl of Laksa was made from 10 teaspoons of oil, and alot more gruesome facts along that line. It was a shocking revelation though the rest of the class seemed to be stoical and bored by the news that had started manifesting itself in my consciousness and affected practically everything I did after that.

I was fairly contented co-existing with my Trashy Counterparts. Then she came along and shattered our beautiful world.

From then on, I transmorgrified into a neurotic nit-picking nutcase whenever it came to food. I would be traumatized for days from glimpsing a Coke Can and get nightmares from a small waft of Laksa Gas. So much so that I was reduced to a bare minimum of Edible Food - the kind that people would call Rabbit Food.

Home Econs changed my eating habits, which altered my personality because, afterall, 'You are what you eat'.

2. The ~~corrupted~~ Counsel System
A few months into Secondary School and I realized the Counsel System was largely based and built on Favouritism and not Meritocracy or Democracy. The Counsel churned out crapola Pseudo-Leaders who booked people they did not like, and blinded themselves to the heinous crimes of their friends.

I had always thought Counsellors were supposed to be the Matyrs of the Academic Jail, but I was merde wrong. They weren't Matyrs, far from it in fact, they were Terrorists. Acting all nice and upright in front of their Benefactors, but detonating bombs quietly within the Social Bridges of the School.

They were experts at Politics and Bribed Protection. Stepping on the Out Crowd for a Bribe of Higher Standing in the In Crowd. Spreading rumours they were supposed to quell. There wasn't much in the school to turn to after that.

The people who were supposed to Counsel, brought about the Need for Counselling instead. After multiple lessons, I closed up. I stopped looking up to these Corrupted Cads with Respect. I stopped telling people more than they should know. Afterall, the Counsellors possessed a Force of Many Spies and Two-faced Followers.

The Counsel System changed my perspective on the Credibility of Authority such that I took to challenging and disregarding their orders if I could. I became a paranoid, defiant person who stopped relying on the Big People. F*** Counsel!

3. The Doyenness
When will she ever learn that doing things her own way and constantly preaching propaganda will only pave her a road closer to Damnation?

4. The CCA
Where all Memories Good and Bad remain etched in my head. The plays, interactions and exercises taugh me alot about Life. Like how I can fake my way through an Intellectual Conversation which I know merde about, how to keep a straight face my my insides are writhing with laughter, how to improvise with a bare minimum of resources, to come up with impromptu speeches sprinkled with Drama for Appealing Measure.

Changed my life, really. Those experiences that remain close to my heart. Even the teachers. Those were the times that changed my mind-set and way of thinking. And pretty much helped me merde my way through Life and School.

5. The Acquaintances and the Friends
I suppose one will inevitably be affected by the way people act towards them and around them. Even after a short period of time, one will still be influenced by one's environment, and I guess that's how everyone's world merges.

My opinions changed with the people. The look on Cool, Uncool, Nasty, Nice etc culminated from four years of Social Interaction and Observation.

Cool is being 'unenthu', Cool is not bothering about your school work, even if it means flunking your whole Semester and getting a red mark on your Report Card, Cool is being Hostile towards a fellow human being, letting your heart degenerate, just so you can climb up a rung in the Social Ladder, Cool is unconciously likening yourself to that of Hitler, commiting genocide to adhere to Requirements of Society. Nasty is being picked on but it's Nice if you can pick on someone else, Nasty is a teacher reprimanding you for being tardy in your homework, but it's Nice if you can retort or insult a teacher for an unintentional mistake on print.

Yes, I can honestly say my life has been greatly moulded by Societal Jargon.

6. The Guy
I had always thought Boys were just a childish, undeveloped Sub-species of Homo Sapiens, but I came to realise that they aren't a sub-species afterall, but a whole species of Highly Sexed-Up Creatures who think with their Underloins.

7. The Break Ups
Four years in Secondary School and I've had a fugzillion of people walking in and out of my life. Friends who have become invisible, acquaintances who fade in the background but make distinct appearances once in awhile, people who've made me bawl my eyeballs out, and people I've made bawl their eyeballs out, friends turned acquaintances who drifted away with time, people that make me question the validity of 'friendship' and its reliability. It's been an unstable tabernacle of relationships that's forced me into accepting the statement,"Friends come and go, but Families are forever.". I suppose it's the painful lessons that makes one grasp reality. The more break ups I've had, the more I learnt to treasure what I've left so that it's become a Herculean task to let go of something that I hold dear to my heart.

8. The War
As the Adults and real Politicians fought their war abroad, war ensued in the School. I suppose it's some Psyco-Kinesis thing that goes on in the Heads of the War Lords. Wannabe Politicians and Power Hungry Leaders of the School sent forth their Armies, Spies and Saboteurs like America would to Iran. Such that the innocents are caught in the cross-fire and lose their lives, property and/or friends/family. People get jaded and harrowed during war from the loss and chaos - so I guess it happens within the small municipality of the school too. People who are completely uninvolved are inevitably hauled into the middle of the Battlefield and left to fend for themselves after they've been used. What better reason to not get Jaded ? Can't the Heads of State see the Mini Wars brewing within the Safe Havens of the Country ?

Really made me realize that there's no such thing as World Peace, and there will be no such thing until we learn to give alittle Love. I reckon the contestants of Beauty Pageants should stop giving fake smiles with their Q&A questions of "World Peace" and start giving real, constructive and useful suggestions TO World Peace.

9. The Christians and the Churchtians
There are the people who proclaim their devotion to the Almighty by adhering to the laws of the Bible and there are people who proclaim their devotion to the Almighty by stating they go to Church. The Latter gives a pretty bad name to Christianity because usually they are the ones who think going to Church once or twice a week is enough to supplement their addiction to Hypocrisy and finding Loop Holes in Christianity. And the major part of my school lives by the principles of Churchtianity. Which, of course, made me doubt the credibility of the Bible and the religion itself because, hey, I spent a large part of my teenagehood dwelling among these Churchtians and witnessing the garbage they churn from the Bible and their Hearts. So I stopped believing in the Omnipotent One, and led a Religion of my own, with my own rules and principles. Believer count? 1. But that's enough for me (:

10. The Teachers
Some of them have been so wonderful and tolerant these four years of my Secondary School Life that I've been inspired and encouraged countless of times to fight for my rights and what I believe in, and also to not give up on my studies though my results should be used for Toilet Paper. But their rapid ageing and frustration has also made me rethink the possiblity of working with Humans when I grow up. So I made up my mind to work with Animals instead. The teachers made me see the Humanity in Animals, and the Beastiality in Humans. That'd really affect your life if you have loved Animal and Plants since you were born and had very unpleasant experiences with Humans one too many times.

Grades

2006-05-20T12:39:00.000+08:00

Well I can't say I did splendidly well for my MYE's. I think I've flunked it badly in fact. Average grade's a 'C', and that is just ghastly for a Triple Science student, as The Principal would, so eloquently, say.

No progress or change whatsoever on the Screeching Flagpole front. It still screeches like Banshees on a roll, and, if my ears aren't already failing me, the screech goes something like,'Faaaaarrrrrkkkkk!'. But then again, it could just be my overactive imagination. Or the damage the screeching flagpole have done to my ears.

There's a consolation: they've gotten a guy who would make a wonderful Soupe Opera Singer to sing the national anthem. NO MORE HIGH-PITCHED SCREECHY FEMALE VOICES! Instead, a low, soothing melodious male voice - perhaps the first male I've come across who is able to sing the National Anthem without resembling a Budgie - that's music to my ears (:

Now it's a more pleasant prospect of Morning Assembly that I look forward to. Tres pathetico.

Morning Assembly ... ahh, the horror and the pain. Such a cruel mistress, keeping us under the blazing sun, tormenting us with her lovely voice, eating into the first period. She deserves a Pedestal, she should.

One Hour

2006-05-19T23:37:00.000+08:00

till my freedom and inner-peace will be wrenched roughly away from my conciousness, till Bruddy returns from OBS.

I'm waiting. So I'll do the Tag Thing on Becky's blog to kill time.

1. Myrtle the Mad Hamster
2. Angelle the Mouse Mynx
3. Becky
4. Eug
5. Ben Long
6. Bruddy
7. Brandon
8. Samantha
9. Sherlyn
10. Renee
11. Fiona
12. Stanley
13. Jeremy
14. Rachel MENG
15. Isaac
16. Micheal
17. Ryann
18. Samuel
19. Teresa
20. YaRong

a. How did you meet number 14 ?
When we were posted to the same class in school.

b. what would you be if you never met number 1 ?
Er. I'd be relatively uninjured and bite-free? And I'd be a lonely old hamsterless lass, constantly blowing grumpily into my wrinkled old hankee.

c. what would you do if 20 and 9 dated ?
OH MY. That'd be the Scandal of the Century. I'd feel weird that my sisters are, er, lezbo.

d. would 6 and 17 make a good couple ?
OH GOD NO. I don't think so. 6 would be ragging at 17 all day and 17 would annoy the poop out of Bruddy.

e. describe number 3 .
She is...unusual. HAHAHAHA. Mad, pretty, fashionistic, fun, sentimental, considerate...

f. do you think no 8 is attractive ?
Yes. She's definitely cute, minus the ugly (:

g. tell me something abt no 7 .
Er. Actually I don't know that much about him. He's...tolerant, I guess?

h. do you know anything about no. 12's family ?
Er. Not really. He's got a dog, a sister, erm, that's it I think.

i. what's no 8's favourite ?
Cute Guys? Coffee? Chocolate? Music?

j. what would you do if no 11 confesses that he/she likes you ?
Well if she doesn't like me, how can we be good friends!?

k. what language does no 15 speak ?
English, I suppose, and Chinese. And maybe alittle bit gibberish. HAHA.

l. who is no 9 going out with ?
Good question.

m. how old is 16 now ?
15. Going on 16. HIS BIRTHDAY'S THE SAME AS HARRY POTTER'S!!!!! OMGMOTHERMACARONIOFHOLYINFANTPASTA.

n. when was the last time you talked to 13 ?
Yesterday.

o. who's no 2's favourite singer ?
Angelle the Mouse Mynx? The Music of Food I suppose.

p. would you date no 4 ?
I don't think so.

q. would you date no 7 ?
I don't think so.

r. is no 15 single ?
I suppose so. I think he might be attached to Grace. But who knows?

s. what's no 10's last name ?
Chua. Renee Chua.

t. would you ever consider being in a relationship with no. 19 ?
I am not Lezbo.

u. what school does no 3 go to ?
Crescent (:

v. where does no 6 live ?
Just a flight of stairs above me. UNFORTUNATELY.

w. what's your favourite thing about no 5 ?
He's...goofy? HAHAHAHAHA.

Gosh. I really don't know that many people, do I? I've really drifted.

Wherever you will go

2006-05-19T23:32:00.000+08:00

So lately, I've been wondering
Who will be there to take my place
When I'm gone, you'll need love
To light the shadows on your face
If a great wave should fall
It would fall upon us all
And between the sand and stone
Could you make it on your own

If I could, then I would
I'll go wherever you will go
Way up high or down low
I'll go wherever you will go

And maybe, I'll find out
The way to make it back someday
To watch you, to guide you
Through the darkest of your days
If a great wave should fall
It would fall upon us all
Well I hope there's someone out there
Who can bring me back to you

If I could, then I would
I'll go wherever you will go
Way up high or down low
I'll go wherever you will go

Runaway with my heart
Runaway with my hope
Runaway with my love

I know now, just quite how
My life and love might still go on
In your heart and your mind
I'll stay with you for all of time

If I could, then I would
I'll go wherever you will go
Way up high or down low
I'll go wherever you will go

If I could turn back time
I'll go wherever you will go
If I could make you mine
I'll go wherever you will go

The Calling

Happy Birthday to Me

2006-05-16T22:22:00.000+08:00

I'm 16. God I feel so old.

The Birthday Letter

2006-05-15T19:38:00.000+08:00

Dear [me],

You turn 16 tomorrow. 16 on the 16th of May 2006. Congratulations, or rather, tres tragique. Scary how time flies, oui? I'm writing from a spectators' POV because I've been sitting by the bleachers your whole life, watching your life unravel like a football game. Rough, painful and full of herbe. But, you know, you've had your memorable touch-downs. So no complaints there, eh?

Though you're turning 16 in approximately five hours' time, you don't feel like it. I suppose it's normal for you, since you've lived the past 15 years of your life solely by gut-feelings and emotion. It would be wonderful to be able to slow time and preserve this Moment of Transition forever, but you ain't the Universal Time Keeper, so, tough luck babe, you gotta keep up.

It's been a mind-blowing teenage-hood. And you're probably looking through your old diaries and photo albums, reliving the immortalized relics once again. Photos that laugh out at you and poems that are so ridiculously silly you can't believe you actually wrote them, they have all contributed to every single atom that make you.

It's time you stop wallowing in self-pity over the most trivial of things, control your freaking emotions and GROW UP. Because you aren't the only living being to walk this earth and some people have had it worse than you. Shouldn't you be glad you've still got a family, a roof over your head and love to spare?

Though Bruddy, sorely missed, won't be around to celebrate your coming-of-age, your migration from adolescence to pseudo-adulthood, and you'd very much appreciate full familial support at this tremulous time, you have to be strong -- for yourself, and for the people around you. It's time you showed some gratefulness for what your friends and family have done for you.

Here's your chance to start on a fresh page of your Tome of Life, like you've always wanted. Burn those bad memories, ('Bonfire at the Balcony' has got a catchy ring to it, don't it?) literally, keep the good times in your heart, if you want, and forget the past. Watch your way and DON'T BURN THE WHOLE APARTMENT DOWN FOR SWEET SAINTS' SAKES!

And, last of all, send your love to all those who've been wonderful to you for the past 15 years of your life and put up with every single one of your idiosyncracies.

Here's a mouse to your 16th year on Earth. Cheerio! :D

Yours in Mind, Body and Soul,
You.

P.S. God, I sound like you're 50 or about to die or something. Geez Louez, I should stop dramatizing every single thing that comes my way. Or I'm going to start appearing Histrionic.

P.P.S. Merry 16th!

P.P.P.S. Oh God, I think I've snapped. I can't believe I'm writing a letter to myself!

More precious than Toadstools...

2006-05-13T22:34:00.000+08:00

Movie with Becky was fun, Russell came along. I just realized that it's the Primary School Outings that stay etched in my memory. Somehow, it's more memorable. I suppose it's the rarity of it that makes it more precious than Mushroom Fairies and [title].

It's fun, though there's awkward moments and silences sometimes, but they remain close to my heart <3 I'm a vintage!

Retarding..
me: hallow russell, i see you've grown.
becky: *stares* obviously he's grown!?

Embarrassing..
(in DARK cinema)
me: oh god, i can't see, is this it? is this the seat? oh goddy god.
becky: i think it is..
me: is this it?
becky: yeah
me: is it?
becky: YES
me: is this it?
becky: SIT!

Informative..
becky: great, there's a tall person sitting in front of me.
me: mwahaha! i can see properly! do you wanna switch seats?
becky: okay, are you sure you don't mind?
me: yeah, it's okay, i can see, i'm taller than you. HAHAHA.
becky: whatever.
me: just make sure your Russell doesn't try anything funny.
becky: NO he won't! you don't try anything funny on my brother!
me: *gag gag puke puke*

Suspenseful..
me: is she dead? is she dead?
becky: i don't know
me: is she DEAD? is SHE dead?
becky: HOW'D I KNOW!?

Random..
me: hah
russel: SHH!!!!!!
becky: what was that for?
me: i don't know. hahahahaha.

Intellectual..
me: what is a 'rabbit's foot'!? they keep talking about it, what is it!?
becky: i don't know, i think it's some biochemical thing.
me: the label looks nuclear-ish..
russell: no, it's [some bombastic word i can't remember].
me: *stares*
russell: i know it from my computer game
me: right. why am i not surprised?

Nostalgical..
me: ohmygosh i cannot believe we were so.. so..
becky: kookoofied?
me: yeah, i think. i cannot believe we were so.. immature? *laughs*
becky: me neither.

Amusing..
me: is this all the letters you've got?
becky: yes, i'm not a museum you know.

Hilarious..
me: *laughs insanely* what's this letter about? and WHO IS STITCH?!
becky: [name]. YOU used to call him that, remember?
me: ohmygoodness, i did!? and what is this picture of him!? what am i doing!?
becky: you were raping him.
me: god. sick. yeuch. no way.

Shocking..
becky: and that's the one of you and your brother.
me: ohmygoodness, I GAVE YOU THAT!?
becky: *laughs*

SIGH. If only I had a time-machine.

OBS

2006-05-13T11:31:00.000+08:00

Feels weird, for the first time ever, Bruddy won't be around for another coming-of-age. Even when I'm turning 16. (16!!!) The transition between adolescence and pseudo-adulthood. Bruddy won't be around, it really feels weird.

NC16! I cannot believe it. I never ever thought I'd be able to watch an NC16 movie, but I can!

What? I was talking about the Da Vinci Code. What did you think I was talking about? Those Highly-Sexed Shows? Non, merci beaucoup. I'll wait til I turn 21 thxvm (:

MWAHAHAHA. Da Vinci Code's NC16!!! I feel smug. (is there such an expression?) ALL MY YOUNGER FRIENDS/ACQUAINTANCES WON'T BE ABLE TO WATCH IT while I cackle evilly away behind the safety of the Ticket Person, prancing about, waving my legal ticket in front of their furious faces.

OOOOH! TRES AMUSANT! *cackles*

Death by Fries

2006-05-11T16:25:00.000+08:00

Joined some classmates going to McDonald's today. We had plenty of fun. Gossip gossip gossip, that's practically all we teens ever do nowadays. It's mentally damaging, but, hell, we want that temporary moment of thrill. It's like a drug, the more we take it, the more we're stuck to it.

Isaac: Why're you so into this Homosexuality thing?
me: That's because I've never met gays before and I'm really curious what it's like to be homo, I'm just curious!
Isaac: Why don't you imagine yourself as a guy liking another guy.
me: I can't do that.
everyone: -laughs-

me: You two really
make a good couple, you guys feed each other fries so readily.
Isaac: Yeah, me owner, her dog.
Rachel: Oi!
Mary: -laughs-

Rachel: See? I brought a dog you know?
me: Where?
Mary: It's imaginary, see over here!
Isaac: See? Here also, my imaginary dog, beside you!
me: Oh god, you guys are psychotic.
Rachel: Like the fishes in your head.

Isaac: Oh my goodness! How could you? You are underage!
me: For your information I turn 16 in 5 days! And I did NOT!
Isaac: So when you're sixteen you're going to sleep around?
me: NO!
everyone: -laughs-
me: -brandishes Fry Box at person- What is wrong with you?
Isaac: Stop pointing your McDonalds at me!
Stanley: -laughs insanely- Ohmy, I can't stop laughing at that 'stop pointing your McDonalds at me!', so funny! Like that time she see KT in the library like that!
me: Oh so that's why you were laughing like mad?
Stanley: Yeah

Rachel: Do you like [insert name]?
me: Oh god, no!
Rachel: She came up with a nickname for him you know? Chewy! You seem to be very interested in him! -laughs-
me: Chewy's a nice name, and I did not come up with that name!
everyone: -laughs-
me: -chucks Fry Box-

Thinking of the Fry Box as a lethal weapon that would impale her with fries really made my day. Oh the beauty of imagination.

Presenting the Idiot of the Century

2006-05-08T14:38:00.000+08:00

I feel like a prat. I must be blind, yes, I must be! How could I not see those HUGE SHADED BOXES (even if they were on the flip-page) !? I should've known something was wrong when I caught a whiff of Chlorine from the Neighbouring Bench and ended up choking over the fumes of Ammonium spewing merrily out of my boiling tube.

Or maybe it was just my nose. My nose has been blocked since Saturday. BUT I COULD STILL SMELL AMMONIA AND CHLORINE! So what in the merde was wrong with me??

MotherMacaroniOfHolyInfantPasta, my cerebrum is malfunctioning.

But that still doesn't explain the missing out of HUGE SHADED BOXES on SPARKLING WHITE PAPER! Okay, well, maybe I did see it, but I ended up forgetting all about it in the highly exhilarating events that followed.

Oh Good Lord, I really do possess the memory span of a goldfish.

The Literature Paper was allright, I suppose. Though Mother Macaroni bless the eyes of whichever poor teacher that is subjected to the unforturnate task of marking my essay.

I came over all emotional and wailed and stomped and knocked my head on every single wall that came within convenient distance of my wrath and despair. And poor Fiona had to endure a moment of bone-rattling.

I think I've lost a mad load of brain cells today.

Maybe I will miraculously turn into a Clinically Unsound person tomorrow so I will be deemed psychologically unfit for the Dreadful Math.

oh the madness

2006-05-07T17:11:00.000+08:00

sorry for the heinous lack in posts. usually i wouldn't not blog for so long a period ( if i had a blog ) even if there was a potential crisis like an earthquake or terrorist attack or something. i'd still risk life and limb to report about the situation at home but i guess exams are way more life-threatening than real life-threatening stuff like the abovementioned, if you get my drift.

which you probably don't because 1) i'm babbling like a toothless inaudible raving paranoid old thing again or 2) you've stopped reading my blog because you find it a waste of your life and you are bored to tears from having to read the babbles of a toothless inaudible raving paranoid old thing 3) you are too horrified by the hideous new blog template that i have put up.

which brings me to the topic -- the new blog template. i had to change it because i found out that my blog and another person's blog template are alittle alike. so, you know, i had to change it because, well, every blogger would like his/her own space and originality, and maybe we transverse on the same designing wave-lengths or something; because i seriously did not know about it, the same blog template thing, i mean, until kailin posted the comment in the comment box.

and also because, well, i didn't really like the idea of 'sharing' a template with someone else. call me selfish, snobbish, haughty, whatever but i've always liked my own 'personalization' in blogging.

***

the week has been seriously insane. i've been mugging like a ... erm ... muggerwort for my exams. don't ask me what 'muggerwort' means, i don't know either. i think i read it somewhere in the harry potter books or somehting.

it's the exam week! and i think i really schmutzed up my chemistry paper and physics practical. and social studies was the horror of horrors. but enough about the blood-sucking exams, thinking about it is depressing. my teachers are probably scheming some form of horrific painful torture for me for putting them through the horrerificment that is marking the tissue scraps that i call my exam paper.

i've got a biology paper in one day's time and i've still got a mad load of chapters left to study. sigh, so much to do, so little time.

au revoir!

Howzat fer bore'em ?

2006-05-01T20:38:00.000+08:00

The days have taken on an underzealous drone, I go through this EVERY year, it's like a seasonal routine of my mind. And when this season settles, it saps my ability to blog at all.

I've drifted about reading up on Social Studies, played some Guitar and Piano, talked to the Pets and burned some things to name a few ( I had NOTHING to do with the four fire-engines that were at my block today ), but I still feel unpleasantly listless.

Perhaps I've lost my zeal for life.

Hey, there is more to life than studying. And besides, I DID study.

I was wondering ...

2006-04-30T19:45:00.000+08:00

What is it like to be homosexual ?

Off to gawk at the gorgey-orgey Radcliffe and drool like the proverbial drain, ciao!

Suicide

2006-04-29T22:04:00.000+08:00

Do you smoke?
No, I do not.
But I breathe harmful substances,
such that every breath I take in
intoxicates my heart, makes it blacker
and leaves me short of air each time.

Do you do drugs?
No, I do not.
But I swallow every negativity that is thrown my way
and I don't spit it out no matter how nasty it may be
I grin and bear it ; such that my heart bleeds dryer everytime
No matter, it leaves me addicted, yearning,
for something I will never attain without a heavy price.
Acceptance.

Do you booze?
No, I do not.
But every drop of Cold Cruelty I take in daily
leaves me drunk with depression
such that I don't trust what I see on the back of my hand,
and my heart takes on a likeness of stone everyday.

I do not have potentially lethal bad habits that have been labelled hazards of health by authority, but, perhaps, life IS suicide.

Paper faces on Parade

2006-04-27T19:27:00.000+08:00

They board a train with mutual friends about them, prattling away with typical teenage topics of Love, Life and Lament, putting them under uncomfortable scrutiny of the third degree, so much so that they feel a certain awkwardness and apprehension in talking to each other.

Casual words stir a face-reddening uproar, a brief meeting of eyes leads to an embarrassing flurry of giggling and teasing that they lapse into silence once again.

Why the shyness? Why be inhibited by how our friends act? Why care about what they have to say? Why care so much when they don't care about you in the first place? Doesn't make sense, does it?

It's a selfish world, a narrow world in more than one way. Why not be selfish too? To other people around you, and to yourself as well. Nevermind about your heart, your face matters more. The heart can waste away but the face must remain intact.

That 'psychological need for acceptance' and security.

Why the fear?

Because we are teenagers, and face and friends matter more than our hearts, and sometimes, our lives.

It is sad, what society has done to us. How did superficiality weave itself into our lives? Why do we allow it to stay? We, the constant-lamentors of societal warfare, when it is us who set the bombs off ourselves with our own insecurity.

It'd be a tragic thing to realise, at the end of the day, you haven't done what you'd wanted to do because you were too afraid. We live as though we'll never die, and we'll probably die as though we'd never lived.

I don't want to live a life of regret of things I had wanted, so much, to do but did not in the end because of some lousy reason or another. I love my friends and my family, and my life is short, why waste away on something that won't last?

The train stops, she prepares to get off. Both bid a hasty, brief farewell, scampering to opposite ends before the train even stops. The door opens, she decides to make an extra effort and attempts a complete 'goodbye'. But she is swept away by the crowd as she starts to speak, and glimpses his disappearing head.

Why do we all have to put on masks?

I am human

2006-04-26T15:57:00.000+08:00

I wonder what it feels like for Myrtle to lose her child. Mother Myrtle the Fat Mad Hamster lose her hairless gender-indistinguished unnamed spawn.

Amusedly Stoical?

Oh dear god, lookie here, I swallowed my baby for protection and spit it
out. Now it's all curled up and stiff and bloodless. I wonder if it's dead.
Maybe I should bite it and see. On second thought, why should I bother? I didn't
even get the name of the guy I made this spawn with.

Hystercially Devastated?

'Tis thy fault, 'tis all thy fault! Thou pooreth little babe, curled and
stiffeth and lifeless. Be thou furry head on a cabbage leaf, nothing
henceforth shalt compareth to the brokeness in thy brokeneth heart. Oh the
hamsternity!

Histrionically Depressed?

The days have become darker, no longer does the sun shine upon my tragic
little discolored world. My life shall no longer circle about my baby for it has
passed on. Carrots and peas hold no value or comfort for me anymore for my life
is one of pain, and my tongue, one of taint. Wherefore shall I go from here?

Unboundedly Joyful?

'Tis a happy happy dayeth! Thy birds and thy sun shineth upon thy
magnifique soul! Thy carrot tastes much sweet, thou peas round like meat! Though
thou baby has diedeth thou shalt not mourn for 'tis vair bright a dayeth!

Schizophrenically Gollum-esque?

My baby has died a horrible death.
Who cares?
It is all my fault.
Yes it is all your fault for swallowing it.
It probably suffocated in my warmth...
It suffocated to death thinking its mother was a cold-blooded murderer who
ate her own child!
Nooooo it is not, I am not. Stop it!
*evil laugh* You know it is, you know it. You are a cold-blooded
murderer!
No, I am not. It was unintentional! I was trying to protect my baby!
YOU ATE YOUR CHILD AND SPIT IT OUT!

Makes me think how significantly different a life I've got, really. It is an uncannily profound contrast. Moudy didn't eat me and spit me out when she felt threatened.

Sometimes, I am glad for being human.

The week thus far

2006-04-25T20:00:00.000+08:00

I own a marvy Steamboat Willie!

Steamboat Willie has been my secret-not-anymore psycotic fetish ( of sorts ) since the Omnipotent knows when.

***

"Oh, here's the funny part ..."

' ... the DNA contains information for ... gene ... alot of information but
takes up little space ... and the rest of the DNA is just nonsense.'

"Nonsense DNA?"

Fiona and I blink at each other for a minute of funeral silence, then we burst into hoots like hooting drains.

***

"I'm not talking to you ever again in my whole entire life!"

"Fine, I won't talk to you either!"

15 minutes later.

"So horrid! Why didn't you wait for me at the lift!?"

"I thought you said you weren't talking to me?"

"Who says I'm talking to you right now?"

"I thought you said you weren't talking to me?"

"FINE. HMPH!"

Sometimes I feel like I'm talking to myself. Oh unbounded joy.

She lives!

2006-04-23T11:13:00.000+08:00

Hi, in case you were mourning/celebrating, I'm not dead. I'm still ~~barely~~very much alive. Joy. I've just been mugging some, that's all.

I just sat for my Chinese Prelims yesterday and I am still fairly murderous so if you like your neck the way it is, don't aggravate me. thxvm!

So, you know, with the O's looming like the sun ever nearer, I'm starting to feel the strain of The Book and stress of The Grade. BUT I haven't snapped yet, which is a miraculous thing if you ask me. Because usually I would've injured someone really badly by now or at least schemed an act of horrorism.

But, you know, all's well that ends well, Shakespeare says.

Check this website out, courtesy of Ms L, The Chemistry Teacher. It's not bad for a Christianity site, it doesn't get all preachy and borish and the music is nice (: See The Interview With God.

Ciao!

Brilliant

2006-04-19T18:56:00.000+08:00

Brilliant, just fine.

I've got HSV1, my hair smells like EGGS and Chinese Prelims are just THREE DAYS away.

Tres magnifique.

A Midsummer Night's Dream

2006-04-19T15:04:00.000+08:00

The sprinklers came to life. Her tears fused with the water cascading down her face. She was afraid, not for herself, but for her friend. They were seperated by a wall of canvas plastic right then, locking themselves in different cubicles for measured safety in a moment of haste and panic.

Now, they realised it was folly. Each stifled their sobs in the torrent of water and of thundering feet, though they were too frightened to think they would not be heard.

Then, the banging came. Before the door had even slammed closed, the hammering had begun. The hooligans on the other side roared with their mouths and their huge fists, going at the locked cubicle door as if it had been a sworn enemy, a liability to their reign.

The noises melted into the background as blackness creeped into her consciousness ... or was it unconsciousness? She was not sure herself.

The banging continued, even as the blackness dispersed as soon as it had come. She looked up when she felt a prickling on the back of her neck, quite unlike how it felt when water was trickling down her head in rapid torrents.

He stood in front of her. Behind him, the cubicle was still locked, and the eternal scuffle between in the inert door and the bovine yahoos was being pursued with greater magnitude from the live side.

She was on her feet. They were standing facing each other. Silence louder than the battle between them. She was no longer fearful though he had appeared out of nowhere. It wasn't normal, but then again, what was normal in her life?

She felt the beads of water tracing her bare skin, and she could see the droplets wrapping themselves on his body, sliding, flowing. She recoiled as he came closer, she should've pushed him away, but she did not. She did not know why. She just glared defiantly at him, daring him. He dared.

A jolt of pain and electricity shot through her body as their skins touched ...

It was over in a minute. The door exploded with a last unnatural force of their fists.

She woke up.

As soon as her mind cleared of its usual morning grogginess, she grimaced in disbelief and bewilderment. But the dream remained in her head for a long time, unlike the ones she had that trickled away like water in cupped hands when she strained to remember it.

"It was just a nightmare,", she mumbled.

*****

Sleep does things to people, doesn't it?

Weird.

Tree Crash

2006-04-17T20:18:00.000+08:00

Tree Crash near Ngee Ann Poly today.

Do you call it a 'tree crash' ? You know, I am not very sure. I mean, do you call a fallen tree blocking a whole road a 'Tree Crash'? It sort of gives you the impression that an auto-mobile smashed into it and broke its roots and toppled it or it got pushed over by other bigger trees or something. Queer.

Anyway, there was a HUGE traffic jam in my lane because the fallen tree cut off half the road. But I suppose my side was lucky, the other end had the whole road blocked, and there really was a huge pile-up.

The people in my bus started getting impatient, tutting, tsking and stuff. Everyone craned their necks to oggle out the window as the bus rumbled by the fallen tree.

It was really heart-warming to see that many civilians helping the police move the tree bit by branch. It really is a rare sight in a country such as ours, you know? It shows there is still hope left, and there are people who are willing to fight for it (:

But, you know. They could have been doing it just to get the space cleared and all, but I'm optimistic. I'll delude myself into thinking they were doing it for the sake of Samaritanism (:

Dire situations really bring out the best in people, don't they? I witnessed a load of social cohesion amongst strangers today, usually, strangers in [the Country] will just ignore each other and fascinate themselves with clouds and ants, only bothering to give a merde when something really big happens that gives them fodder to gibber about for the next few weeks.

Praise Ye! Singapore is salvageable!

But, you know. Dire situations bring out the worst in people too. There were those who'd gotten out of their stuck car, standing at the front of the line, watching others remove the tree bit by bit, hammering away on their handphones in colorful languages, exhuding impatience and all.

Honestly, we need alittle bit more love in our society, don't y'all think?

Happy Easter

2006-04-16T12:06:00.000+08:00

Happy Easter dearies (:
Though I'm not Christian ~~and I'm just wishing it for the sake of wishing~~

Today is the day when a fugazillion years ago, the Omnipotent One returned from the dead and managed to move a ( probably ) thousand pound boulder from the mouth of his grave.

Like, wow.

MotherMacaroniOfHolyInfantPasta, he lives! Oh joy!

Well don't look at me like that, at least I bothered.

The Rain II

2006-04-15T18:22:00.000+08:00

It is raining, again. It has been raining all week as if the clouds themselves are flippant, indecisive and frivolous women set free in their favourite mall. Unable to make up their minds choosing between a mild drizzle and a torrent. When the shopkeeper(s) hurry them, they lose their elegant poise and turn into furious bolts of lightning, kicking up a storm and fussing worse than sunlight just shy of summer.

First it is just little patters and bird-poop-esque drops of rain, then it becomes a ceaseless cascade from The Heavens Above.

Makes one think of those automated-mechanical buckets that upend the moment it is overflown with water in Lagoons, really. Minus the screaming, trigger-happy little mites of His Holiness' Creation of course. Their guardians probably shoo them into the nearest shelter the moment their sharp, eagle-like nostrils dilate and detect even the slightest hint of rain.

But, you know, I'm not complaining. As long as the rain keeps pouring, I remain contented. Perhaps the monsoon is coming much earlier this year. Come to think of it, the monsoon in Singapore is becoming more erratic and unpredictable every year. And I really wonder why.~~blast those idiot anti-enviro-ego-maniacs!~~

Maybe Singapore will experience Snow this December. Weather-people and Geologists would probably scoff at the idea and think: Snow in Singapore is as likely as Hell Glazing Over. You know, like, that could happen.

I am a very optimistic individual (:

47th

2006-04-14T23:18:00.000+08:00

47 years of tolerance, joy, anger, hate, obligation, adolescent agonizing, insanity, turmoil etc

Thank you (:

For not throttling me in my sleep or chucking me off the balcony in anger/impatience. Because I know how harrowing it can get to have to put up with a delinquent like me, but, you know, harrowing would be wholly understated word to use in this context. Especially with a short fuse. I GOT YOUR GENES! So, you know, I proved to you that Moudy did not cheat, though that is completely irrelevant.

But, you know the mishappen spawn of your's and Moudy's copulation. Randomly extreme and extremely random.

Now I shall begin blogging about Vaddy's birthday, so stay RIGHT ON YOUR CHAIR and don't move a muscle ( except to click on your mouse and whatnot ) even if it gets plenty boring and you are on the verge of bawling in outrage because you feel your eyes and brain have been violated and insulted by something as borish as this.

But, whatever, you know? I'm all for human rights (: *snorts* sorry.

I ( think) woke up relatively early today. Considering how I've been ~~not~~sleeping this week because of school and stuff, it's really quite a miracle I my hypothalamus(?) did not seize Good Friday to fall into a ~~self-induced~~ coma.

A quarter and hour later saw me grunting and tsk-ing away behind the locked door of the toilet trying to squish myself into the size 3 jeans moudy got for me from the States. It fit fine, though the hipster-esque cut made me feel alittle ... queasy. I ain't some Naomi Watts, you know? Which is when I realized I NEED TO GO ON A DIET. MotherMacaroniOfHolyInfantPasta, I really need to, or I'm not going to be able to fit into any of my casuals to make me look (at least) pathetically decent.

For the first time of 3 hours this week, I felt like a bird! I was free and at complete liberty to do anything and everything I wanted (save from contemplating and commiting suicide etc of course) so I decided to waste away 3 hours of my life flipping channels and watching the Chronicles of Narnia. Which sort of got on my nerves really. Edmund Pevensie really is a scoundrel, and that Lucy is truly nauseating.

The Family had lunch at Sizzlers and I chewed away at apricots from the 'Salad Bar' while reading about Delacroix's distasteful demise from 'The Green Mile' -- he got himself friend alive in Old Sparky's embrace, complete with graphic vivid details of how his eyeballs exploded out of their eyes sockets, how his skin peeled off like how you'd peel a grape etc -- which was also why I couldn't tear my eyes away from the book though moudy was getting exasperated telling me it's 'socially impolite' to read at the food table.

Watched 'Eight Below' next. You guys should catch if you can, y'all! It's REALLY good. A tragic story with animals in it never fails to make my heart ~~of stone~~ crack. Which means my heart is probably softening ( GASP! ), or maybe I'm just being good-ole-animal-fanatic-me. In any case, I did not cry, though half the cinema did, I just felt sad. Which made me think the opposite of what I'd thought earlier, that my heart-of-stone had progressed to a heart-of-diamond, which, I think, is essentially harder to crack?

I took half an hour flitting about a mobile watch shop, trying to look for The Perfect Watch, but I left empty-handed because I just couldn't decide and ended up thinking the watches didn't look very tasteful, anyway (SOUR GRAPE ALERT!!!!!).

By the end of it, Bruddy was 'cursing' civily (because he would've been flogged to the ends of the earth right then and there had he done the opposite) and exclaiming in incredulousness(?),"It's just a WATCH sissy! MY GOD. You take so long to look for watch and you didn't buy it in the end!" bla yadda.

Then the talk went on to the 'Shopping Ethics and Tendencies' of the two known genders in the Homo Sapien species. Which culminated in me retracting into my Shell of Reading where I got stuck in my own world thinking about Wild Billy Whorton and Big Black John like-the-drink-but-not-spelt-that-way-Coffey.

And now, I can proudly claim that I have fully understood the concept of Organic Chemistry though not quite grasped the Essence of Carefulness in doing my work. But, heck, I CAN TELL THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN AN ALKENE AND ALKANE!!!

You guys really should watch Ice Age, even if you might find it childishly uncool and dimly shallow for your grown up selves, you just HAVE to watch Scrat and his classic debuts!

It's sort of like a once in a lifetime kind of thing to watch a skittering, neurotic, persistent little prehistoric mammal chasing an acorn for eternity.

I think I'm in <3!

Or maybe it's just my inclination for cute little furry critters.

Conspirational Theories

2006-04-11T15:28:00.000+08:00

"Agh! I don't comprehend Chapter # of E Math!"
"Er, ask Ms Y?"
"ARE YOU NUTS!? Going to Ms Y is like poking a sleeping tiger in the eye!"
"You mad or what? Got Math Teacher Phobia?"

Like a sprinkle of pastel in a gothic wedding cake, a blotch in Micheal Angelo ( or Da Vinci? )'s fabled painting of the Mona Lisa -- a tear in the sky of an adolescent's fabricated world of refuge; these entities prowl.

A pitiful analysis of revised topics solely existing for the purpose of 'genocidal purgatory', goblet of detergent mixed into a daily diet of garrish graphs, strange symbols, stranger signs and nauseating numerals meant to forge a perfect legion of zombies.

Labour falls like hailstorm in the North.

Obliged to memory, unwillingly contracted to a jury of strangers who ultimately dictate your future, the weak ones unable to grasp fast/at all fall ungracefully to the depths of a mathematician's hell left alone to their own devices.

It is a fast society, a busy one, a selfish one. Everyone else is too preoccupied with accomodating themselves to stop, and think to help. Not even the ones who helped them before. It has become a thoughtless, heartless, ungrateful barren land.

Forget friendship and the love. Foreign words in an estranged domain.What have we left of our future? The rich and the poor are of the same standing despite their financial insubordination.

Thus the fear, anixiety, superficiality and paranoia passes from generation to generation. An innate unspeakable terror of asking for help. Inhibited by pride or prejudice.

Perhaps they are the reason children suffer insomnia at such a young age and adults tell the same horror stories again and again, more of them going to bed with angry hearts and black faces.

No, my fear of math teachers is definitely imagined.

Witch

2006-04-07T15:22:00.000+08:00

"Witch! WITCH!"

Witch, they called her. Witch. All she'd probably ever done to cause the animosity was to exist.
They were strangers to her. She did not know them. She had just come to the town centre to buy herbs from the market.

Yet they gossiped about her as if they had known her since she was born.
"She mixes 'erbs and casts them spells!", "She eats salamanders!", "That black cat of hers ...", "She IS the cat!" ...

She had been condemned for as long as she could remember.

A web of lies, spun by spindly hearts, from tar-coated mouths. A myriad of suspicion fuelled by fear. A mindless legion of Zombies emulating their fore-fathers, transmorgrifying tales, words as centuries went by and times changed.

It was disturbing, unsettling. Dangerous. For a small town to be so wrought with paranoia, enmity, hatred.

Didn't they know they needed each other to stay alive?

CAMBODIA

2006-04-06T19:46:00.000+08:00

Here's us in Cambodia atop one of the Angkor Hills doing a 'Twit 1 to 10'. Oh the happy times ...
I am number 8!
From left: Carissa, Grace, Selene, Genny, Joaquina, Joelynn, Chanel, me, Sindhu, Naomi

The guys weren't supposed to be in the picture, but they popped out anyway, so
From left: Gun, Ranen, Hosea, Joshua, Alvan

Click to enlarge.

In Town

2006-04-05T20:31:00.000+08:00

"Are you local?"
"No, I'm from Uranus."
"Haha, kidding right?"
"Yes."
"So are you local?"
"Yeah."
"Really? You don't look local."

Monday Blues on Tuesday toos

2006-04-04T16:43:00.000+08:00

note: kindly pardon the horrigific grammatical error(s) made in the above title. I couldn't think of a better match for 'Tuesday too', so I just threw it together. Though I know my act of rashness will culminate in an ugly divorce in which 'Monday Blues' and 'Tuesday toos' will bicker in legislative terms over the custody of 'on'.

Count the number of times I've been on MC this year, you'll probably run out of fingers, toes and limbs. It's not something I'm proud of really, I miss out on all the mind-blowing fun in school, the wonderful teachers and the fascinating lessons.

Besides, staying home all aloney-on-my-owney does things to the head. Or my head, at least.

Honestly speaking, I didn't feel like going to school at all today though I woke up peachy fine but grumpy. Partly because Moudy was leaving for the States in the morning. There was a dread that poked at my heart. Vaddy woke up especially early to send Bruddy, Me and Moudy to our respective places before going to work.

By the time I reached school, the tears had gone, and the wads of tissue were almost dried and shrivelled up.I didn't feel half as bad as I did a half hour before. Though the hollowness remained and grew.

Sometimes all someone needs is a nice long cry.

But, you know. That aside. I HATE TUESDAYS! In fact, I prefer my Mondays to Tuesday though it's typically normal for people to hate Mondays so societal norms and traditions won't go extinct.

I've got a free period on Monday, and there's only three lessons I need to pack for. But I absolutely ABHORR PE on Mondays. So maybe I hate Mondays as much as I hate Tuesdays.

The only thing that keeps me going throughout Tuesdays is Charmed at 8pm. I LOVE those kick-ass witches. Or maybe I'm just fascinated by the magic. Otherwise, I wouldn't bother to wake up on Tuesdays. And if I do, I'll probably drag myself through the day like a Zombie on a roll.

Maybe I should turn myself into a Witch and cast a spell on the whole world so that everyone will forget there is such a malodorous thing as Education, and the World will be a much nicer place and everybody will live Happily Ever After. The End.

The Rain

2006-04-02T16:55:00.000+08:00

It crouched against the window sill, a small puppet-esque head weighed on tilted wrists as thin and fragile as dying twigs from a dead tree - it amazed passers-by her knobbly branches hadn't already snapped, and had managed to survive the monsoonly routine of balancing a hollowed face which stared, with its wide still eyes, at the people who passed by, into blank space.

As it was doing now. Those eyes were once again, as they had every wet season, peering out of the rain-splattered and dirt-grimed window. Watching, watching, waiting ... for what?

It did not know. Or maybe it did. But whatever it was, it did not show. Not in her eyes which were lifeless, nor in her face, which remained emotionless and indifferent to the people who dared to chance a glimpse at the head which remained propped from behind the tainted glass.

It wasn't distinguishable. Perhaps she was a girl. WAS. Or a boy. No one knew or chanced a guess. As long as it remained, they were satisfied. It would serve as fodder for something to pass their time gossiping which would otherwise have been spent out in their lawns, trying, but failing, season after season, to produce real fruits and flowers of their labour.

But deep down, they were afraid. It was a little town, a quiet town. Far from civilization, they defined their own civility. It was inevitable.

It was an indescribable fear. Of the thing behind the glass panes which never failed to appear during the monsoon. They were a simple race, one which put down plausible explanations for abnormal things.

So, they came to know the thing from the window as 'it'.

A birthday wish

2006-04-02T11:32:00.000+08:00

To Moudy, who probably won't see this and who is flying off to the States on Tuesday Morning - HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

It doesn't matter how many wrinkles you have on your face ( unsurprisingly caused by yours truly ), or how much fat you gained for having me ~~though I really shouldn't've said that~~, bruddy and I still love you with all our tiny heart (:

Though it's your birthday and you're the one who's supposed to be making the wishes and blowing out the candles, I am wishing for you to have a safe trip to the States and back in one piece.

So please please please be safe, stay away from trigger-happy districts and, for chrissakes, come back.

We need you ~~to help us pass our exams~~, we would be like fairies in a hollow of Goblins if you evaporated for good. And that's just one of the things that could possibly happen at your science conference.

SO PLEASE STAY SAFE, and enjoy your mud-bath with Uncle Ben and Auntie Jacqueline too.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY (:

I ain't perfect

2006-04-02T02:08:00.000+08:00

i am a moiry-modmother

2006-03-31T23:06:00.000+08:00

note: hi. sorry i've been MIA from the blogging scene for the past week. i've been uber busy, and what's left of my brain juices which i normally spare for the love of blogging, has been squeezed dry and milked worthless from all the re-education.

formalities and obligations aside.

ANGEL GAVE BIRTH !!!
I am now a proud *moiry-modmother of 5, sorry, 6 ADORABLE BABY MICE!! They are pink, bald, tiny and squishy but INEDIBLE. So please kindly keep your savage beastly thoughts of substituting them for your noon snack, Angel is a VERY protective and aggressive mother, and will attack viciously if need be.

I was wondering, because we're studying Hormones in Biology right now, if Mice do have negative feedbacks in them. Like when your body is overloaded with a particular substance eg glucose, insulin is secreted to bring the sugar level down, simply put, etc.

Because Angel and Winkles don't seem to be able to control their sex drives (!!!) Angel barely nursed her newborns and she's already off canoodling about in the sawdust with Winkles. I don't think she's even come round to name her offspring yet!

Good Lord. I'd expect a more eager mom than Angel, but NO, not her. It's perfectly allright, after popping 6 infants like it happens everyday, to GET HERSELF PREGNANT AGAIN!

And Vaddy Mouse Winkles doesn't even care he is responsible for the heinous crime. VDW just cuddles up with Angel, and wakes up to do it again when he gets horny in his sleep. Is it even possible to do it while sleeping !? For mice, I mean. Not for humans. Humans have exceptionally extraordinary navigation skills when it comes to things like that - look at their gametes.

OhMotherMacaroniOfHolyInfantPasta. Why hath thou forsaken thy mice ? Why hath thou ? Wherefore art thou??

*moiry-modmother: mouse + fairy godmother, go figure.

the *madimosity that is S2E

2006-03-25T22:56:00.000+08:00

( note: before i get hauled into the principal's office and slapped with disembowelment, detention and expulsion, i would like to say that this post is not meant for the deflammation of certain school policies, it's more of a constructive route to self-expression instead of, say, raising hell in the MOE? )

*madimosity: madness and animosity, go figure.

This is why Schools should cool it with the academic over-indulgence. The authority heads get so obsessed with brainwashing every student that passes through the Institution that they actually come up with freedom-supressing goodies with our daily school package.

Much as I like going to school, and I'm being generous vocabulary-wise here, I simply cannot put up with sick schemes like the abovementioned to further brain-wash those who aren't capable of absorbing enough brain-wash fluid earlier by imprisoning them in classrooms with a motherly matron to boot, and depriving them of basic humans rights ( no talking AT ALL !? no handphones ( in case of emergency ? ) !? ).

It's genocide, I tell you. The genius(es) masterminding this scheme ( and the minions, come to think of it ) is pure evil. PURE EVIL!! The likeness to Pol Pot is uncanny. Exterminating the futures of tomorrow by means of a slow and painful death ( eventhough we, the Chosen Ones, might not be the brighter of the lot? ) ? It's no different from the Khmer Rouge using rakes and shovels to club their own people to death, into their own graves.

Oh the horror! Wherefore art thou Humanity?

While it is understandable that the school would like its charges to excel academically and, thus, fling it higher up the ranks of the academic ladder, I think most have forgotten about the Psycological and Emotional well-being of its students.

Different people learn at different paces and in different environments. Standardizing learning and limiting the creative abilities of students to seek help etc will not benefit all.

Restricting students to the minimal space of a classroom, with no communication and movement whatsoever, and to the minute boundaries of a chair and table?

HELLO!? Have you ever heard of Claustrophobia and the need for brain-rest !?

Apparently not.

Do you know how Pol Pot's 'Angka' dictated the lives of every cambodian during Year Zero?
Same, much?

Good Lord. Stop this senseless genocide of mankind, people! There will be mutiny and rebellion of cataclysmic proportions in time to come which will completely defeat the whole purpose of a conducive learning programme.

We do understand that S2E's sole purpose is to ensure at least 3 days of wholesome textual absorbance but, honestly, do you think EVERYONE will be susceptible to charades and mind games of that sort ?

It all seems like a great big pipe dream of every headmasters'/mistress' to me. Fruitful learning cannot be obtained/generated through a forced environment. It's human nature to rebel against causes which violate our rights to freedom.

Do you really think S2E's going to be effective? If it is, then why plan for continuation in the 3rd term? The Chosen ones should have excelled in the 2nd term - so there's bound to be unsuccessful cases ( note the second 's' in 'cases' ).

Planning for the third term also indicates the expectation and anticipation for the failure cases, which means, the faculty would know that S2E will not suffice for individual academic achievements. If so, why put the futures of tomorrow through that much torment to see them fail again and again and again?

Ridiculous, non? Oui!

It will give people more reason to object to S2E because, evidently, it is of NO HELP, whatsoever, TO THE STUDENT POPULATION.

And because it's just plain bovinity to think keeping students in an enclosed and stifling environment will turn them into study freaks who score straight A's .. I mean, c'mon, someone of your academic calibre should find 2 + 2 an insult to 3.142, right? Need I go any further?

S2E = Sure 2 Excel? I think not.

No, so, DOWN WITH THIS ABOMINATIVE MONSTROSITY, I say!

The stupid little things ( that count )

2006-03-22T16:15:00.000+08:00

I guess I've been pretty stupid. Fretting over something that wasn't really worth my time in the first place, you know, I really can't heal something I've done, but I tried. I did try. It just didn't work out, I guess.

Perhaps you couldn't give a flying pig about it anymore, in any case, I've snapped out of it. If you couldn't care less, then I should move on too. I can't always be there for something that doesn't respond/doesn't care to respond.

How befitting the end of a ( supposedly ) fairy-talesque friendship. We were immature to think it would last, nothing ever does.

These days I've been forced to reconsider friendships, though it really stings to do it. It would be sensible to remove a twig in a heart before it turns into a tree and blows it to bloody bits, wouldn't it? But then again, when did friendship ever synonym with sensibility?

I suppose my decisions made now might turn out for the worst, still. Again, s*** happens. But I learn lessons everyday, and this is just one that took me too long when it had been conga dancing in a fairy costume right in front of me all this while. Figuratively speaking, of course.

You know how sometimes you think you've really found a really good friend you can really trust and laugh and cry about with? And those 'sworn siblingships' you gain in your teenage years? They'll always stand by you, no? They'll never forsake you, of course (: At least most of them won't.

I guess people move on, people change and grow. Some learn to walk faster than others, others walk slower than some. And those people you'd been walking at the same pace with all along, laughing and chortling, pushing and shoving, joking and pranking like school-children on a trip to the zoo, suddenly pick up their pace.

And they don't even bother to look back when you call for them. So you just go on walking as before, looking stupid and feeling alone, with what you have left of your once happy 'family'. Or none at all.

First, the denial sets in and you think they're just playing a prank on you to scare you for old times' sakes. Sometimes, the denial takes long to set in, but when it finally does, you feel winded.

Like you've been ricochetted off way away behind your friend's shrinking figure by a spring that appeared out of nowhere.

Sometimes, it's the other way round. You walk too fast for someone that's in front you want to catch up with, and your friends call you back from way behind, but you pretend you don't know them.

But when you realise the person you'd walked so fast for really wasn't worth it in the end, and you try to turn back to your friends, you realise it's too late, because another person/thing has taken your place. And they treat you with a cold indifference that is too much to bear.

It's a mutual fault, I guess. Afterall, it takes two sides to make things work out, just as it takes two hands to clap. I guess these two hands just couldn't stand with the tissue rejection anymore and decided to turn away.

Ironic thing is, we learn the most from tragic things like that.

Sad, isn't it?

Oh Wretch!

2006-03-20T21:21:00.000+08:00

OMFG. We've actually gotten out O Level Entry Proof already.

Somehow, my overworked brain can't help comparing the wretched piece of paper to the likes of sunlight.

Yes, sunlight. The treacherous ball of flame which hovers in the core of our solar system.

The over-fried yet ripe-looking egg with a mind uncanny to that of the Khmer Rouge's. Beating and tormenting innocent civilians, ridding them of all remaining bits of relief and sanity. If it gets too hot, your brain cells will fry, and when brain cells fry, somebody gonna getta hurt real bad.

I am crankier nowadays, maybe it's the weight of the O's setting in. ~~Or maybe it's something else.~~ You know how little things can just make someone's day.

Moudy was tres generous today. She sponsored 2/3 of my new wardrobe!! I decided to revamp my WHOLE closet (:

It's a new start, I'm leaving my past behind, walking away and moving on to new things and new people. I don't need people who make me feel insubordinate and worthless. I am more than that.

Goodness knows, I've put up with enough of it already.

My O's end on the 16th of November !!!!! Blessed be Oh Great Almighty One!

the weekend ( thus far )

2006-03-19T18:43:00.000+08:00

Horror movies should be made illegal ( at least for people not accustomed to 'bumps in the dark' ), but then again, what's life without a few ~~screams~~shocks ? Then horror flicks should be made LESS horrific. Aw shucks, it wouldn't be a horror flick then! It would be like a bad combination between lame tricks on April Fools and lousy 'boos!' on Halloween.

But, you know, they should make horror flicks that appeal to audiences of all types, so people won't have to waste ten bucks on half a movie (!!!)

It's been a long time since I last watched a REALLY horrific horror thriller. The last one I watched that really threw me out of my seat ~~and almost made me wet my pants~~ was 'The Haunting'. DON'T LAUGH. I was just a kid then, and I was terrified of the Boogey Man ( which I found out, upon maturity, was just a fabricated 'last resort' for adults to scare kids into obedience )

ANYWAY.

The dorm was terrifying. I need to watch more horror flicks to get my brain adjusted and psyched into thinking 'horror flicks are another genre of comedy'. Think of the number of $10 bills I'll waste !!

So we had our 'Service Learning: Cambodia' gathering ( of sorts ) yesterday. It wasn't very formal eventhough we were dining at a fairly 'high-class' restaurant. Swensens is high-class ! It's got pretty wine glasses, and pretty wine glasses indicate high-classedness! ( if swensens served their drinks in plastic coffee cups, like those in Coffee Shops, would you bother to even act civilized? )

The teachers weren't there, and we made quite alot of noise, I think. Gun tells nice ghost stories. HAHA. I was so intrigued that I forgot that I'd forgotten to order my dinner.

Our bill? $296.50.
Everyone had to pay an average GST $3.20. HA-DI-HAHAHA.

It's Eug's birthday today. I ended up at Swensens, AGAIN. And I am perpetually broke. ( It's like I'm a prolific magnet for expensive food or something! ) And I watched another movie. Though I think I wasted my money again because the show was slap-stick, corny and shallow. There were no ups, or downs. Just ... zilch. Think bees buzzing about a flower bed. Oh wait, hang on, I think watching bees would've been more interesting than watching the movie.

Two movie tickets WASTED in TWO consecutive days. Tres brilliante.

It was nice anyway, I really enjoyed going out after the hectic week (:

School tomorrow. POO. School is another thing that should be made illegal.

It's just a dream

2006-03-18T12:04:00.000+08:00

Had a nice dream last night (:

Dreamt that my blood vessels and veins turned into plant vessels ie xylem, phloem, and I almost died because of tissue cell rejection because I started bleeding from my eyes, nose, mouth, ears and head (:

And I just stood still and watched, fascinated, at my transmorgrification. Did you know that when plant vessels start growing in your veins, your limbs become slightly stiff and turn brownish? HAHA.

Pity I woke up when I was about to die. I want to have more dreams like that!

AH I'm babbling. Going out to watch 'Dorm' at Cineleisure later (: MWAHAHA. Finally, after all that talk about it, I'll get to watch it myself.

False Hopes

2006-03-18T00:37:00.000+08:00

Only because it's illegal

2006-03-17T21:19:00.000+08:00

You hold the keys

2006-03-17T20:43:00.000+08:00

~~Should I stay or should~~ I go ?

If it will stop this war-like idiosyncrasy, I'll put on my pheasant sandals, open the door and leave.

You hold the keys.

I've waited too long, I have been too afraid. I AM still afraid, but drawing it out will only make us, or perhaps only me, unhappy.

It's silly anyway. I feel like I'm fighting over something unattainable. I've got more worth while issues to war over. Sure it might be blatant waste of my time, but it's worth it.

I can't be someone else. I am NOT anyone else. And I won't let anyone make me someone else. Not in the least you. I never expected it, you of all people should know me best. I can't and won't be something else you want me to be.

It'd be a total violation of my very values and on the bases of where I built myself, it'd be like that Brit Woman said, "Prostituting myself".

Don't use me. I'll hate you if you do.
Don't play with me. I'll kill you.

"We wasted too much time"

Gene-o-side me

2006-03-16T21:28:00.000+08:00

So I'm horribly and unrecognisably tanned - sorry - BLACK from all that sun now and I'm really starting to feel a wee bitty unsettled.

I thought Cambodia was the DARKEST I could get, but, OH NO, Canoeing practically charred me. I think the mention of Pokey Hokey the Black would make charcoals blush white, forget their molecular structure in embarrassment, erupt spontaneously in flames and disintegrate to the deepest depths of shame.

Mother Macaroni of Holy Infant Pasta I am practically a different race altogether. If I walk on the busy streets of Singapore, people would probably think I'm Russell Peter's race or something. Or they'd probably go "It's a stone! It's a dame! NO! It's the Walking Charcoal Girl!"

Yes I am overreacting to a certain extent. I am overreacting because, hey, this really isn't the first time I've been dyed so badly. Pictures of me in Primary School Track would prove this point. And I am certainly NOT overreacting because it's been a GAZILLION years since my last tan and I SWORE TO MYSELF I WOULD NOT BLACKEN MYSELF EVER AGAIN. Because honestly, over-tanning for most Asians is REALLY harmful for our delicate skin in our Tropical Climate. And, let's face it, Asians really CAN'T tan nicely.

It's been an extremely exhausting two days. Some of us stayed up all night last night and very kindly ordered McDonalds' in the dead of the morning, and I do mean dead. The Delivery Guy ended up having to squish our food through the gaps in the school gate because it was locked. Tres triste.

Then there was the 4 hours of O Level Chinese Workshop. Four whole hours of butt-floor contact with minimal movement and mild oral exercise, and that was it. It was four hours of blibber-blabber buzz-muzz hades in which the chinese teachers kindly elaborated on ALL the points in the stack of notes they handed each of us.

I really didn't see a point in it, so you can imagine the state of utter joy and pure ecstacy that overcame my benumbed senses and beguiled brain when the floodgates of ~~hell~~liberation finally creaked open painfully slowly.

And thou knows the consequences of thy said state.

Sometimes all it takes to sadden someone's day is just a supposedly happy gathering with friends who start getting secretive and laughing and talking in code acting like you don't exist and don't have feelings and roll their eyes when you ask what's going on. It's really unpleasant and upsetting to know that someone you were once close to doesn't seem to give a merde anymore. It's kind of like relativity with karma because after that, all it takes to brighten the sad day is just the sight of a long gone friend.

Thank you for the brightening of a sad day.

i wonder

2006-03-14T18:39:00.000+08:00

well the camp's tomorrow. it'll be my very last project before i dive right into the dangerous sea of academic jurisdiction that students in their final year of secondary education affectionately refer to as the 'O' Levels.

i didn't expect it to come so fast. not in the least two days returning from cambodia. i need to recuperate from emotional upset, y'all. emotional upset! i miss the kids and the country. my heart is still in pieces!

right. i'll stop being such a tragic sob-case.

sometimes i really wonder if teachers really ever do grow out of their childhood, especially after seeing the way Mr *Pee and Ms *Ech can behave. it's the inevitable result of ~~educating~~putting up with pubescent delinquents 5 days a week, i suppose.

or maybe it's just their manner of relieving 'stress'. or maybe it's just an innate compellation to fulfill required behaviour as drama teachers and to set positive examples for their charges to follow.

whatever it is, teachers who go woo-woo just freak me out. and teachers who are more overbearing than (ab)notmally expected are even more freaky.

teachers are just freakily freaky.

* names have been altered to protect said individuals and respect privacy

random muse

2006-03-14T18:28:00.000+08:00

sorry,yesterday's post was the unfortunate result of an overdosage on -- nevermind, you really don't want to know.

If ice is transparent, why is snow white then?

to a 'stranger'

2006-03-13T22:20:00.000+08:00

all that stuff about being less passive and initiated ? i get tired after awhile. i don't like waiting for something that's uncertain. some things just really don't NEED waiting. some things might be worth a lifetime to wait, but, honestly, do you/i really have a life to spare? life is so fragile and short, i really don't want to wait anymore. i don't think you ever cared anyway. yeah i've learned to love, but i don't think i could care less anymore. i do get hurt and upset at times from things like that, but, you know, my heart is still stone. it either breaks completely or stays that way. stone can't melt, darlin'.

someday we'll meet again. someday. the more you say it, the less i believe you. it never actually happens, does it? haha. you know, it's really been a very long time. and you say it's 'too late' like you really regret it, but do you? i'm beginning to doubt your sincerity. yeah, perhaps it's my fault. maybe you're doing this to get your revenge. i was really harsh to you a long time ago. so i deserve it then. you have all the time in the world you could want.

are you happy now? to watch me tear apart again?

i'm sorry.

Potential Prodigy

2006-03-12T18:02:00.000+08:00

Somna, one of the orphans from Cambodia reminds me of ( gasp!! ) JAY CHOU!

The resemblance is uncanny it's scary.

Maybe Somna will make it big one day as the Magnificent Musical Mumbler ?

-shrugs-

On the way down

2006-03-11T23:15:00.000+08:00

So I've spent a wonderful week doing service and learning in Cambodia and I'll be back in the Motherland at noon tomorrow.

We said Good-bye to the orphans and the farm yesterday and it was negatively heart-wrenching. I don't know when I'm going to be able to see them again, and I miss them already.

Good-byes are a sad affair.

I never know WHEN and where I'm ever going to see them again and after bonding with the orphans for a week and sharing life with them, it sort of tears you apart to not be able to see them again ( at least not in the near-future ). I feel a weird hollowness within me, I think I left parts of my heart back at the orphanage and the farm.

People here are so genial, earnest, sincere and loving that I feel almost guilty for bargaining a price over something they slogged so hard for especially when it's already a third-world country and most of them probably barely get by three meals.

It's a blessing and a curse to love. The feeling of loss is, perhaps, the most terrible thing I could ever experience. But love is, possibly, what keeps us going -- what keeps ME going, ~~though I haven't much to spare~~.

Yesterday at the orphanage when we gave out the donation items to the excited children, the light in their eyes, the glow radiating from their faces, the infinite-watt upturn of their lips overwhelmed me with an inexplicable feeling.

In that moment as I was on the way down the stairs, I realized, Cambodia had given me more than I could ever possibly contribute.

Cambodia taught me to love again.

moo and more moo

2006-03-07T22:30:00.000+08:00

it's pretty shocking that i'm actually blogging from cambodia ( pardon the lower-casing because i really am very tired and my fingers are crying pink murder at their abuse ). i am surprised myself too, i thought it'd be as third world as the third world we see on NSBC and BBC sometimes but, oh no, it's insanely advanced - in the city area, of course, and since the hotel is right in the center of the town, i'd say the internet connection is what it's supposed to be [ insert suitable word ]

strangely enough, cambodia reminds me of new zealand. it's just the cows. THE COWS. yes the COWS. eventhough the human to animal ratio is inversely proportionate to new zealand's, cows, nevertheless, remind me of new zealand. everywhere you look there's moos here and moos there.

honestly i have no idea what i'm typing right now because my eyes are 99% shut. but i will continue blogging because my duty is to my heart, not my eyes.

i hear weird noises from the guys' rooms. i know for a fact that they're all congregated in there. and they're REALLY loud. but what in the merde are they DOING in there!? the thought of it is disturbing, especially when my room-mate remarked that one of the guys was walking like he'd just made rough love or something.

i feel accomplished. all of us do :D i did loads of work, was NICE to the little orphans AND i've got a TAN. a freaking tan. merde brilliante.

y'all know? after cambodia, i don't think i'll be so unpleasant around kids no more because kids really aren't that bad (: not all, at least.

Cambodia 2006

2006-03-04T11:32:00.000+08:00

Okay, so I'm leaving for my Service Learning Trip to Cambodia in approximately 16 hours times.

So why is it weird that I feel as nervous as I am excited?

It's, you know, like this ominous foreboding that makes you anticipate so much your mind is a blank and it's a cruel feat to put it in words which is exactly what I'm trying to do now but I know I'll fail badly anyway.

What's to say I won't do an Angus and start gnawing at everything and everyone I see when ( and if ) [ the principal ] pops out of nowhere at the airport later and gives us a Pep Talk ( which really won't be much help at all, btw ) like she did last year before we went to China for the Exchange Trip.

"You are embassadors of our country [...] bla bla bla yadda yadda yadda"

Oh, and did I mention? We are going to be taking a budget airplane to Cambodia with the rest of the Sec 1 population. Yes WE ARE GOING WITH THE SEC 1s. Except the Sec 1s are going for 'Educational Enrichment' while WE are going to 'Learn through Service'.

Service Leaning Trip will turn out fine, just brilliant. I'm sure of it.

a letter to THE school

2006-03-03T21:42:00.000+08:00

Dear [ principal/caretaker ],

I am a student of your century old school ( who cares ).

I have been under the just and fair rule of the school for three and a quarter schooling years. I am a decently faithful and loyal charge of the educational institute ( pardon the shamelessness ) who, though irrationally erratic and prone to condemnable fits and embarrassing antics at times, maintains reasonable calm and keeps my head when I, an unwitting statistic of academic labour, am to put up with unspeakable new policies which, quite frankly, insult the very gems of Singapore's most precious resource.

However, I must say that I have reached the very end of my thither ( and I do have a fair bit of that, thxvm ) and I appeal to the individuals concerned to please, OIL THE RUDDY FLAG-POLE! ( or flag-rung, whatever you call that lever thing that you loop the flag rope around )

Yes. The flag-pole. All the hooha about a something as trivial as a flag-pole. An iridiscently irreverent demand bordering on downright lunacy from an egregious girl of your reverent school that will probably be a waste of precious time, you say.

That may be the case ...

But I digress!

As a proud member of the god blessed school, I have been taught to stand up and speak for my rights to listening ears of authority when circumstance calls.

I deem this an irrefutable circumstance which cannot, and will not be denied. Two thousand over students bear ear-ness to this testimony.

[ principal ], as you may very well know, every morning, the school population is obliged to sing and pledge our inextinguishable patriotism and allegiance to the Mother Country. I have nothing against this of course, I am all for Total Defence.

But I think it would be prudent to make the prestigious ceremony decently bearable without having to subject us to torture of the worst kind so fudging early in the dead of the morn.

Ears are sencond in importance to eyes when it comes to school. For without auditory tools to sustain learning process during visual, er, malfunctions, one would not be able to surmount the gruelling consequences of surprise tests and pop quizzes.

It has been scientifically proven countless times that

subjection to unpleasant noise is severely damaging to the human ear.

Screeching flag-poles in the dead of sunrise is considered 'unpleasant noise' for shrivelled ears that have already been badly marred and mortally wounded in the harsh and cruel brainwashing facility in which you ostensibly call school with an innocent smile plastered to your face.

If the school forks out regally ludicrous sums for the beautification of the campus grounds, I should think it'll be able to spare the finances of regular flag-rung oiling especially when grease and lubricant are economically priced nowadays.

As our beloved principal, I am sure you do have out very best interests at heart, and as a devout follower of Christ his-holy-self, you would desire to be as benevolent as the Omnipotent himself - subjecting your innocent charges to unecessary torment of the pole really isn't very civilized of you, is it? Especially when we are already bracing ourselves for the next six hours ( or so ) of mental pulverization and psycological mangling - PLEASE! Have mercy! Oil the flag rungs!

Thank you very much for your kind attention. I hope to hear improvement SOON.

Yours in utmost Purity and Honesty,
Pokey Hokey.

Spread the L.O.V.E ! ( II )

2006-03-02T15:33:00.000+08:00

Post-secret ?

2006-03-01T19:55:00.000+08:00

P.S. Has anybody still got their Prelim Papers for O levels? I NEED PRACTICE.

Angus is ... A GIRL !?

2006-02-25T17:31:00.000+08:00

HOLY MERDE.

Angus ( the GUY ) is a GIRL!
Angus is a GIRL!?

What the Fudge!?

And I saw such a brilliant masculine future for the lad ...

Holy macaroni. Forgive me, this post is going to be punctuated with unholy connotations of random objects because my brain's in a state of perpetual shock.

When was the last time YOU woke up to find your little brother a SISTER!? Not fudging ever, isn't it!?

OhblessedMotherMacaroniofHolyInfantPasta please walk with me for I fear my tormented soul will not be able to tahan this disturbing revelation, take it in my stride, accept and move on. I fear this tumultous episode will be too massive a blow for my insubordinate cardiac excuse of a heart.

I should've known when Jumper and Winkles tried to hump Angusel. I mean, who in the merde would want to hump someone of the same gender!?

Oh how absolutely silly of me - Gays, and the like, of course. That wasn't intended as personal attack towards said individuals.

But then again, if incense(sp?) and parent-child relationships are a norm in the Animal Kingdom, gayism shouldn't be a big issue because the animals are bound to be so confused, they will need to hump to tell female from male!

So you can just imagine this in the human world, Paris Hilton would accidentily-on-purpose release a Sex Tape with girlfriend Kimberley Stewart and she'd get as much tabloid fodder as her first exclusive one.

Ohmyfudge. Angusel is sniffing at Winkle's and Jumper's fury rumps like she's horny again or something, the mynx! You know, I'd expect her to be a good pregnant wife and all, but, NOOO, she goes about sniffing other guys' humps!

Is it possible for pregnant mammals to be completely unaware that their gametes have already fused with anothers', and that it'd be decently polite of them to keep their nose to themselves and their spouses?

Angusel's babies are going turn out hornifically different. And that scares me.

You know? The most magnificent thing is I don't know who the culprit of this heinous crime is, because it could be Winkles or Jumper or maybe even ... GASP! Baby! HolyMacaroniofHornifiedInfantPasta. I don't think "Daddy" even knows he's "Daddy".

OhmyFUDGINGgoodness. My room will become a mouse nest in about a month with baby Angusels skittering about and squeaking with all their fudging furry might.

HOLY PASTA BLESS MY SOUL.

How much ?

2006-02-22T12:59:00.000+08:00

How much wood would a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood ?

What in the merde is a "wood-chuck" ?

A Mousecret

2006-02-21T22:31:00.000+08:00

My theory ?

Violent music makes mice violently ...ahem, active, if you know what I mean.

LOVE! <3

divided we conquer

2006-02-20T20:15:00.000+08:00

A subject as worthy as this ? I HAVE to blog about. Eventhough it's an immensely risky and life-endangering affair, and I've got tests and tests after tests this week - I REALLY HAVE TO BLOG.

You know how some days you just wake up feeling especially mischievous and/or impish and instigate your conscience into wreaking small-scale havoc before the morning really begins ? Yeah. That was random and completely unrelated to what I'm about to blog (:

Today demonstrated how we ~~prejudiced and~~ influential seniors are pretty tough when caught alone in the blazing heat of a braising teacher.

Said member of faculty cum syndicate to World Domination was smart. I really have to give it up to her, even WE, the futures of tomorrow, wouldn't be able to whip up such a brilliant plan to overcome our adversaries. BUT she did it. Against all Odds and Ends she ... failed. ALAS. -despair-

You know how the old saying goes, "United we conquer, therefore, divide and CONQUER!"? The stratergy used by MOST war-~~cowards~~heroes ? Yeah. Well, it doesn't apply to teenagers this age, apparently. Or at least teens like us.

Evidently, dividing ~~and trying to conquer~~ us wasn't a very smart move. Because Said Member of etc soon found herself overwhelmed by the ostensibly frank and innocent answers from us.

"I want each of you seniors to really look at one another and tell me who YOU think is able to lead positively."

-ripple of murmur infused with the rolling of eyes-

"Now, SM, we'll start with you who do you think is etc etc etc"

"KL -followed by a brief list of reason-"

"KL ?"

"pokeyhokey and eilatan."

"pokeyhokey? are you sure? think carefully -abrupt pause ( realising she'd unwittingly put down a member of her treasured society ) quickly tries to make amends- okay, tell me why."

"because etc etc etc"

"okay. -looks incensed but remains calm-"

A long tirade follows of how seniors are such 'bad examples' and 'juniors should never learn from us' etc then comes the topic of listing every single one of the seniors' heinous crimes.

"now that we are here, pokeyhokey tell me what do you think the seniors thought when they were laughing while some juniors were performing?"

"well i can honestly say that we really amused and interested by the juniors."

"score!"

"it's better than going 'boo' or taunting them isn't it?"

"i'm not talking about that, i could hear laughing and jeering when some juniors talked etc etc etc"

"this is so worth a blog entry."

"yes immas? what did you say?"

"oh i was telling her we agree with you how negative exmaples we seniors are and we should practice moral courage to etc etc etc"

You get the gist of the friendly debate between Member of etc and student(s).

My point is.

Eventhough law and order play an immense role in our degenerateding society, I really don't see why Members of the Faculty and etc should try to discipline a bunch of 'unrefined hooligans' especially since the government encourages a creative, open-minded and conducive environment for youths to broaden their horizons and think out of the box. What better environment to be suitable than a zone of our very own, that is to be left to our own deoffences in our own nature?

Discipline in this age is like taboo to teenagers. Something that is unspoken and unthinkable to our kindred spirits. It's become a vicious cycle - no discipline leads to no discipline and leads to no discipline and leads back to no discipline.

I don't see a point at all in trying to disrupt a cycle of societal nature, it only tips the balance and gets worse (:

Therefore, DIVIDED WE CONQUER !!111

Barney is LOVE !

2006-02-19T19:22:00.000+08:00

Caution : Viewer Discreetion advised. The following is rated PG13 and should not be viewed by audience below said age, even with guardian. Impregnated, weak-hearted and innocents should restrain from viewing post.

Before scrolling down, please be informed that Pokey Hokey holds no responsibility whatsoever of any form of damage inflicted accidentily/coincidentily/intentionally Psycological or Physical, therefore, view at your own risk (:

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Your resident Mental Institution currently resides at 10 Buangkok View. Contacts can be viewed by clicking on link. Should you be experiencing any form of mental disturbance, please do not hesitate to engage yourself to a Mental Specialist to assist you in regaining normality.

thxbb (:

his Royal Omnipotence

2006-02-19T10:07:00.000+08:00

"Bruddy is going to church."

I never ever thought I'd live to hear this sentence, at least not with 'Bruddy' in it. Maybe it's because I've lived with Bruddy for 14 years ( and counting ), but he's the last person on earth I'd ever thought of to go to church.

And now he is.

It really makes me wonder if the world has gone woowoo on me. Oh wait a second, the world IS woowoo. So I guess a phenomenon like Bruddy going to church is highly possible. It unsettles me alittle, but, ahh, I'll just put it down to a growing phase that he'll grow out of one day.

In the meantime, I'll just stare at him like he's gone nuts whenever he tries to recruit me to the Holy Communion of BeDogged Souls of his Royal Omnipotence, God.

I know how you Christians are stalling at the screen right now, trying to figure out if I really just insulted yours-the-one-and-only-holy-truly and if I really meant what I typed above. It wasn't meant to insult, but, whatever, those of you enraged will stay enraged no matter how I justify myself, so, yes, I won't bother to justify myself. thxvm (:

Anyway.

This 'Bruddy going to Church' thing really made me think of the past. My visits to church ranged from the bare minimum to zilch. Sleeping in on Sunday mornings mattered more to me than dragging myself to the stands for Benediction and such. Of course, there was a short period when I became an avid church goer, now that I think of it, I realized I went not to exhalt his Royal Omnipotence but at the prospect of being able to see the Ex another day of the week.

Faith for the Wrong Reasons turned me into a Holy Fraud, I suppose.

But, it's okay, we all have our little moments that give us the dirt we need in our lives (: I am a major contributer to the Homo Sapien Flock Factor

Everyone's experienced it, so I shouldn't feel so bad because ... well, everyone's experienced it.

and that makes me feel a whole lot better :D

if only ...

2006-02-16T20:29:00.000+08:00

When I'm upset, I start cursing. I've got low EQ ( I think. )
But sometimes I just turn into a human hosepipe, because I think it's better to let it all out that way - dehydrate yourself of all unhappiness.

It's like a psycological thing, you know ? Psyche yourself into thinking you've got nothing more to spare so you won't be upset anymore or you'll turn into a walking parch.

But if only ...

I don't think it's wrong to want so many things, we are human afterall. %$#& parental advisory and self-control, cheers to the free world. Everyone needs a break sometime. But I guess there's a down-side to it. There's a down-side to everything.

If only ...

Random Muse

2006-02-15T20:34:00.000+08:00

If listening to Eminem makes me feel violent, does the same thing apply to mice ?

Because if it does, I'll have to wear 16th century Medieval Armour to sleep so I'll wake up in one piece from the Attack of the Mad Mice.

Spread the L.O.V.E !

2006-02-13T21:11:00.000+08:00

I just realised, it's V.Day tomorrow ! The day ~~most~~ALL ~~happy~~couples live for each year. ~~Then it's back to the gallows for both of them.~~

Teachers have been kind enough to my class NOT to set any tests or exams tomorrow, so, for once in my life, I am extremely in favour of teachers ~~though I still believe they are syndicates to a legion of World-Dominion-by-murdering-the-futures-of-tomorrow.~~ Yes I am THAT flippant and biased.

So while the couples are busy making out and indulging in Public Displays of Affection all over ~~themselves~~ the school during recess and lunchtime and before, I'll just sit back and watch in nostalgic remembrance.
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Okay, on second thought, I'd rather NOT remember. Or I might just barf all over the ~~abysmally vandalized~~squeaky clean school property.

It's okay. Poor little lonely Pokey Hokey will be a good girl, keep to herself and share some intimacy with her Social Studies book so she will know it inside-out enough to ~~finally~~ score for her test on Wednesday.

Or maybe I'll just be ~~evil~~nice and ~~torture~~help Sammi with her audition piece ... Hey, one's got to let her frustration out sometime, somewhere ~~someone~~, right ?

As promised, Jumper, the overly-hyperactive mouse. The one in the food bowl who looks like it's sniffing its butt xD

The one behind is Winkles.

Honestly, I'm not very sure of their sexual orientation yet ... They're still too, um, small.

Mice aren't humans. It's not that easy to tell them apart. Baby Humans have very distinctive ... ahems.

Baby mice ? Just a 'tiny stub'. HEE HEE.

Twisted fingers ... and ankles

2006-02-11T22:34:00.000+08:00

This week's been crazy as hell. It's probably going to get worse very soon, so I'm blogging as much as I can just in case I turn into a permanent head-case or something. This blog will be proof of my ( once ) divine existence (:

Yesterday really scared me out of my long-drawn slackness. Watching last years' batch crying, laughing, screaming, smiling really frightened me. I don't want to be crying when I get my results next year, I want to be jumping for joy and screaming in happiness. I want to be smiling and laughing along with everyone I love.

I made a pact NOT to slack anymore, but ~~I really doubt it'd last long~~ it's alittle too late. The prospect of failing is a scary thing. I suppose if someone asked me what I fear the most, I'd answer, "Flunking my exams and doing worse than worse can be.", it isn't very specific, but it's my own warped thinking that only I can understand.

I couldn't take the anticipation in the hall. The air was thicker than Asian Haze with tension, my stomach was writhing and I was practically twisting my fingers into tight dead knots that would've made a professional dead-knotter commit suicide in shame.

I would probably snap before I step into the dazzlingly bright hall to listen to the 'tension-breaker' talk and get my results. But that's a completely different story which I'll post about next year IF I live to tell the traumatizing tale.

ANYWAY.

I've got an addition to my exotic name!

MsO : bla bla bla so the transparency attracts the pith balls up and yadda yadda yadda
me : hey, pith sounds like a nice name, don't you think ?
fiona : bubbles, don't you have anything better to do ?
me : pith sounds like a nice name ! though if it's pronounced piff it'd sound funny, what do you think ?
fiona : it's a stupid name.
me : yes, i shall be known as 'pith' from now on. 'pithy' for fun, and 'pithany' for sophistication !

My dear readers, Pithany Sayuri Wonka has just been unleashed into the harmonious~~ly destructed~~ world :D

I've got a twisted ankle, it cracks sick jokes and plays evil pranks that send me into muscle-spasming convulsions. Mr Ankle has got a mind as shallow as he is, and that is saying something.

I've been very out-of-it these days. One moment mental asylums seem like a bright and happy playground for mental therapy, the next, every building seems like a potential place of fusing with underworldy bodies. Oh, what am I saying. Look at me, I'm babbling again.

This is what I said to Fiona today

hey where did you CAT GAH I WANT go why are you PHOOEY SO MUCH HOMEWORK so late we are CAN YOU BELIEVE I ACTUALLY PASSED BIO ITS A MIRACLE I SHOULD CONVERT running a tight schedule I REALLY NEED CARAMELS RIGHT NOW I AM GOING TO and we haven't got much time I AM GOING TO GET MICE and the o levels are coming already SOMEBODY SAVE ME I NEED BUBBLE TEE HIA HIA HIA HIA HIA GEDDIT SO FUNNY bla yadda bla

in ten seconds. She stared at me like I had grown a Baboon's Butt on my forehead, and I went red as a red bottomed monkey after realising that I had just subjected her ears to another one of my random hyper-activated muses.

Speaking of hyper-activity. Jumper is a mad mouse that's on a constant high. Fiona says the likeness between me and it is uncanny, but I BEG TO DIFFER THANK YOU VERY MUCH MON AMIE. I do not have a furry charcoal face, flower-petal ears and a long furry tail like Jumper does ! ( I'll upload Jumper onto the blog the next post )

If this blatantly pointless post has been an immense waste of your time and brain cells, please do not refrain from dialling your friendly neighbourhood psychiatrist for a friendly cheap problem-solving session (:

Have a nice day.

Much Ado about Cockroaches

2006-02-08T12:14:00.000+08:00

No, really. I don't get what irks most girls about cockroaches.

Cockroaches are marvellous creatures ! They're not even HALF gross as the girls I know describe them to be !

You wouldn't be able to survive a WEEK without a head, would you ? But these awe-full creatures can !

So what's all the fuss about icky sicky little cockroaches ?
Oh right. I forgot. They're icky, sicky and little.
And they scream 'cockroach'. HA-DI-HA-HA.

Honestly, if cockroaches weren't put in such bad light, they'd be honored as one of the world's OLDEST insects, not cause mental distress at sight and trigger a stampede of terrified sapiens.

You know, eventhough there hasn't really been a scientific explanation ( yet. ) for the point of existence of cockroaches ( applies to HUMANS as well. ), I believe they play a great part in the balance of the eco-system (:

For without them, the world would be a bigger ticking trash bomb ( the world IS a trash bomb, actually. it's just smaller ) because cockroaches eat trash. YES. DON'T DENY IT. THEY DO. They eat trash. They eat practically anything. They eat our left-overs too. So the next time YOUR moudy tells you not to waste food, retort and say, "I'm not wasting food! I'm feeding Mr Cockroach!".

There really is so much rubbish and waste on earth that, our efforts combined ( which I doubt would happen ever ), we probably wouldn't be able to clear all of it despite massive campaigns like 'Clean-up-the-World' Day. But that's irrelevant.

Now, cockroaches, they really aren't that horrid once you get to know them. Actually I think they're positively cute (:

I am absolutely jealous of them for having 6 cute tiny slender feet, two magnificent brown wings and an uncanny ability to survive for a WEEK without a head! Now I imagine if I was living in the ancient world where a single swear word would earn you a decapitation. I'd still be able to run around and say my good-byes and farewells after they axe my head off! ( but of course, I wouldn't be able to talk because my mouth would be attached to my head, and my head would've been disposed off. )

I suppose cockroaches got their name from cocks.

Once upon a long long time, there lived an arrogant cock. He would crow at random times and wake the agitated villagers from their sleep / blissful reverie. One day, a friendly neighbourhood sorceror got so irritated by the inconsiderate, and petulant cock, he cursed all cocks into insignificant oblivion. And from then on all cocks lived in days of darkness and were shunned to the ends of the earth. Since the sorceror could think of no other name to fit the ghastly abomination, he just added a word to it. Thus, cocks were known as cock-roaches. THE END.

In case you were wondering, the cocks you see in farms and zoos nowadays are of a completely different species and therefore, should not be brought up in this topic.

I reckon the world would be a much happier place if cockroaches became men's best friend (: They wouldn't think of stealing your wives / intimate relations. And they're willing to take all the shit you can give them ! What better friend to have than a six-legged brown little insect ?

Ruddy Toilet Signs

2006-02-06T21:46:00.000+08:00

Toilet door signs should be blown up, bolded, psykedelically highlighted in bright neon outstanding anti-camouflage colors to guide the visually handicapped / unobservant and prevent them from ENTERING THE WRONG RUDDY CUBICLE !

You know how sometimes you're in a mad rush but you've REALLY got to go, ahem, pluck a daisy - the DIE-DIE-must-do kind ?

Yeah. You get all muddled but then you realise it's the first time you're at this new place and eventhough you've spent a good nice hour or so with your friends, you still don't know the area enough to NOT get lost finding the RIGHT loo.

So you wander around for abit in search of the legendary, sought-after 'bowl of glory' but give up after a short while because you realise preserving your ego is a really minor issue compared to a ruptured bladder, and because it's silly anyway. So you daringly walk up to the waiter and ask him for directions and he just POINTS VAGUELY in a non-specific direction.

So you head in the direction of the non-specific vague gesticulation and come face to face with an opaque veil. And because you're in such urgency to ease your growling bowels, you practically rip the curtain apart and slam through the first door you see.

Despite your violently protesting bowel, you can't help but notice the striking oddity of having a URINAL for MALES in a, supposedly, FEMALE toilet. But you are forced to push that thought to the back of your head because - PLUCK DAISY FIRST, THINK LATER.

And rush in all fire-on-your-ass deliberation into the sole cubicle with a toiletbowl.

While your bowels are fighting a petty battle with your excretory tract, your head debates the possibility of a unisex loo in an immensely conservative and considerably narrow-minded country like Singapore. But just conclude that the particular restaurant is just one of the few 'roses among the economic thorns' which provides non-gender specific hygiene services.

That being thought, you walk out in all fervour and satisfaction with a triumphant gait in your stride and once again you pass the Male Urinal. You notice it and it still unsettles you, but you console yourself with the thought of having conquered a formidable adversary in the toilet cubicle you just emerged from.

Upon opening the swinging door protecting you from the cruel and inhibited world beyond, you bump into ... your very own Sissy by the sink !

She gapes at you with wide astonished eyes and exclaims, "PokeyHokey, why did you go to the men's toilet !?".

To which you reply indignant but weedy, "This is the Men's ?".

Sissy points to the door behind her and you realise another door you'd not noticed before, right in front of you, with a sign of shown type.

It suddenly hits you harder than a sledgehammer that, in your blatant disregard for personal security, you entered the WRONG TOILET !

Giggling in embarrassment and stupidity, you try ~~but fail miserably~~ to curse and end up threatening Sissy instead to keep her mouth shut about the unfortunate incident.

Sissy, nevertheless, announces your plight and you end up lowering your head in utter embarrassment and shame, trodding away with an imaginary tail in between your legs.

And the rest of the night is spent on marvelling at the immense intelligence that brought you to the wrong toilet and rendered you a laughing-stock, and wondering if your Principal really had been sane when she decided to place you in the Triple Science Stream.

That being said. TOILET SIGNS SHOULD BE MADE SIGNIFICANT, NOTICEABLE AND OBVIOUS. If the Government thinks it's too ~~expensive~~ flashy and blinding for great big neon letters, they could plaster the toilet doors with paper-signs / markers identifying the gender of said toilet. Or they could just stick male / female symbols all over the doors and leave a one-inch spacing for the door-knob - like I did with the stamps for the letter to my China Buddy (:

Photograph

2006-02-05T17:23:00.000+08:00

Sky oh sky

2006-02-05T12:09:00.000+08:00

I really should stop using you Sky. You've gotten me into a right lot of trouble.
But how can I? I won't be able to survive without you.

You are like my other half.
The Alfredo Sauce to my Linguine in my Alfredo Linguine Pasta.
The voice in my head to tell me I'm right ~~when I'm wrong~~.
The ropes to the rickety wooden bridge keeping a path to my sanity.
The neurones in my brain that help me think up witty and amusing comments.
The dendrites that help me complete my homework without shooting straight off my rocker.
The 'star' in our definition of 'star-crossed lovers'.
The Pangus to my Angus.
The Harry to my Potter.
The oxygen in my lungs.
The carbon-dioxide in my head.
The king to my kingdom of Mushroom Fairies.

Oh Sky, you are the LOVE of my LIFE !
Why can't you see you're tempting me ?
I lose all sense and control whenever you're in my hands.
I just HAVE to hold you.
But, oh Sky, you're just TOO expensive to maintain !
How can I love you so much and hate you at the same time ?
You've become the pain of my existence, and yet YOU are the reason I live !

Oh what bliss ! Oh what pain infused too ! Oh wretch of my love, be gone!
Tempt me no more!

I cannot believe I'm exalting my handphone.

Redefining Stupidity

2006-02-03T22:50:00.000+08:00

I think I just redefined stupidity. Blowing half a year of savings on 5 CDs ( eventhough I've been ~~lusting~~yearning for them for a long long long long long time ) in a matter of minutes, really ISN'T the smartest thing to do when you are sick.

You'll feel like throwing yourself off the banisters of the top floor of the shopping centre, then you'll hold that thought and wallop yourself for being so stupid because your CDs ( WHICH YOU BLEW YOUR SAVINGS OF SIX MONTHS ON !!! ) will probably be 'inherited' by a sympathetic passer-by who decides to do you a 'favour' by making sure half-a-year of savings was spent well. OR the CD shop owners will 'accuse' you of shoplifting and not press charges ( because you've already killed yourself anyway ) and reclaim the 'stolen goods'. OR ... POO. Couple that with a Nose running like the Nigara Falls, a throat as raw and sore as the Ghobi Desert and ears as plugged as a clogged kitchen sink, you get ... Forget it. Thinking about it makes my heart ache even more.

I shall NOT brood over this act of foolishness any longer.

Yes. I will not. Instead, I will ANALYZE the misfortune and spot the problem - like all psychiatrists do (:

Firstly, Pokey Hokey, WHY did you commit such a brazen act of -insert worthy vocabulary to describe said crime- ?
Oh, you know. I really don't know. I think I was possessed or something. Or maybe I was held at gun-point or knife-point. I'm not sure, really. It couldnt've been my shadow that threatened me ( like Brandon suggested ), because I don't have a shadow right now. My shadow is currently trying to fix her disintegrated heart and crying away at some dark obscure corner ~~of my mind~~ contemplating the bane of her existence. And, as far as I know, my shadow has never been better at fixing jigsaws than me. And I'm a jigsaw idiot !

I see. So, your shadow is, ah, alive, you say ?
My shadow ? Oh YES. Definitely. She's as alive as a mushroom fairy can be (:

Right. Okay, your shadow is very much alive as a ... mushroom fairy. How do you feel right now ?
Right now ? Um. I don't know. I haven't fixed my heart yet. So strictly speaking, I can't feel (: But strictly speaking, I don't always speak strictly.

How did you feel before you bought the CDs ?
Oh. I felt ... you know, that's a really good question ! I can't remember ! You know, I really think I was possessed -smiles happily-

What about RIGHT AFTER you bought the CDs ? RIGHT BEFORE your heart broke ?
Oh, the inbetween part ? I was filled with a sense of euphoria and bliss and fulfillment. Then my heart broke. And it rained pee and poop afterwards. Actually, it's still raining pee and poop. Can you smell it ? It's a brilliant display of watery excretae isn't it ? WOW.

Yes. Beautiful. Given a second chance, would you buy 5 CDs in five minutes with half-a-year of savings ?
-stares in fright and horror- Git away from me ! -screams and runs-

I have learnt my lesson.
If I ever commit the same heinous crime, I will EAT ANGUS.
And since Angus Pangus is my darling, I will NOT eat him.
Therefore, I will NOT splurge my savings on 5 CDs EVER again.
Ergo cognito, I will not experience heart break EVER again.

Bless my soul oh mary mother of holy infant jesus. Bless my ~~twisted~~ soul.

Chocolate for Prozac

2006-01-31T12:37:00.000+08:00

Chocolate is my aphrodisiac. No, wait. Sorry. That's the wrong word. It doesn't only arouse me, I'm addicted to it. The right word should be drug. Yes, drug. Chocolate is my drug.

If chocolate were a man, I would marry him. And we would rule the Chocolate World of Mushroom Fairies hand-in-cocoa-hand. But I think I'll contend with Willy Wonka for now. Oui, Willy Wonka the King of Chocolates. Not a chocolate himself but he's the King of Chocolates, that's better than nothing (: I'd marry him eventhough he's alittle queer and reminds me of M.J. the chocolate will make up for it.

Sayuri Wonka. MWAHAHAHAHAHA !

Darling Willy will build a Chocolate Palace where he will put two awe-some statues of him and me extending our cocoa arms imperiously.

Anyone within a million mile radius will be struck by its magnificence and prostrate themselves in awe at our feet. Eveyone will adore and worship us. And God will be a forgotten relic of the past, an Old wives' tale to trick annoying little pricks into behaving themselves.

The world will be a better place if Kids didn't exist. But since they do and always will, I might as well make them more tolerable.

They should dish out chocolate instead of Prozac at psycotic, oops sorry, psycological institutes. Chocolate is cheap, convenient, more desirable and HAS TASTE. Prozac is just ... oxygen. Tasteless, odourless but mandatory in the depressing world we live in.

My psychiatrist should stop giving me Prozac and Anti-depressants. She should give me chocolate instead. I'm easily depressed and I need constant uplifters. If I eat Prozac everytime I'm depressed, I wouldn't be blogging right now because Moudy and Vaddy would have had to sell the computer and the house to keep my fast-finishing stock of Prozac going. Prozac isn't cheap you know ?

Besides, chocolate is only a stone's throw away from home.

Chocolate is legal, easily attainable, attractive, desirable and also PREVENTS TOOTH DECAY !
Chocolate is the new Prozac !

Sayuri ...

2006-01-30T20:48:00.000+08:00

... is a wicked name, don't you think ? DAMN ! I wish I was named Sayuri instead of boring, plain old _____ ! Sayuri sounds way cooler and more mysterious and exotic !

I should've gone and changed my name when I went to make my IC. It's so typical and hot in Korea right now that Koreans are flocking by the thousands to apply for a name change ! Why can't Singapore be like that ? I'm stuck in this conservatively stifling island where I have to wait till I'm 21 to do it ! PHOOEY !

But I'm a very impatient person. I won't wait SO long to change my identity, I might as well do it now since I'm still supposed to be in the period when I am to explore stranger grounds and find myself.

From here on henceforth, I will be known as Sayuri, Queen of the Mushroom Fairies !

I will sign all my cheques and documents in Gothic font with my new identity. Tres sophistication !

Call me a traitor if you wish, but some Japanese names just sound COOL ! And their analogies are pretty ... ahem, unique too. The eel and the cave. HMM.

Behold ! The Queen, Her Royal Highness, Sayuri !

- HRH Sayuri enters flagged gates with imperious gait, head held high, stops the men in their tracks, silences ball room with brief fluttering of eyes -

Sayuri the Blogger. Everyone will love me.

xD

I HATE KIDS

2006-01-30T13:45:00.000+08:00

I hate kids. They can be such pricks.

Uncle's kids are terrified of their own dogs, their favourite past time is smashing oranges, drumming the trash and dragging chairs. Oh, I forgot to mention. Annoying the wits out of unsuspecting teenagers. Namely, me. Phooey.

If I could just hold them by their ankles and dangle them out the top bedroom window...

Kids should be eligible for World Domination. They should be put under the list of Global Liaisons - right next to Osama Bin Laden and Poverty, perhaps. We should always be on our guard. CONSTANT VIGILANCE !

"I hate kids. I'm not going to babysit them, you do it."

"You can't hate them because you're going to have them."

From the guy who I lost $2 to, to carry one of the icky babies from one point to another. Yours truly, Bruddy.

Kids are fags. Squirmy Wormy annoying little twits. Do not hesitate to shoot at sight.

Memoirs of a Patriot

2006-01-30T00:11:00.000+08:00

It's not everyday I'm proud of my nationality. Once in awhile I come across something so beautiful and unique to behold that I just stand in awe and gawk in wonder and marvel at my apparent stupidity of not being patriotic enough. Then I'll just shrug it off and forget it the next hour because it probably didn't leave that great an impact on me.

This is one of the rare instances, however. The first, I should think. Probably the last, that I am proud to be a Singaporean (: With brilliant directors like Jack Neo who is able to carry out the essence of our current social and familial dilemmas in just a two hour film astounds me.

I Not Stupid 2 is a Work of Art. A masterpiece of a Movie Genius. Jack Neo embodies the epitome of Local Film Directors. I don't suppose Singapore will come across rare talents like him, what with our current population crisis.

It's amazing, it really is astounding. I Not Stupid 2 has left a deep imprint in me. A mark that will probably take a long time to wear off. It might never wear off, I should think.

I am honoured to be living on the same island as Jack Neo and his well-chosen cast and crew. This is the first local movie I've watched that's actually thought-provoking, sensible and tear-jerking. Yes, tear-jerking. Half the Cinema was sniffling away and, for once, I wasn't annoyed. Because I was one of the bawlers too !

Singapore really has Thespian Prodigies ! The government and the entertainment sector should collaborate and market these Asian Jewels for International Film Investments !

Joshua Ang and Shawn Lee are GORGEOUS !!!

Memoirs of a Geisha is a far cry.
Or maybe I'm just biased against non-local talents (:
Singapore can mete out as many movie stars as Hollywood can, if we're given the oppurtunity ! ~~Stupid American Superiority !~~
Good Lord. We'd probably be able to make our very own Boulevard of Stars !

Memoirs of a Geisha really is about a couple of broken-hearted-lost-hope girls bidding their virginity and waiting for their Danna and an expensive shag. The only climax ( no pun intended ) was when Hatsumomo went mad and set the Geisha House on fire. Otherwise, it's just frills and cheap thrills. I'd go so far as to say Memoirs of a Geisha is shallow. Too shallow for Zhang Zi- sorry, Ziyi Zhang's own good.

What is the point of doing a lousy snip-shot movie that'll earn you more criticisms from home and abroad than money ?

Also, I really can't imagine life revolving around pleasing men and going to school just for a night of defloration. It is just so ridiculous. Thank heavens the times have changed ! I would rather eat sand than school and wait for my knight in shining kimono, so to speak. But then again, if I was in that era, I'd probably be of a completely different personality and mentality. And face powder would matter more than blogging. But that's a completely different story.

I Not Stupid 2 has made me realize how fortunate I really am to have a complete, whole and relatively happy family. Parents who love me and have time for me. And a bruddy who, though prickish at times, really is quite charming. I don't have everything I want, and I've always lamented about it. But this is one of the rare times I feel blessed despite the loss.

FAMILY.

Father
And
Mother
I
Love
You