hmm no i don’t really know what to say, actually.

looking through my cap portfolio and digging up memories. it is weird how so many things can be seen through your writing. they are cringeworthy, they are all cringeworthy, perhaps, but they are still so much a part of you. maybe it’s because i write based on emotion. and i can recall every single episode i wrote on, to this day. ah, the dangers of a good memory.

today was such a good day (: sometimes i think i make myself happy by imagining things. in any case dinner at marche with ms ting and charmaine was such a wonderful experience; it is surreal listening to your teacher talk about sex, really. she rocks my socks! i miss her teaching; it was so open, so receptive, so unteacher-like. went to kinokuniya after that and spent nurul’s present! thank you nurul (: am happy, am happy. new books and nice dinners and happy days make me smile lots. haha. (:

mm some people look really weird in hc uniform. haha zarine says it’s like downgrading! -is amused- people like keith and peanut and gavin and (haha) joel look lots better in hc uniform! maybe it’s because they’ve been wearing shorts all their lives.. ms ting and peck have this theory that fresh air is conducive for leg hair growth: it’s the shorts that cause the hairy legs! haha i am terribly amused.

i like smiles! smiles are nice. it makes me happy to see some people smile yes. my opinion on that hasn’t changed much, really. another thing: i keep jacking myself. i must be like the best self-jacker around– i think i beat ian hands down. …

mm yes chocolate.


you know what i miss about jakarta?
the souffle.

nowhere else have i found better souffle than in the hotel my father stays in (permanently) and everytime i go there i must eat it or my trip to jakarta is not complete. now i’m just hungering for the taste of it and it is nowhere to be found. chocolate! chocolate sauce dripping all over the place and ultra light souffle! oh man -dies of bliss- sigh.

ooh, the sweetest thing

hmm! got uniform today. looks abit weird and almost too brown. at least i look ok in it (and han begs to differ) so it’s not so bad ahaha. wish i had souffle to eat now! am wishing for warm chocolate sauce >_< ok i should stop tempting myself like now. today was a happy day, more or less; even though i had a history test to study for. hrm probably because .. well nevermind. it was a nice day. (:

the weather is good for sleeping. am very happy to be able to sleep without worries for once. except for cap portfolio, which is due tmr! will do it later when i wake up or something.

wish some people would talk more.

chocolate sauce! (:

i interrupt my mugging time to bring you this:
(on the orders of keith. if this isn’t obvious enough i don’t know what is)

keeping up appearances
keeping up with the jones’
fooling my selfish heart
going through the motions

but i’m fooling myself
i’m fooling myself
cos you say you love me
and then you do it again, you do it again
you say your sorrys
then you do it again, you do it again

everybody thinks you’re well
everybody thinks i’m ill
watching me fall apart
falling under your spell

but you’re fooling yourself
you’re fooling yourself
cos you say you love me
then you do it again, you do it again
you say you’re sorry
then you do it again, you do it again
and again and again and again and again

we’re fooling ourselves.

ok too many people read this, but i have to say it anyway.

this is why gep kids should not rule singapore

firstly, stop it with the gep thing already. we’re all in jc (or older) and we’re all out of the system, so why bother putting yourself on a pedestal? the issue is sensitive enough as it is already, and i see no point in making things worse by emphasizing the split of gep and nongep anymore than it is now. comments that are particularly divisive do no good to either party; you’re just making others feel uncomfortable and somewhat inadequate (yes i’m just generalising here, i say this only because i’ve heard it firsthand from someone who isn’t a gepper) and making the rest of us look like a bunch of elitist snobs.

i admit i am also somewhat disturbed by the fact that yesterday the entire orchard road was infested with gep people holding cans and going around asking people to donate money. like seriously, who the hell is going to donate to you the moment they see your tshirt, which proudly proclaims ‘GEP 20th anniversary’?! it seems to me like an act of total elitism; like what the hell are you trying to do, separating the geps from the rest of the world? like we aren’t treated as freaks enough already. i think MOE is in need of a serious wake-up call. if the rest of singapore’s parents didn’t feel sore at their own kids not getting into gep already, they do now. i was somewhat disgusted yesterday by everything that i saw and all i have to say is that i’m pretty glad i’m not in it anymore and do not have to involve myself in such a farce.

secondly, if you didn’t already know: being in gep doesn’t mean shit. seriously it doesn’t, and i know there are too many people out there who won’t believe me because they’ve been on the ‘losing end of things’, as they put it. it’s easy for me to say here because i haven’t experienced the stigma that comes from not being in gep, you say, and i tell you while part of that is true most of it is not. people in gep have their own set of problems, and please remember that the ratio of gep:nongep is like, you know, 1:100. which is a pathetically small minority in case you hadn’t realised. so if you look at things clearly, we’re aren’t really winning much at all. you come out of school realising that in the workforce, the main thing that lets you stay in your job is the ability to work, not study or whatever crap it is they make us do. and that really has nothing much to do with education and whatever stream you’re in, since there are so many factors that determine how well you can do in the real world. geez.

i have this feeling this is going to degenerate into a whining session but if you didn’t already notice being in gep isn’t always a good thing. so many people out there write you off as some mugger straightaway, or they assume you’re like some superintelligent being and therefore that you’re some lousy elitist snob that won’t talk to them so they won’t even talk to you, and everyone else’s parents looks at you and goes: what’s so good about being in gep anyway, my daughter still did better than yours, and yes of course everybody slams you when you don’t do as well. like hell, we didn’t choose to get here. it’s not that fun being excluded from the rest of society, and i’d like to see you try it and see how you like it.

and then: there are the real elitist snobs. please, stop making the rest of us look bad. i know you think being in gep is like some great thing and that you really are that intelligent, but please keep in mind that just because other people are in mainstream it doesn’t mean they’re any less smarter than you are. stop saying ‘you mainstreamers’ like geppers are gods and they’re like some puny little mortal to do your bidding. like really, wtf. get a life. you realise that at the end of the day you’re going to have to work with them someday, and putting yourself on some pedestal which doesn’t even exist isn’t going to get you anywhere or garner you much respect.


i heard this on the way home; what a sad song!

somewhere there’s speaking
it’s already coming in
oh and it’s rising at the back of your mind
you never could get it
unless you were fed it
now you’re here and you don’t know why

under skinned knees and the skid marks
past the places where you used to learn
howl and listen, listen and wait for the
echoes of angels who won’t return

he’s everything you want
he’s everything you need
he’s everything inside of you that you wish you could be
he says all the right things at exactly the right time
but he means nothing to you and you don’t know why

waiting for someone to put you together
waiting for someone to push you away
there’s always another wound to discover
there’s always something more you wish he’d say

he’s everything you want
he’s everything you need
he’s everything inside of you
that you wish you could be
he says all the right things
at exactly the right time
but he means nothing to you and you don’t know why

but you’ll just sit tight and watch it unwind
it’s only what you’re asking for
and you’ll be just fine with all of your time
it’s only what you’re waiting for

out of the island into the highway
past the places where you might have turned
you never did no less but you still hide away
from the anger of angels who won’t return

he’s everything you want
he’s everything you need
he’s everything inside of you that you wish you could be
he says all the right things at exactly the right time
but he means nothing to you and you don’t know why

i am everything you want
i am everything you need
i am everything inside of you that you wish you could be
i say all the right things at exactly the right time
but i mean nothing to you and i don’t know

–vertical horizon

had a long talk with nurul, shuki and keith this afternoon at venezia. it was good; i don’t really know why, but it was good. let out alot of things and realised alot more. sushi was so good! sigh. i must’ve eaten icecream four times today. i think i’m going to explode.

unnecessary manipulation.

faithful minion! i couldn’t stop laughing.

some days i am like shuki and ian; i keep shooting myself in the foot with whatever i say.

so many things could happen, but waiting is all you can do, sometimes.

thank you you people for the puzzle! thank you so so much.

i think one of the reasons why people like blogging so much is because it feels like you’re telling somebody something, even though you don’t know who that somebody is. in fact it’s probably better that you don’t know who it is because there’s not really anyone to judge you. i never understood the use of private online blogging because it doesn’t really serve much purpose. maybe because it just means that nothing gets said and no one knows anything at all.

perhaps we all feel this compulsive need to put up a front whether we think it’s necessary or not, and deliberately show the cracks that are forming through. it’s like extended acting. the thought of this, while i’m still in this woozy detached mood, is actually quite amusing.

i am beginning to find lots of things amusing these days.

and i have realised yet again, as i was telling nurul today: that people are unnaturally nice to me even though i’m like this complete bum. it is unnatural and it is just scary. it is like sec4 all over again when cindy brought her books specially for me when i missed school the day before, and i didn’t even ask her for it, she just assumed i would need it. chew called me up today to ask me what size i wore and for a moment i thought she was going to get me underwear again, like she has been for the last 3 years. and then i realised she took me up on my challenge and actually found me a skirt. now i feel extremely guilty. i think i’m like this nice+weird people magnet. this is totally bizarre.

please don’t talk to me about her right now. it’s easy for you to say, it’s easy for me to say, but it’s not that easy. it’s not that i can’t let go, i just can’t deal with your pain and mine at the same time. there are things i can do to convince myself that i can get over it and eventually i will, but i can’t deal with you as well. i really can’t. today i was in lt5 and everyone’s pain kept crashing down on me, the pain and the voices and it just felt unnaturally heavy, the air. and everything was just quiet, and everyone seems to be leaving. i held it till i could hold it no longer and then i let it go. and then there was history which thankfully took my mind off things a little. it is strange how work can numb your mind.

i have this nagging feeling that i will be the victim of a conspiracy tomorrow.

in less than two hours i will be seventeen and i’m not entirely sure i want to be. seventeen seems too far off for someone like me and sometimes i just don’t want to grow up. ‘perhaps you might have been less diffident, you might, you might; but time will not relent’ — sometimes i wish i could stay in sec4 forever, but the magic must hurry on though you still remain. i went to collect my yearbook today and spent the entire bus ride in silence. complete silence, and for once it felt weird that i wasn’t talking at all. like i felt like i should have been talking but i wasn’t. just stared straight ahead and fiddled abit and kept silent till i got off the bus. i don’t know how uncomfortable it felt but it was quite uncomfortable; i kept wanting to turn around but i didn’t. it is quite unnerving then to turn around to say goodbye and find someone already smiling at you.

mm yes, talking in circles. who am i kidding? i do it the most out of all of you.

dunno la okae i dont care anymore. stop asking me cos i dunno anything.

like if you wanna tell me sth just tell me straight can. you dont need to like go round and round and round in circles keeping me guessing what youre gonna say next and what youre gonna do next and seriously i dont even know why the hell i bother with you these days. and some other people are just going round and round and round in circles as well and people keep telling me things and im just like huh all the way through and why do i go around not noticing anything at all. like wtf is this this is like ultimate fagginess man. why does everyone around me talk in circles what the hell isnt there anything nowadays that people tell me straight to my face?! arghhhh.

-mumbles at people who dont talk straight-

everyone came up to me today and hugged me, and patted my shoulders, my back, smiled at me like someone died. ji2 an1 shun4 bian4, they all seemed to say with that look in their eyes. i watched as she hugged everyone around her, as she said goodbye to her family, to her boyfriend, to me, to her boyfriend, to everyone. i watched as she disappeared behind the counter, behind the scaffolding of the airport renovations.

yet i have nothing to say because this is not the end.

adia i do believe i failed you
adia i know i’ve let you down
don’t you know i tried so hard
to love you in my way
it’s easy, let it go

adia i’m empty since you left me
trying to find a way to carry on
i search my soul and everyone’s
to see where we went wrong
there’s no one left to finger
there’s no one here to blame
there’s no one to talk to, honey
and there ain’t no one to buy our innocence

cos we are born innocent
believe me, adia, we are still innocent
it’s easy, we all falter
does it matter

adia i thought we could make it
i know i can’t change the way you feel
i leave you with your misery
a friend who won’t betray
pull you from your tower
and take away your pain
show you all the beauty you possess
if you’d let yourself believe

cos we are born innocent
believe me, adia, we are still innocent
it’s easy, we all falter
does it matter

–sarah mclachlan

oh, if you were looking for something to get me for my birthday, and you like, have alot of cash to spare, you could look into getting me a 500-piece jigsaw puzzle that has 500 pictures of winnie the pooh individually on each piece that make up an entire winnie the pooh. it is at jigsaw world (or some name like that) at suntec/centrepoint!

EDIT: KEITH IS BUYING FOR ME! ((((((((((: keith is such a nice person!

been reading people’s blogs.

i don’t understand people my age, sometimes. the people around me who don’t actually think like me, do things the same way as i do. not the people i meet in school, or family friends. the people out there, people i know but don’t really know, they are the ones who fail their papers and get kicked out of school, smoke and drink and do drugs and get caught, make girls pregnant, form bands that actually amount to something, have dreams they’re willing to go all out to fulfil because there’s nothing much else they can lose. i don’t understand people like that.

they are the ones who jump into love the moment they see it. the ones who treat every single infatuation they come across like some kind of god-given commitment. the ones who play by the rules when it comes to these things, who take it to extremes, who declare their love for each other all over the place and everywhere and live to regret it when the time comes to part. the ones who invent silly nicknames for each other, and more often than not it’s ‘baby’, who take silly pictures, who centre their lives around each other, who get depressed when there are relationship problems.

and i think, why did this never happen to me?

was it because i lived among different people and i thought different things? was it because i was indoctrinated with too many incidences of betrayal, had i been taught too often to be careful? why do i never trust someone when they say they love me, why do i always think they don’t mean it? will i ever know the meaning of love? do they?

it makes me uncomfortable, really. nearly everything these days about relationships makes me uncomfortable. especially in people i see. and i’m wondering if it’s right, if it should be that way. if it’s not why are there so many people believing in it? if it is why are there still unbelievers? are we all deluded in some way or another?

ah! and still we are dazzled by the simplistic romantic view of mushy plots in movies! we are moved to tears when the wayward husband returns to his absolutely gorgeous but very upset wife! we still squee like little girls when prince charming comes along, and smile like crazy when some boy gives us flowers! i don’t understand people. i don’t even understand myself.

displaying it so openly in front of people. it’s like a public performance, sometimes. i wonder if that’s all it is. sometimes you think that you like privacy and then the next second you can’t help letting people know. this is all weirddd and i don’t know why the hell i’m trying to even figure it out when it has nothing to do with me. geez.

i can’t believe i’m complaining about how much i don’t want to go to rj when at this time a year ago i was worrying about what would happen if i couldn’t. ha, the ironies of life.

we must get over this, you and i.


was looking through my black notebook and sometimes you can’t help closing your eyes thinking how stupid you were. the writing, however retarded, is still mine. i can see myself in it and that’s good. that tells me i can still recognise myself.

this was my entry a year ago:

well i said i’d leave by 800 entries, and this is the last one i’ll post here, after which i’ll make my entire diary private or sth, i guess. i already overshot by one (this one) counting all the dud entries that od refuses to let me delete. meanwhile, though, goodbye. it’s been fun, but this place gets tiring. i have a few blogs around the place, i guess, and if someone’s nice enough to give me an lj code maybe i’ll switch to lj. you could probably email and ask me for my new address or something, although i wouldn’t really know who reads my blog anymore since blogger doesn’t allow people to leave notes, and i can’t be bothered to install one of those thingamajigs. it’s better that way, i guess.

on another note, after dling the hours i watched lotr again on computer as well as the pianist in the cinema with the geog people yesterday. also dled gravitation over the past two days, and now i’ve finished watching those too. it’s nice seeing an anime series that doesn’t discriminate once in awhile.

ah well. enough of this. goodbye

considering how public this blog has gotten i feel amused. reminds me of what joel said last night.

the sars break did wonderful things to my mind.


watched cat in the hat yesterday! i couldn’t stop laughing throughout the whole thing. it really is very amusing (: too bad no one else besides me and ian got the jokes it was like .. damn sad. -_-


suxin says: it’s so easy to like someone when he is around.
it’s so easy to like everyone when they are the only ones around.


my cousin lent me 4 books on economics so now i have more books to read. they are actually quite interesting cos they don’t talk about economics per se at all! economic philosophy. hell yeahhhh. oh went to borders today with my dad and bought 4 books for price of 3! got jeanette winterson’s oranges are not the only fruit and uh, the evolution of war. which looked really interesting. mmmm books to read. my dad thinks i’m mad. then he bought the book that says ‘what to do with your life’ — i think that was a hint, haha. ahh well.


perhaps all is good this way.

you asked me what you should do with your life: i couldn’t answer you– how could i? so i asked you in return what you wanted in life, and you told me you wanted to be happy. so do i, my dear friend, so do i. how can i possibly give you happiness? could anyone? could anyone give you more than just a splitsecond of what qualified as bliss? how happy can i make you, it depends on how much i love you. and sadly those days are past. i can’t make you happy anymore than you can give me love. i walked with you aimlessly for the first time in two years and for once you weren’t complaining, because there wasn’t anything to complain about. the basis for complaint has given way, our threads cut loose. there’s always been a wall– perhaps i built most of it myself. these days i walk with you and when people see us, i feel sad because they start thinking things that aren’t true, but the thing that makes me sad is that we actually had a history to build upon. it is a strange feeling. yesterday we ran over the same old ground and i found the same old fears. i told you jokingly not to go out with her too often, because you’d get sick of each other way too soon. you laughed and brushed me off, told me never!, smiled and we walked into the train together. but deep down perhaps you know it is true. you have seen it played out before.

i can’t disclose your identity (actually i could) because that would lay me too open. it always comes down to me, as always, it’s always my concerns i’m taking into consideration first. but i suspect everyone (or most people) already know who you are. my dealings with you (i make it sound like a business transaction– love for sale, perhaps) have been chronicled endlessly already, i have a tendency to do that. i almost remember every single detail of my time with you. it scares me, you scared me, you still do. we have so much between us left unsaid. a trust that i trust we will not betray each other with. some things are best left unspoken between the two of us. just between the two of us.


reading sylvia plath always gives me the shivers. it reminds me too often of other people, of things we have all gone through. perhaps i dig it up too often for comfort. poppies in july, poppies in october– it’s like how the poppy titillates the senses, and plath expresses it through the ‘fumes’, the poppies ‘wrinkly and clear red’, the capsules being ‘nauseous’, and how the flowers ‘burn’; but the numbing effect, like the poppy, is achieved through attacking the senses, through bleeding, through cutting. the idea that pain, intense pain, can actually numb. i’ve never understood that concept. i’ve never been able to stand in front of myself holding a knife and telling myself i love the way this feels on my skin. i can’t do it. i see the gleam that emphasises its sharpness, almost like a knife itself, perhaps the light alone could cut me. don’t fix it if it ain’t broke. why destroy myself when there is so much left undone? and yes i am afraid. i am afraid that if i tilt the knife the right way even the light will slice past me and there will be nothing left. is that why i content myself with drawing on myself? on other people? if you think hard enough a pen feels much like a knife. if you press hard enough and write hard enough you might actually bleed. have you seen the way blood and ink mix together? too often you can’t tell the difference, it all turns black. black love flowing under my veins, nurul writes. it is love, both of them, if you think hard enough. inkstained fingers and papercuts– it happens to me all too often. i think if there is anything more scary than cutting yourself it is writing on yourself. long passages all the way around, like your body is a canvas and you are a work of art. or the idea that a pen can cut paper. is that why we write? to destroy, defile each piece of paper– it certainly is preferable to destroying, defiling yourself. at least it doesn’t hurt so much for you.


ha– sex. is it true that the more you do it, the less you value it? is sex a commodity to be sold on the market? it certainly applies. these days you could sell anything and no one would blink. there is actually quite a high demand for it. especially the kind that involves pain. i don’t think i would think any less of you if you did it. probably because somehow everyone is guilty of the same sin. you are young, yes, and so am i. through the pains of adolescence each of us struggle and somehow we make it through. perhaps your way is different from mine. my ways of releasing pain have not got as far as the physical, yet. someday my prince will come.


everything up till tomorrow– can’t wait for friday.
could tomorrow come before yesterday is over, bernice?

been talking to people lots these days; in some way i am glad for the holidays.

i love andi! really i do. i love the entire isolde bunch because it is they who keep me alive through these long and dreary months without intellectual food in school.

running over the same old ground
what have we found?
the same old fears.

it’s true how we come back to things again and again. things like love which can’t be explained. had a long talk with andi about love just now– it’s scary, almost, how you can’t help falling in love. could you help falling out of it? questions, questions. i like long talks. they make me happy because they make me think.

you cannot find peace by avoiding life, leonard

it is a week to my birthday! my daddy is coming home soon to celebrate it with me; i feel like a little kid all over again, waiting for my father to come home, hoping he’ll bring something back. this year it is different, i just hope his heart is here, like it has been these years. i am happy just to have him back. sometimes you don’t know how much you miss somebody until you don’t see them anymore. when is love toleration? and when is love longing? why is the measure of love loss? i wonder if anyone could tell me. meanwhile we do not busy ourselves with seeking the meaning of life; what we see is never the beginning of happiness– it always just is.

to look life in the face, to know it for what it is, and to love it for what it is: and then– to put it away. always the hours between us, leonard, always the hours.

today i asked ian what the date for last tuesday was. it struck me after awhile that it is the 16th of march, and i discover to my horror that time passes way too soon.

it doesn’t really make sense
i have been staring out this window forever

i will spare everyone the agony of buying me a present so i will not post a wishlist. i don’t know what i want every year, but this year it seems particularly true. i don’t know what i want at all, except maybe to be happy. but happiness isn’t something anyone can give me, and perhaps like ian says i have to go and look for it myself. you never know, after all, whether what you’re giving me is happiness, or not, depending of course on how much i love you– or maybe even how much you love me. if i loved you then everything and anything in the world you gave me would make me smile.

don’t you think love is such a fickle word? it changes its meaning to so many different people so easily, so quickly; nobody really knows what it is. we’ve been through this before, the isolde bunch, we’ve talked about it so many times and in the end we have no answer. but it doesn’t stop us all from tearing and feeling that pang in the heart whenever we read h/d fics, i have to admit, though i’m fascinated by the dynamics of that relationship i still go crazy over the excessively sweet ones. yes, even if it is between two boys. so many years trying to define for ourselves what we don’t know, yet we accept, knowingly, the cliches that permeate our existence. moved by it, even. perhaps it shows we are still human.

perhaps it’s time i follow my own advice: let go. i am too often carelessly practical, pragmatic when it comes to others’ emotions, yet when it comes to my own i dither and dally and go all wishy-washy and hope that by some miraculous stroke of luck god will be on my side. i have discovered this is not the case, and all i have been doing is (once again) inflicting unnecessary torture on myself. i take my cue from my best friend and realise that slowly, slowly it is fading, and i no longer ache. very soon i will begin to see fragments of someone on everyone else’s faces. bits and pieces but never quite there. perhaps it was, just a pleasant interlude. in any case i refuse to think about it any further and perhaps living my own life is the best thing to do. so many other friendships to save, so many other things to think about. i’d be lying if i said i didn’t feel marginally happier. the only thing i will miss are the silences.

remember: the enemy’s gate is down. reorient yourself, and in that moment, up becomes north, down becomes south, right becomes east, left becomes west; and the gravity that exists outside the battleroom doesn’t matter anymore. like bean: we are young, but we are not children. viewing things from another perspective can possibly only do you good. in all possibility it helps you win battles. thank you, nurul, for helping me look at things the other way.

it’s entirely possible that people know me better than i know myself: jeanette winterson says, you are like a pool of clear water reflecting light, you can’t see what i can see. it’s entirely possible, and it scares me sometimes. when you are living in constant fear of impending violation you begin to treasure what private moments you have inside your head.

a few days ago i wrote a letter to pris and in that notepad i unearthed a dedication to jean danker that i never sent. it surprises me how a girl can change so much in four years, how vastly different you think when you are thirteen and when you are seventeen. adolescent foolishness, i look at it and cannot help cringing. perhaps because it brings back so many memories, the times when i was a naive little girl thinking love was something i was mature enough to understand, how i felt capable enough to carry out a relationship (sounds like a mission, haha) with a sixteen year old boy who subsequently fell away like a dream, people i don’t talk to anymore. i was naive, i was happy, i was thirteen years old. everyone went through a really angsty stage which i myself am ashamed to admit existed, and yet it is so much a part of me, like everything else i have been through. now i am seventeen (or will be soon) and though i’m not that naive anymore there are still so many things i don’t know. i daresay i am happier now than i was when i was a little girl, probably because i’m an optimistic person despite everything. surprising, isn’t it.

some days i look at all these little girls; so little, really– and i want to scream at them for being so myopic, so indulgent, so utterly naive. there is a time when all girls think they know everything and that the world is against them. more often than not it involves boys and the pain of adolescent rejection. but of course as one of those guo4 lai2 people i can afford to talk, after all hindsight is always 20/20. when i was younger i made my own mistakes too, and some of them bear a price i could never afford to pay if anything really happened. it pains me how i can never truly console one of these little girls because i am too preoccupied with the fact that i think they are being totally idiotic. of course they know it will blow over. it is only how long it takes.

so: looking for love in all the wrong places. sometimes little girls have an immense propensity to go looking for trouble. then they get hurt. everyone hates to see little girls get hurt, except when little girls think they’re adults. then i feel like slapping them. really, i do. but i suppose we’re all like that: i think i would slap myself a thousand times over if a thirteen-year old me came to talk to the me i am now.

i’m beginning to realise how my sixteenth year was just a dream. it was a complete dream and now that i look back on it it seems entirely surreal. fourtwelve was paradise– really it was. i’ll never have something like that again, but thank god i have had it, at least for a year. with boys things are so much more complicated, and people change, everyone is split up into a million different pieces with different parts of you for different people to see, people change, people change so much. the speed of change astounds me, and yet it is all we can do to move on. yet i think there was a time, at least once, where i thought i loved every single one of them, every single one, even the ones that hurt me, and the ones that helped me through. i suppose we all trip on reality once in awhile.

i would kill you if anything happened to my parents. i don’t know if i love them, but perhaps i do. maybe because there’s so much of my parents in me, and you can’t instinctively hate yourself; it’s possible that you love everything you don’t hate. is there a neutral ground? should there be one? would i like to be neutral and it’s possible the answer is no. i say it’s possible because i don’t know and i’m too lazy to find out. i am drowning in possibilities these days, it’s possible, everything is possible. which is why i am where i am today. everything is possible if only i try.

down in the flood of remembrance, and i weep like a child for the past — d h lawrence.

there are times when you don’t just die when you lie to yourself.

he doesn’t break the things you love; it keeps running in my head, round in circles and it’s got nowhere to go. i think of keith and wish that he was here to help me out. (the stupidest reasons are pulling me back) but keith is all the way in shanghai, and so i’ll have to go the whole week finding someone else to listen to me. i need to talk to somebody nice! nevermind there’s always neek. (: will be seeing her on thursday! and friday! and saturday! am happy. i feel like a little kid all over again.

can someone please answer my questions, it gets on my nerves sometimes.

my god i don’t know what the hell is happening anymore.

my head is going round in circles, faint denial, how terribly traumatising, all of this is.

‘frighten me? yes you do frighten me. you act as though we will be together forever. you act as though there is infinite pleasure and time without end. how can i know that? my experience has been that time always ends. in theory you are right, the quantum physicists are right, the romantic and the religious are right. time without end. in practice we both wear a watch. if i rush at this relationship it’s because i fear for it. i fear you have a door i cannot see and that any minute now the door will open and you’ll be gone. then what? then what as i bang the walls like the inquisition searching for a saint? where will i find the secret passage? for me it’ll always just be these same four walls.’
–jeanette winterson.

but he’s a nice person, and he doesn’t break the things you love. i read that off somewhere and how true things ring sometimes even for you who has no apparent connection to whoever it is who wrote it. i think sometimes i make things up for myself to make myself feel better. i would like to think all this is my own imagination. but people keep talking, and i keep hearing voices, and i don’t know which way to look to see things anymore. all around me there are sidelong looks, as if there’s something they have to hide. all around me, all around. it scares the heck out of me.

some days i don’t know who i’m talking about anymore.

1 i will be seventeen in two weeks
2 when i was younger i made horrible decisions
3 i wrote really bad poetry too
4 i like to sleep
5 i take 4 hour long sleeps.
6 i arrange my books by colour
7 i will kill you if you damage my books
8 i do not watch tv
9 i hate people who have horrible english and type in altcaps.
10 i like most kids i don’t live with
11 i like buying clothes for kids
12 i have no siblings
13 the more comfortable i am with people, the more i insult them
14 i talk better to older people
15 i talk better to guys
16 but if you want intellectual conversations, look for a girl
17 i will never marry someone dumber than me
18 i have been changed by the year 2003
19 i enjoy being by myself
20 i’m awkward with strangers; i can’t insult them
21 i tend to talk too much and too loud
22 i smile too much
23 i can laugh at nothing
24 no one has forced my darkest secret out yet
25 i am very good at lying
26 and even better at manipulation
27 the strange thing is people allow themselves to be manipulated
28 lazy doesn’t even begin to cover it
29 i’ve worn a pinafore all my life
30 i am good at remembering phone numbers and addresses
31 i remember completely useless and random information
32 i spent half my life (and eyesight) reading
33 teachers like me even though i am a complete bum
34 i have alot of unrealised potential
35 i am messy and obsessively neat
36 i talk to myself alot
37 i used to have 20 barbies
38 i haven’t watched a teen flick since i was fourteen
39 i like presents
40 i write in circles
41 i am a weirdo magnet
42 i’m online alot
43 i used to pray that god wouldn’t send me to hell
44 though the things i’ve said and thought and done are probably enough to send me there and back
45 i spend way too much time on this thing
46 i have alot of clothes
47 my favourite colour is probably white
48 i learn chinese from watching chinese tv serials
49 i am a cantonese song junkie
50 i seriously think some girls are completely stupid
51 i need to exercise
52 i can’t cook; the microwave is my saviour
53 half my life is built on words
54 i dream alot about people i know
55 nearly always they have something to do with love or sex
56 i have had alot of dreams twice and i remember them completely
57 i have a sadistic obsession with deafening lizards by turning my sound damn loud
58 i am careless, callous, and less than bothered about how you feel
59 the fact that i can see both sides of something means i don’t do anything at all
60 i’m guilty of alot of things i hate
61 like self-indulgence
62 i don’t have the guts to commit suicide
63 i like to take pictures
64 i am nice to most people, unless you’re my good friend
65 i am quite easy to please
66 and even easier to amuse
67 i used to wish i had an older brother
68 i can’t chew pens
69 i can’t do splits
70 i think too much too often
71 i like food alot
72 i can trip on anything
73 i have tripped on nearly everything
74 i can trip on nothing even
75 i have been said to be influential
76 i hate pretending i don’t know things
77 i hate secondguessing people
78 i can’t stand clingy people
79 or people who think they know who i am
80 i would like to be normal once in awhile
81 i am alot of things i wasn’t expected to be
82 i am more openminded than most people
83 i am more corrupted than you think i am
84 when i am bored, i draw hearts
85 i take completely legible notes
86 i like temperate places
87 i think countrysides are boring; give me the city
88 winter is good, yes
89 i have a very flexible moral standard
90 i like the sound of the guitar
91 i like even better the sight of fingers on guitar
92 people are very nice to me
93 i am quite good at bs-ing
94 and even better at persuasion
95 i am a ‘closet introvert’
96 and a closet romantic
97 i wish i knew what love was
98 i want to hear applause
99 i don’t really like having to choose
100 almost always i don’t mean what you think i’m saying

‘did you ever know you’ve got dreamboat eyes, meg murry?’

today i think we came to an understanding. i think maybe i could see it in your eyes, even for a moment while you were looking at me. i don’t think you knew i saw, or maybe you did, and you just didn’t say– like me. it’s funny how it’s kind of funny, the way you do things. i can’t shake it off, even though i try. it feels weird doing alot of things with you. things that i could do normally with other people, now there’s a bit more tension than what used to be. strange how i can hug keith, or han, but not you. it feels different, weird, somewhat awkward. there’s a little wall we built ourselves but it’s funny how you and i climb over it all the time. i don’t really know how to put it.

there’s alot of feeling, and regret. there is alot of regret. i’m not sure i want anything to move in any direction now, but i think i’ve written about this enough times that everybody knows what i’m saying anyway, even if you don’t, even if you look like you don’t. these days i can’t tell anymore, i don’t even look at you long enough to see whether you understand. it’s getting further, and further, maybe i should just shut up about it once and for all.

today i heard a song on the radio on the way to school. for a moment it brought me back to when i was fourteen, a little girl, really– not really knowing what i was doing. it seems so far away now, so terribly young, so hopelessly ignorant, so painfully immature. all the hurt i inflicted upon myself, when other people didn’t bother, most probably for nothing. so: fourteen and a little girl, it was then i learnt to grow up. songs from long ago and they dig up the hurt, even though slowly it festered into dislike, then slowly into indifference. it’s got something to do with the rain.

it strikes me how i haven’t gone out with anybody on a saturday in a really long time. how i haven’t walked around, or looked at things, things like that. will be glad when saturday comes, because there’s jts and keith is going shopping with me! keith is a lovely person. (: feel quite weird going to ian’s house, actually. his mum is quite scary. haha oh well.

things i wished to say: i got lost.

still looking for that place where dreams don’t end at dawn

reminds me of what i told bernice on her od just now. and yup, that’s why breakfast is such a mystical thing. i always imagine it clouded in haziness, with the morning light cutting through it like knives somehow. it’s so cool in the morning, it feels like a different world altogether. and everyone moves so slowly.

i have just received a ‘official action figure’ from — guess where — the singapore navy! now why they chose to send it to a female, much less me (note obvious lack of enthusiasm for all things military, except maybe strategy but even then) i have no idea, but it is just plain weird. it comes in parts, by the way. which means i have to put it together. which requires effort, which i am not willing to make. so much for new age propaganda (:

i would write for you, you know. i would write so many letters, eventually they would reach the sky. tian1 tang2 hui2 xin4. i watched that movie when i was ten, the first chinese movie i watched in school, and i cried. i cried for the little boy who wrote with such hope, who tied his letters to a kite and flew them away. i cried for his grandfather, who watched as the letters never reached his love. i cried for his grandmother, who never answered back. i would write for so many people, if only i could — if only i would, i would have so much to say. i could cloak you all in words, and dress you up in adjectives, hide your faces with synonyms. i wanted to, and i could. i’m doing it so often these days, what’s one more time? somehow i think i prefer all of you like this, hidden behind words. no names, it was never about the names– underneath words we’re all faceless entities, personalities maybe, but faceless. and when you’re faceless i don’t have to care about you, because i think i care too much about things i’m not supposed to care about. walking a fine line, here we are, try to moonwalk across a tightrope. i know you could, you probably would. but i can’t, i’m not like you. i can’t dance– i’d probably fall. i could fall across a rock, i could fall across walking by nothing, i could fall not walking at all. i could, and i would, i have. i fell once and that was enough, because i fell too hard.

these days you fall away like a distant dream. maybe it’s where you really belonged, somewhere in my imagination. some things i can’t let go of, and maybe they have to disappear completely before i’ll admit they’re really gone. maybe i couldn’t handle you somewhere in real life, perhaps you were better off like this, in here. one night i asked myself if i was just a mood, a pleasant interlude– an interlude to what? for what? what were we preparing for, do you know, would you ever know? yesterday i just overturned the pages of the book we wrote together– frantic heavenward correspondences, cloaked in words. words, words, it’s always words. words were our bullets and words were our shield. the trumpets blare, and he calmly drops his shield. i remember, i remember everything, maybe i shouldn’t but i can’t help it. maybe i’m making dreams out of nothing, maybe i’m making nothing out of dreams. i look at the stars tonight, and know that perhaps they would forsake me either way.

so: je n’en connais pas la fin. (i still don’t know the ending)

i was going to say something. there are alot of weirdass emotions floating up inside me now, and i don’t know which ones to call up first and which ones to throw away. after all every one of them is a part of me and to discard any bit seems a bit like sacrilege, like i’m defiling my own body by throwing something away. yes, i have weird interpretations of what i view myself as. i don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.

i’ve begun reading eileen’s blog again recently and it strikes me how some of the entries remind me so much of myself when i was that age. it’s probably one of those age things, one of those teenage things, more like, one of those phases where you walk through and either come out alive or dead, but okay. how we all used to concern ourselves with masks and acting and how we were sure no one ever saw us the way we were, our half-hearted attempts at putting those thoughts into poetry, chopped off sentences put into lines, things like that. the age of angst, secondary school life puts you through it like no other. what worries me is not that i used to be like that — i suspect we’ve all gone through it at some point in time — it’s more that i wonder if i ever came out of it. i wonder too if i am not past the age of angst. i see myself in it all the time. this, in itself, is a somewhat angsty post. i’ve begun treating this place like some kind of emotional dumping ground, and i really can’t be bothered to put anything happy in it nowadays because i’d rather like to keep that happiness for myself, there seems to be so little of it these days. it seems like there’s happiness when we’re in class and we’re laughing, in our own world, where people are looking in wistfully and we go on, oblivious. i’m not blind, you know. i’m in there but i see these things, the only thing is, why aren’t i going out to help, i don’t know. my eyes are following you when you slip quietly out of class, when you think no one notices. i know when you don’t want to sit alone, when you need a hug. all these different yous, but i know. i know when you look at me, when you think i don’t know, when you don’t know i know. i know what you’re thinking. all these things, it builds up. sooner or later we will all explode.

and i’m holding myself off it. i was looking through my old laserdiscs that day and i unearthed casper the friendly ghost, i loved that movie, maybe i still do. i always thought the boy playing human casper was cute. except now he’s 20 years old, 8 years on, and totally different. how we all change. anyway i can’t leave yet, even if i wanted to; too much unfinished business, things i’d regret not doing if i didn’t do them now, if ever at all. there are lots of unresolved things floating around, and sooner or later one of them is going to drop on my head. i’m refusing to think about alot of things. ignoring alot of messages, ignoring alot of people, i’m refusing to think about the fact that in less than two weeks my best friend will be in another continent, i’m refusing i’m refusing i’m refusing.

so, a year has passed without incidence. sometimes i measure things too precisely, and then i am crestfallen when no one else does the same. slowly slowly we mark our time. i often have visions of myself writing long letters to people i love that i will never send. visions, reality, i don’t know. those letters are lying in my drawer right now. someday, maybe, i’ll give them to you. when you’ve forgotten me. do you know (i never knew) a person could fade so much faster the more you saw of him? i don’t know what to think anymore, really.

i’ve discovered that dreams are always silent, there are no voices echoing in your head, just this surreal sort of surrounding where everything that has to be said somehow imprints itself onto your brain. telepathy, sort of. two days ago i had a dream about two people. it was disturbing because i knew both of them. it was terrible because i had this sense that i was lying, i was cheating, and i wasn’t sure who was being lied to and cheated to more, them or myself.

nothing was ever said, but some things you can feel.

what an intersting (lol neek) conversation! haha.

the sky is falling down! says:
i think everyone gets chew happy presents lol

he doesn’t break the things you love says:

the sky is falling down! says:
what did i get once? “unpleasant ways to die.”

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
smiley extraordinaire =p

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
oh haha

the sky is falling down! says:

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
that’s more interesting than
he doesn’t break the things you love says:

the sky is falling down! says:
yeah, agreed
the sky is falling down! says:

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
i think i know what to get you =p
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
he doesn’t break the things you love says:

the sky is falling down! says:
but they dont have a little miss sadist.
the sky is falling down! says:

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
thats cos
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
you dont teach children sadistic things!!!

the sky is falling down! says:
oh yeah.
the sky is falling down! says:
but children somehow learn sadistic things anyway
the sky is falling down! says:
the sky is falling down! says:
like torturing other children

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
its from fairytales
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
i swear
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
fairytales are evil

the sky is falling down! says:
yeah they are
the sky is falling down! says:
its just that disney made them cute

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
hm but its like they teach you that its ok to be mean to sth if its bad
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
i wonder if thats actually the way it should be

the sky is falling down! says:
well in fairytales, everything is really black and white
the sky is falling down! says:
beautiful = good
the sky is falling down! says:
ugly = bad and evil
the sky is falling down! says:
quite funny eh?

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
well in the real world beauty is really a tool i guess

the sky is falling down! says:
yup tts true

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
maybe they’re evil cos they’re beautiful =p

the sky is falling down! says:
read somewhere tt fat, highly educated women are paid less than slim, highly educated women.

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
you know its like, i can get away with this kind of thing
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
i don’t think you even have to be highly educated lol o_O

the sky is falling down! says:
no, for low educated jobs it doesnt matter cos its like cleaners and other menial stuff

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
he doesn’t break the things you love says:

the sky is falling down! says:
but i guess it depends on what you define beauty as

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
i know there was some funny rule in malaysia
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
or a ‘suggestion’

the sky is falling down! says:

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
like ugly women should just stay at home cos you’re unlikely to find a job anyway

the sky is falling down! says:
the sky is falling down! says:

the sky is falling down! says:
that is sad.
the sky is falling down! says:
whereas ugly men still have high status jobs/
the sky is falling down! says:
=the sky is falling down! says:
-shakes fist at patriachal society-

he doesn’t break the things you love says:

the sky is falling down! says:
hm. or maaybe, ugly women dont get hired cos its the men who’re in the impt positions in the first place and they dont like ugly women.

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
maybe ugly men think they’d get uglier if they put ugly women in the jobs =p

the sky is falling down! says:
all men look at beautiful women even if they dont have a chance =p
the sky is falling down! says:

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
that is tru e=p

the sky is falling down! says:
oh well
the sky is falling down! says:
quite sad

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
dont you think its funny that when an ugly person and a pretty person get married
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
their kid almost always turns out uglier than prettier
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
is ugliness some kind of dominant characteristic or sth …

the sky is falling down! says:
doesnt make sense though
the sky is falling down! says:
prettiness is sposed to be dominant
the sky is falling down! says:
isnt it

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
it is?
the sky is falling down! says:
cos its the “better” gene

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
maybe its better cos we think its better

the sky is falling down! says:

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
how weirdd.

the sky is falling down! says:
but the pt of being good looking is so that your genes will preservere
the sky is falling down! says:
so if ur ugly u lose out
the sky is falling down! says:
the sky is falling down! says:

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
maybe it’s a conspiracy =p

the sky is falling down! says:

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
dyou think its possible that every generation gets uglier and uglier

the sky is falling down! says:
easier to just say its gods will isnt it =p

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
so like
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
the definition of ‘pretty’ is like
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
wider and wider
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
so more people are considered pretty =p

he sky is falling down! says:
hmm. i dunno
the sky is falling down! says:
but modern definition of beauty.. or well the standard
the sky is falling down! says:
is pretty crap anw

he doesn’t break the things you love says:

the sky is falling down! says:
.. its like half starved waifs
the sky is falling down! says:
= beautiful

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
maybe they just like novelty
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
now that everyone’s getting so much to eat, you know, let’s worship people who don’t eat for a change

the sky is falling down! says:
the sky is falling down! says:
i dunno
the sky is falling down! says:
sometimes eating seems like such a gross thing
the sky is falling down! says:
the sky is falling down! says:
look two windows

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
what windows!
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
are you talking about the o_O
he doesn’t break the things you love says:

the sky is falling down! says:

he doesn’t break the things you love says:

the sky is falling down! says:
look, two windows.
the sky is falling down! says:
the sky is falling down! says:
the sky is falling down! says:

he doesn’t break the things you love says:
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
this is getting amusing
he doesn’t break the things you love says:
even though i dunno wtf is going on O_O

the sky is falling down! says:
hai okae nvm?! o_O
the sky is falling down! says:
mmm so BOREDDDdddddddddd