ooh hello!

the brightlight people!
coming soon, after i have time to get back and type it all out on comp. wrote it by hand at 2am in the morning last night, seems like the muse is back for awhile at least. it gets tedious but hand writing is quite satisfying actually.


i asked my mother, what would i be

i went downstairs for a walk just now, and the atmosphere is rich with smoke, some stale some fresh. it’s wafting through to the mezzanine, and if you look carefully you can see faint stains of it on the marble pillars before it drifts away to nothing. all around there are people, dressed up, in various states of undress, queueing for the disco that has haunted and disturbed me for so long. awhile ago i wrote a poem called discotheque, this being the one in question. someone got drunk and fell over the railing and died, and i found that faintly disturbing. so i wanted to go in and see what the fuss was about. being sixteen, nearly seventeen (how time flies, doesn’t it) i was obviously underage, and dressed in a tshirt skirt and flipflops i obviously wasn’t out to party. so everyone there (including the rich old cheekopeks, i think) was looking at me like i was some freak. not to mention my dad had his arm around me, which made it look like i was some little sarong party girl out with her sugar daddy except of course, i couldn’t get in. in any case it’s amazing what a powerful father can do. everyone just parts ways like some red sea and lets you in. it’s quite funny actually. smoke, and mirrors, lots of little flowers, made up to look fresh and pert, yet when they smile you can see the lines at their eyes. it’s quite a sobering experience.

trying to look like you don’t care just gets a wee bit tiring after awhile. it’s this constant expression of forced disinterest, and don’t tell me you don’t do it — everyone does it, whether they realise or not. you’ve got to not care about something, and somehow you’ve just got to show it, no matter what it is you don’t care about.

it just hit me yesterday that in a week i’d be starting school. it’s not unwelcome, actually — i discovered that forced intellectual inactivity is just going to drive me crazy. some things are more beautiful when you discover you can’t have them so easily. it’s like how i read frantically when i don’t have the time to actually sit down and do that, yet when i have time now i’d rather go do something else. it’s weird cos everyone’s musing about their friends and me, i haven’t seen anyone from class except neek and grace since prom. so the fact that it’s gone, it’s all gone, came slowly, i had time to get used to it. closure isn’t something i regret, since it’s not a complete closure and come on, how far is rj from hc anyway, it’s not like the world is ending. the real test is probably after a’s when half the world goes off to ns and the other half heads off to 455867456 different parts of the world. ah well.

negotiating with the dead, hoping something will come alive again.

que sera sera (:

f. scott fitzgerald’s the beautiful and damned. i can’t help thinking how many of us actually want that kind of life,

my auntie told me arts is for dreamy people. can’t help wondering if that’s true,
because it seems really true.

okae will go back to my room.

so where are the deep shelters? there are no deep shelters.

sometimes you really wish you did things better.
got this really horrible feeling about the damn scholarship i wish i never applied for it at all.

anyway the anticipation is killing me. stuck here alone in a foreign country celebrating what doesn’t feel like christmas is just totally weird. i have this feeling i’m going to be doing this for the next few years. hooray to me.

have just realised that i have totally wasted this holidays. and i don’t mean in the way that i’m just sitting around wasting my holidays not doing homework. haven’t felt like my holidays are really HERE yet because in my entire hols the only people i have gone out with are neek wenkai and joel, which are the only three people i talk to online anyway. my god my whole world is down to three people i feel just abit weird. have so many people to catch up with but i haven’t. 4 days after that school will start.

do you know something. if not for humans i wouldn’t touch hc at all. because i’m a sucker for familiarity and if i had to go to arts i would just go to rj and be with the people and the environment i know. so basically if i dont get the scholarship i don’t know wtf i’m gonna do. cos for all the people telling me i’m gonna get it — which with all the shit that i’ve done i probably will — but with that kind of gay score it’s very hard to say.

ahaha abit late for regrets isnt it.

on another note jakarta really rocks. you get treated like a princess here. everyone here sees you and opens doors bows to you says hi serves you without asking and everything is just done for you man. food and drink is free and the room is huge. shopping is cheap hahaha this place rules. ah well will update sometime soon. i miss people in singapore haha it just feels damn weird being 356857445 miles away from people. and jakarta is on bloody high alert cos it’s christmas and the bloody bombs are everywhere. … oh well. seeya soon

i love billy boyd’s voice. steward of gondor, phwoar.
and on another note,

ask really stupid questions and you get equally stupid answers.

and some stupid questions shouldn’t even be answered at all.

yes i’m okay, yes i’m okay, yes i’m okay (nods mechanically)
i’m not trying to convince myself, i’m trying to tell you that.
stop worrying about me, i don’t need you to care.

stop thinking of yourself like you’re the most important person in my life, cos you’re not.
and in any case i wouldn’t listen to you. i’m sorry i’ve been treating you like an amusement.
i think you’re really amusing by the way you try so hard. perhaps it’d be better if we all were gone.

stop acting like you know me. you’re not exactly my best friend in the whole wide world.

let’s not bitch, shall we. tomorrow all of this will end. and i’m glad for it.

okae dude let’s all be renaissance people and write reams of poetry and then run off in a corner and cry because it sucks and no one likes it.


ways to being cool, i think you know them,
the ways you pretend you’re somebody else.
introduce yourself with a fuck, because maybe
everybody likes to fuck, and fuck is cool and so
are you.

wear those clothes. style the hair. dye it, smoke it,
gel it up, make it stand and let everybody see
from miles and miles away people spot you by the
distinctive look. but hey everybody’s
got that look. be swanky, dress yourself up
tie yourself into knots deciding what to wear, save up
for something everyone else has, lookit those
boardshorts!, i’m cool, wear me.

who are you, to me, to her, to yourself? cross your own
path on the road to freedom and maybe you won’t even
recognise yourself. i love the way you walk, talk, eat,
drink sleep dream because little flower, you got way too
much cool around you. i want to be just like you, who
are you?, forget who i am, cos deep down inside i’m just
a little fuck-ing closet wannabe-poseur too.

ohoho. just woke up. says alot. i’m very tired. couldn’t sleep last night and took sleeping pills and evidently they worked too well. go, me. anyway am flying off tomorrow morning to jakarta, will be back on the 29th. have fun all who are going chalet, crashing chalet, celebrating christmas, going army etcetc cos i won’t be here. if i come back, good. if i dont, well. you know da bomb got me. …shouldn’t make promises i can’t keep. i think from now on i should just stay at home and do sth on my own.

Age: 16

Where did you grow up? singapore.

What do you call …

1. a body of water, smaller than a river, contained within relatively narrow banks?
a stream -_- i’m not a geog person.

2. the thing you push around the grocery store?

3. a metal container to carry a meal in?
mess tin?! only thing i know that’s metal. ..

4. the thing that you cook bacon and eggs in?
frying pan.

5. the piece of furniture that seats three people?
a sofa.

6. the device on the outside of the house that carries rain off the roof?

7. the covered area outside a house where people sit in the evening?
porch or patio

8. carbonated, sweetened, non-alcoholic beverages?
soft drinks. hahah some people call it coke some call it soda

9. a flat, round breakfast food served with syrup?

10. a long sandwich designed to be a whole meal in itself?
subs. like SUBWAY! ahahaha.

11. the piece of clothing worn by men at the beach?
trunks, boardshorts, who cares

12. shoes worn for sports?
sports shoes?!

13. putting a room in order?
cleaning up.

14. a flying insect that glows in the dark?

15. the little insect that curls up into a ball?

16. the children’s playground equipment where one kid sits on one side and goes up while the other sits on the other side and goes down?

17. how do you eat your pizza?
i don’t eat the crust that is all.

18. the act of private citizens putting up signs and selling their used stuff?
garage sales.

19. the evening meal?

20. the thing under a house where the furnace and perhaps a rec room are?

love this poem. really love it.

Where are they now, the heroes of furry-paged books and comics
brighter than life which packed my inklined desk in days when BOP meant
Boys’ Own Paper, where are they anyway?

Where is Percy F. Westerman? Where are H. L. Gee and Arthur Mee?
Where is Edgar Rice (the Warlord of Mars) Burroughs, the Bumper Fun Book
and the Wag’s Handbook? Where is the Wonder Book of Reptiles? Where the
hell is the Boy’s Book of Bacteriological Warfare?

Where are the Beacon Readers? Did Ro-ver, that tireless hound,
devour his mon-o-syll-ab-ic-all-y correct family? Did Little Black Sambo
and Epaminondas dig the last sit-in?

Did Peter Rabbit get his when myxomatosis came round the second
time, did the Flopsy Bunnies stiffen to a standstill, grow bug-eyed,
fly-covered and then disintegrate?

Where is G. A. Henty and his historical lads – Wolfgang the Hittite,
Armpit the Young Viking, Cyril who lived in Sodom? Where are their
uncorrupted bodies and Empire-building brains, England needs them, the
Sunday Times says so.

There is news from the Strewelpeter mob. Johnny-Head-In-Air spends
his days reporting flying saucers, the telephone receiver never cools
from the heat of his hand. Little Harriet, who played with matches,
still burns, but not with fire. The Scissorman is everywhere.

Babar the Elephant turned the jungle into a garden city. But things
went wrong. John and Susan, Titty and Roger, became unaccountably afraid
of water, sold their dinghies, all married each other, live in a
bombed-out cinema on surgical spirits and weeds of all kinds.

Snow White was in the News of the World – Virgin Lived With Seven
Midgets, Court Told. And in the psychiatric ward an old woman dribbles
as she mumbles about a family of human bears, they ate porridge, yes
Miss Goldilocks of course they did.

Hans Brinker vainly whirled his silver skates around his head as the
jackboots of Emil and the Detectives invaded his Resistance Cellar.

Some failed. Desperate Dan and Meddlesome Matty and Strang the
Terrible and Korky the Cat killed themselves with free gifts in a back
room at the Peter Pan Club because they were impotent, like us. Their
audiences, the senile Chums of Red Circle School, still wearing for
reasons of loyalty and lust the tatters of their uniforms, voted that
exhibition a super wheeze.

Some succeeded. Tom Sawyer’s heart has cooled, his ingenuity flowers
at Cape Canaveral.

But they are all trodden on, the old familiar faces, so at the
rising of the sun and the going down of the ditto I remember I remember
the house where I was taught to play up play up and play the game though
nobody told me what the game was, but we know now, don’t we, we know
what the game is, but lives of great men all remind us we can make our
lives sublime and departing leave behind us arseprints on the sands of
time, but the tide’s come up, the castles are washed down, where are
they now, where are they, where are the deep shelters? There are no deep
shelters. Biggles may drop it, Worrals of the Wraf may press the button.
So, Billy and Bessie Bunter, prepare for the last and cosmic Yarooh and
throw away the Man-Tan. The sky will soon be full of suns.

nostalgia — now threepence off, adrian mitchell

just a thought. feeling quite disgusted with myself.

it’s testament to my intellectual snobbery that i cannot abide the startling, stumbling lilt of people of decidedly lesser intellect than i. some days i hate myself for it, for thinking them amusing, for treating them like an amusement, like a toy. but to me they can’t be anything else: i can’t talk on the same level as them — i’m not acquainted with their world — and neither do they know mine. to a literature student one of the stupidest errors ever to make is a spelling error. it always seems stupid, even retarded sometimes to me that someone can’t spell or pronounce the simplest of words. i really cannot take it. in my tour group there was a boy called marcus. who liked me and said so. who was from st. gabe’s (no offence). who kept talking to me. which would’ve been fine, if there was ever something to talk about. granted he’s a very nice person. some people found him endearing, that he was so sweet and naive. but he can neither spell, nor pronounce words, nor read, even. his general knowledge is close to zero. his whole world is soccer. and this takes away whatever endearment, sweetness or naivete he has for me. on the plane to barcelona i thought he was sec2. on the plane back i saw his ic, and he was born in 1986. many a time i would have just liked to ignore him but he keeps talking and it’s rude to not listen. the only things we can talk about are sports (on a very limited level) and me teasing him about his harem of girls, who seem to be constantly smsing him.

i’m putting this here cos it’s been disturbing me since i came back and i want to know what other people think.

on another note
the problem with geppers is that we all think we’re too damn smart for the rest of the world. we think we can do anything, everything, that we’re always right, that we’re better, that we know better because we’re, oh, educated better than anyone else in the country. if you get right down to it we’re all intellectual snobs whether we like to admit it or not, we take pleasure in being right. everything is right and wrong and right and wrong. everyone says they hate the ‘smart’ label, but many often tell people who have no substance and talk too much that they’re in gep just to shut them up, just to tell them hey i’m smarter than you, i know these things, don’t talk about things you don’t even know about. my mother, for example. i have a cousin who’s an edb scholar, but graduated from poly. his grades in poly should’ve been good for him to get a scholarship, but to people in top schools when you read his reports you can probably die because of his wonderful english. because he’s the only scholar in the family so far he thinks he’s damn great and goes around sneering at my other cousin, who did his a levels, fucked it up and went to sydney to do his degree because they took him based on his sats. then he goes around asking how everyone did for their o’s because he thinks 16 points is so great cos that could take him to jc but he chose to go poly instead. then that cousin’s sister couldn’t take it and told him to shut up because she got 6 and i got 8 and in his entire life he’s never even gonna reach the level where we’re at. which is mean but people do that. this country likes intellectual snobs — the whole system is based on intellectual snobbery. we love intellectual snobs so much we forget 90% of the population isn’t as smart as we are, then we look at each other like the opposite party are freaks, which we all actually are, because we can’t reconcile stupidity with intelligence and we refuse to believe sometimes the ones we think are dumb know a hell lot more than we do. and when that happens, we should just shut up and listen.

it was only when i met chester again when he was eleven that i realise just how irritating geppers can be, who talk too much and think they know alot.

i found my november 10 issue of newsweek!! -happy-

anyways talk about insomnia. it’s 4.30 oh god i’m waiting for 5 to come so that i can go downstairs and watch some gay chinese serial. go me -_- even mark the 6am fag isn’t online! bah.

in any case i thought my comp was fixed but it turns out it is not. evidently reformatting the whole disk does not help. i’m beginning to think there’s sth wrong with the hard drive ahaha let’s die.

anyway merry christmas!
let’s be gay and put up my wishlist …

1 a copy of steppenwolf
2 a baseball cap! which i blackmailed wenkai into getting ahaha
3 a newsboy cap! cos they look funny
4 a denim skirt
5 jeans that fit (ahaha)
6 a copy of neil gaiman’s smoke and mirrors (can you believe it took me nearly 5 mins to recall its name)
7 ..or stardust!
8 ..or good omens
9 ..or anything related to winnie the pooh!
10 ..or stars!

okay i’m done. (:

bah okae let’s all be worried sick over non-existent things. you! -strangles you- >_<

anywayyy all the photos are out!! digital and normal camera. now i just need to find a site that hosts picture albums. and apparently i have an account at imagestation, which i never even knew existed. hooray to me because i can’t remember the password for nuts.

oh btw i managed to get lots of books! the euro is crazy.
picked up most at the airport, finished franny and zooey by jd salinger (which is good!!), the beautiful and damned by f scott fitzgerald and steppenwolf by HERMANN HESSE!!! i love that book hahahhaa steppenwolf is my king.

… okay risse.

i wanted to say sth just now cept i totally forgot. OH YES I HAVE BOOKS FOR SALE!
most are in mint condition. (i finally cleared out my bookshelf.) er except they’re mostly children’s books (you know those primary school erp assignment books lol) and john grisham rubbish — there are a few good ones around, though. except i don’t read them anymore so no point clogging up my shelf.

email me at exit_haldir[at]hotmail[dot]com if you want the whole list. oh yes and please give me your name etcetc. tell me if you want synopses or whatever. and please tell me before the 23rd! cos i’ll be flying off to jakarta and i’ll be back on the 29th.

i need to return nadia her book.



i am actually just uber bored.

i never knew it was possible to alternately love and hate someone so much.
these two weeks have taught me that.

come back soon, even if i don’t know when.
you haven’t killed me yet.

ah, hello. never have i been so glad to get home before.

spain was beautiful, but i have discovered 2 weeks away from home and computer is too much for me. i think it’s partly because my dad wasn’t around, because it would’ve been more bearable had i a laptop to keep in touch with some people some of the time. in any case the tour had about 24 people, which is quite a nice size since everyone had 2 seats to themselves in the coach — which i may mention was a very comfortable coach.

i usually hate conducted tours because you have to wake up at ungodly hours of the day and drag yourself out often before the sun awakes. i suppose after going about 5 years on your own you really begin to appreciate someone else planning your itinerary for you, as well as deciding where to eat your meals and all that — a subject of contention in my family since forever cos we’re all indecisive bastards as some people will testify.

however this tour was really good cos the people were really nice — except we were a little horrified that nearly all the women in the tour were teachers save my mum and 3 others. mind you the male-female ratio is a little lopsided. met this family of four that were really really nice to me and my mum — they have 2 sons called augustine and desmond (ok no one make any funny comments) they’re 27 and 25 but they’re really funny and they’re damn nice. august calls me a hamster cos i store food up and eat it reaaallly slowly. so in return i called him a monkey cos he likes to eat peanuts, of which there were plenty since nearly every chinese restaurant we ate in offered them. i swear chinese restaurants in spain have egg as their staple dish or something. they have egg in every single restaurant and i mean fried egg you know like chye poh omelette im just like okae let’s all con caucasians into eating weird shit like omelettes that pass for chinese food.

euro exchange rate is crazy. euro keeps going up and us dollar keeps dropping. reason i know this is because firstly i’m in europe (d’oh) and secondly everything in spanish hotels is — tada! — in spanish and the only thing that is in english happens to be cnn. hooray pro american channels. also, i discovered they show japanese anime in spain except like everything else it is in spanish. do you know how ridiculous it is to be watching japanese anime in spanish when you’re chinese and speak english?! oh and i also discovered that german tv (because they do screen german tv channels) is like infiltrated with porn galore because it’s national tv! for god’s sakes! there was like this crazy sex show where they had to answer questions related to the porn industry and if they got it wrong they had to strip off one part of their clothing! (this information i got with you know, inference.) what is this! anyway i watched it long enough to figure wtf was going on before i changed the channel only to find another porn channel. my god i give up watching tv in spain all there is is porn and cnn. let’s just die. ..

so i learnt some spanish. the most random words ever. i learnt that gracias means thank you, naranja means orange, melocoton means peach, salida means exit, hola means hello, leche means milk, pollo means chicken. we had a lovely time trying to describe to the waiter what a fish was when desmond just gave up and said ‘nemo! you know nemo? -makes some hand sign describing fish-‘ and the guy went AH and mumbled some unintelligible spanish word which we presumed meant fish. oh and by the way tortilla in spain means OMELETTE please don’t make the mistake of ordering 4 ‘tortillas’ like we did and die of egg overdose after that.

mango and zara are quite cheap there. didn’t buy much though. didn’t really like madrid although my friend went crazy after seeing the real madrid stadium (the name eludes me) cos he ran up and down the bus screaming ‘RONALDO!!!’ after that. good grief.

weather was good. 10-15 most of the time, rained for a few days but it was sunshine in the second week. by the way spanish flamenco dances, phwoar. it’s so violent i wonder the floor hasn’t cracked yet. and a 70+ year old woman could do it. gee. tons of gypsies! and therefore tons of pickpockets. it’s crazy the things they think up to pick money off you. then again i suppose you have to be creative in this sort of line. went to (in order) barcelona, valencia, alicante, peniscola, torremolinos, granada, gibraltar, seville, lisbon, salamanca, madrid. crazy whirlwind journey. but my god it was fun.

it’s weird to come back and have culture shock in your own country. spain is so full of culture and life, there’s so much vibrance in it it hurts to come back and look at singapore. the hilltop views are fantastic both in the day and night, and the architecture of every single building in their cities is totally unique, they’re all different. they’re all fantastically balconied and decorated for christmas and there are little shops here and there bustling with old people young people and there are buskers out on the streets selling artwork music performances phwoar. i love it. many of the older ones complained it was abit boring because spain is a catholic country so what you see is mostly churches and castles and squares (their squares are fantastic) but there’s just so much history and culture behind it it grows on you. then there are so many narrow cobblestoned streets and the pavements on the main avenue are wide and spacious and everyone around you is talking and laughing. the little children run around bundled up in their little winter coats they look so cute.

the churches are great. there’s just this overwhelming sense of grandeur and somnolence the moment you walk in and it’s just like, phwoar. the stained glass is beautiful, restored or not, and the light pours in and illuminates you while you walk down the aisles and breathe in the atmosphere. the chapels, the ceilings, floors, columns, walls, facade — everything is lovingly created by some dedicated artist, dedicated to god working in his god-given gift for god — it’s wonderful. everything is so beautiful and holy and magical. the sagrada familia in barcelona is still under construction but it already looks wonderful — architects say it’ll take till 2022 to totally finish it. man, i want to go back just to see it. then there are so many parks and boulevards, flowers and fruit trees lining the streets and the shops and even the people are colourful. the rivers flow by while people walk along the esplanade (which incidentally looks a hell lot better than ours) it’s just happiness, happiness, happiness. there’s love everywhere around me it’s amazing.

the flight to and fro was terrible though. took about 24 hours in all to get there because we stopped over in like 3069536 places. singapore to bangkok to helsinki to barcelona, and on the way back it was madrid to stockholm to helsinki to bangkok to singapore. it’s crazy. stopped over at helsinki for 7 hours last night and spent most of it trying to while away the time playing tai ti. then bridge. then heart attack. then bluff. then pictionary. then hangman. then drunken elephant without the drunken elephant parts. i was bored shitless. the only thing good about stopping in helsinki was that it was SNOWING! HAHAHA. was about -2 outside so we checked out for awhile and played in the snow then went in again. ahhaha it was shit cold but it was damn fun.

took lots of pictures but my computer is down yet again. will call my cousin tomorrow to come and fix it sometime, so meanwhile i’ll be on my mum’s comp again. will try and find to cable to connect my camera to this comp and then upload somewhere. does anyone know a nice picture hosting site that hosts in album form and is like, free?

ah well. had a good trip. but was yearning to come back somehow. except there’s no one to talk to cos everyone’s away. i think i should just camp at home and read till i go to jakarta.

in any case someone tell me what time to report for de-trash so i can arrange my schedule? haha thanks (:


on a cobweb afternoon
in a room full of emptiness
by a freeway i confess
i was lost in the pages
of a book full of death
reading how we’ll die alone
and if we’re good we’ll lay to rest
anywhere we want to go

in your house i long to be
room by room, patiently
i’ll wait for you there
like a stone
i’ll wait for you there

on my deathbed i will pray
to the gods and the angels
like a pagan to anyone
who will take me to heaven
to a place i recall
i was there so long ago
the sky was bruised
the wine was bled
and there you led me on

in your house i long to be
room by room, patiently
i’ll wait for you there
like a stone
i’ll wait for you there

and on i read
until the day was gone
and i sat in regret
of all the things i’ve done
of all that i’ve blessed
and all that i’ve wronged
in dreams until my death
i will wander on

in your house i long to be
room by room, patiently
i’ll wait for you there
like a stone
i’ll wait for you there

audioslave – like a stone

how.. absolutely painful.

so, spain, from 3rd to 15th. i’ll miss people, i know. maybe some will miss me too.
but there’s time. there’s still time, somehow. i will see you again

hi all, prom’s over. no one cried, because no one wanted to spoil their makeup.

it’s kindof funny walking around town at midnight cos there are no people and there are no cars, only taxis, and watching people play pool at 2 is a surreal experience. especially when you’ve been walking outside the place only to get propositioned, to put it nicely, by weird looking males who seem to have exceeded the age limit for sexual intercourse twice over.

but for what it’s worth, it was fun. the running around getting hair and makeup done — there is something inherently bimbotic about that i know — but it’s not everyday you get to do it, and hey we’re all girls after all. grace — contrary to popular belief — looked very good in her gold/redbluegreen getup and has red and orange highlights in her hair to show for it. yinshan looked like everybody’s favourite mamasan (which tells you more or less the rest of us looked like hookers HAHA) and neek made her appearance as TEH vamp. oh calista looked smashing really. my god that is the best lolita costume i’ve seen in awhile. and it’s daaaamn funky haha (: sara finally found her top 4 hours before prom, and kitfei looked damn good. but. BUT. BUT. i’m never gonna forget the way amy seow and fiona sng looked omg. fiona looked daaaaaaaamn good yesterday night hahaha such a big difference from the usual fiona =p i suppose there has to be a day when everybody looks lovely. no sense waiting till your wedding day to look pretty. haha.

photos later, cos my camera ran out of battery halfway through prom. sad, i know, but i got some good ones in before that, though. which is good. is all good.

bought pants today! corduroys. nice and warm and comfy. that’s like my favourite feeling these days! nice and warm and comfy (: feel happy!

oh one more thing. CHOONHWEE IS OUR KING

lol girls just wanna have fun (: