345: smiling flash, talking trash, under your breath

I am super annoyed. In fact, I am so annoyed it’s not even funny. I am trying to plan my holidays for March, but all it turns up is that everywhere I want to go, nobody is free, or they have all been there before. And when I think about the reason as to this sad and very unfortunate state of affairs, the only answer that pops up is a very obvious one. Because I keep waiting for people, who say they don’t mind — scratch that, want — to go again with me, and then shit happens, everything gets fucked up, including all my bloody plans — and my life, goddamnit — and now I am stuck in a rut. Of course I know it’s unfair to blame everything on one cause, and I was stupid enough to put all my eggs in one basket, but obviously I thought that if you can’t trust the person closest to you, you can’t bloody trust anyone. As it turns out, I am painfully right. These things have a way of proving themselves to you. Am I happy? No. Am I bitter? Fuck yes. Am I jealous? Possibly so. I am tired of pretending like all this does not matter to me, because it does, and I am not even pissed off so much as I am jealous and annoyed at myself for being an irrational jealous human being. And if someone says the four words 把握青春 to me ever again, I will fucking kill them. I hate how there are shadows still hanging over my head. Most of all I hate how people get to be happy and I don’t. I hate how I feel like I will never be happy as long as they are, because that makes me evil, and I don’t like being evil, because I know — I know — that the happiness I deserve is there, even if I don’t see it now, so I am just being a stupid angry piece of nonsense. And I hate how as much as I don’t like being evil, I can’t bring myself to be all noble about it, because that nonsense only belongs in movies, and I’ve had enough of people thinking their life belongs in a fairy tale TVB drama serial. Seriously, what the fuck man. I am an existential mess. 

(Also, X — X, of all people — is teaching me ways to get over someone. I wish I had enough energy to laugh at how ridiculous my life has become.)


276: when she’s sad, she comes to me

I thought about it and I thought it would be better if I left it like that. Hours later I’m still wondering why I didn’t pick up the phone. Strange? Maybe yes, maybe no. I keep having to pretend I’m not there or that I forgot about it, or that I completely missed it. It’s selfish to start thinking about how I shouldn’t have to be dealing with this right now. 

Endless phone calls? How old are you, six?

I don’t even understand why there is all this bitterness on my part. This doesn’t even have anything to do with me. 

I, we. There’s no doubt about it.

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268: seriously

Whoever typed “moots lawr grade” to get to my blog, you should be ashamed of yourself. If you want to know so badly, you should just ask your friends, instead of searching online to see if they blogged about it. 

240: 天空海阔 你与我 可会变

It’s 6am — what do we do? 

Today I met — no, I bumped into — no, I saw — the ex to end all ex-es, in the midst of my alcohol-induced high, in Phuture. The very first. But not the very last, in the string of secondary school mistakes (which amounted to two, including this one. There was another, which was also… what we could call a mistake, but for different reasons). And that was a really big mistake. I remember feeling stunned, for a long while, just before a PE lesson when Charlene told me some very bad news. One is aware that I would not be so honest if not for the alcohol now running through my system, but we must take these moments of spontaneity as they come. I didn’t feel much, because I hadn’t been thinking about him in years, but seeing my friend go up to him and say hi reminded me just how long we hadn’t talked. And I thought that things, after so long, would have changed (he even refused to say hello to me when we were in the same school, years after the debacle, totally unaware that all of it was his doing, but that’s another story), but clearly they haven’t. It’s not that it’s a bad thing; I just hadn’t thought of it in years, and suddenly all these intellectual thoughts come sprouting out of my brain, in the midst of an alcoholic stupor.  

Now I am carrying out an (very enjoyable) intellectual conversation with Daming, which I haven’t had in ages. While half-drunk and at 6am in the morning, and listening to Beyond on repeat, which in my opinion is the greatest Cantonese band that ever lived. Even though my boyfriend is currently in Genting gambling his life savings away with the Catholic Boyfriends’ Association, I can honestly say that I’ve never felt this breathless and carefree in a long time. 


226: i need some intelligentactile 101

When I first thought about the holidays coming I thought of all sorts of things to do. But it never fails to surprise me how much I’ve missed and failed to take in while I was holed up in school.

Today I went out alone again. I wasn’t intending to, since I was supposed to meet someone, but my phone (un?)fortuituously went dead and I decided to spend my Saturday alone after lunch. Sometimes I feel sad that he’s not here, but most of the time I quite enjoy it. It reminds me of what I used to do when I was single, and had all the time in the world to myself, without thinking about rushing off to meet the bf whenever. It’s not a bad thing — being attached — alot of the time I wanted to run away and go meet him, but there’s something. About solitude.

I’ve always liked big cities. My cousin-in-law asked me which city in Europe was my favourite, and not having been to many, I said London. I wasn’t lying, since I was prepared to spend 3 years there anyway. And I said, yes, the bigger and more crowded, the better. (Only after I said it did I realise the contradiction, because I’d just professed my hatred of Zoukout merely 10 minutes earlier because it was too crowded and squeezy — and drunk) My cousin said bodies pressing against each other are not her thing, and I thought back to the MTR in Hong Kong during peak hour.

I remembered I hated it, but I was glad to finally have a chance to push someone without getting my head bitten off, since no one would know who it was anyway. There was that freedom, that anonymity, to do things you ordinarily would never get away with, to lose yourself in a big city. Of course I’m talking about more than just pushing random commuters around in a train. But you understand.

So — I read No Reservations in Kino today, after buying a pair of shoes and reading half a Christmas story (like Good Omens, only worse, so I stopped) in Borders. And yet another trashy romance novel. In what seems to be the greatest irony ever, I read the first romance (few days ago) in the corner of the Parenting section, which looked like a fairly promising place to read, but turned out to be full of random people. Who are younger than I am and not supposed to be old enough to need advice on parenting. (No comment.) Then I read the second one in the Children’s section in Kino — after No Reservations — on a bench, where I happened to find a seat, although I had to share it with an overly excited expecting couple who were cooing over baby names from a book.

Parenting and Children. Are my maternal instincts subconsciously taking over?

The woman was cooing, anyway, while her husband continually objected to every single name she picked out till she got fed up. Maybe it was the bad pronunciation. Imagine if the Registrar of Births got your name wrong because your mother couldn’t pronounce your name. Worse still, she’d be able to spell it correctly. And the Registrar will try valiantly not to laugh.


“Eee like cheese like that.


“Dowan! Sounds like Bridge.

“I know I know! Clo!

“You mean like Chloe?

“Yeah! Clo!

“No dear, it’s Chloe.”

At this point I felt a family disaster crawl slowly but surely towards the backs of the unsuspecting couple. Luckily they left, so I could stop eavesdropping on other people and concentrate on my own book. But really. Clo?

Well. There were other things I noticed, like the inordinate amount of people snapping pictures with the Takashimaya Christmas tree. And a girl I saw walking down Wisma wearing a sports top and shorts with a Deuter backpack and really high wedges. Dressy wedges. Really high dressy wedges with jingly-jangly things hanging off the straps. Wish I’d taken a picture.

City life. Great innit?

222: 不敢在午夜问路 怕触动了伤心的魂

okay. so i lost an ebay bid for a really nice dress by a pound. never mind. there will always be more things to buy. :(

was at starbucks earlier this morning to have breakfast, before my last burst of energy for company law tomorrow. you know – i wanted to say something – but there is no better, more beautiful way to say it than like it is. because that’s how it is. so – i saw a caucasian family walk in, except the mother was distinctly not caucasian. ordinarily that wouldn’t be unusual, except that she looked really young, the kids were like ten, and were nowhere eurasian. and then i thought, do they think this person is daddy’s friend from overseas, or do they really think of this person as mummy? and what would ‘daddy’s friend’ be doing with them bright and early at 7.30am (yah don’t ask) on a sunday morning (don’t ask again)?

this is where my bf steps in and gives me the very loaded, “i see.” – and he does see – but i don’t, most of the time. ordinarily, who cares? both my cousins married caucasians but they’re not SPGs (or whatever their modern equivalent is). but that thought – that thought about this girl and the kids was so weird.

anyway, the more i think about it, there is less than 48 hours to the end of the exams. for better or for worse, it’s going to be @%(&*$(%#-ing OVER!

217: 你的爱还在不在?

you know, it is always amazing how things pass by really fast – in just two hours, CLT was over, and i could get on with my life.

which now consists of property and company law. not terribly exciting, to be sure, but one step closer to the finish line. and more and more, i find myself inching closer to the second half of the class.

okay. that’s enough depressing talk, because nobody likes it when people whine about studies and how they are supposed to be brilliant but their grades are not reflecting it. so i will talk about how i love 伍佰.

yesterday while we were in school, i concluded that we should set up a co-op exchanging chinese songs – from the past. songs you remember singing from your primary school days, when you were small and young and watched on channel 8, formerly known as SBC (and the no transmission sign on premier 12 was rainbow-coloured). like 被动 (LIVE), 红蜻蜓 (by 小虎队 — so long ago), 你知道我在等你吗?and the one and only famous song that 黎明 has: 今夜你会不会来?


and so after that i went on a downloading spree, and now i have lots of songs to tide me through those long and lonely nights in the study room. and if 伍佰 ever came for a concert, i would so go and watch. AHHH!

i observed a disturbing trend in all this, which i told mok last night, which was that all of us exchanging songs somehow appeared to be from hwachong. HAHA! (:

today is sunday – the jacob ballas garden is full, yet again. people with big cars should not have the licence to any how park. they are contractual licensees! they can be chased out at any time! wah lao! slap them. and then they park and block the entrance to the car park some more, with their huge black hulking mercedes SUV.

you think just because you are rich means you can any how park is it?! KNN! (*#%&&#%!!! zzz.


212: being an anti-social freak

yes, exams are coming.

i am stressed, extra irritable, and not pleasant to be around.

these are times when i remember why i like to study alone, because nobody will ask me stupid questions every 2 minutes. i hate people who ask stupid questions. and are totally unaware they are asking stupid questions and therefore feel entitled to ask stupid questions. why can’t you just find out the answer yourself?! aohidhfgfgkdfgk.

so go away.

196: things to note

if you are going to fall asleep on the wheel, you should not have driven at all.

also, if you are not in it, means you are not in it.
and your face will still look the same even after plastic surgery, i.e. fugly.

cheers to all who got high and wasted tonight though, it was one of the best nights out ever, barring a few things. but the music was smashing. who else mixes bon jovi with peter, bjorn and john? only poptart. aww yeah (:

193: i know why the caged bird sings

there are times when you believe some time together, and other times away, will help matters. while others live in their own dreamland, here another suffers. being caged in like a bird, dragged across the floor like a prisoner. images that keep flashing in your head, things that make you cry – only to haunt you later, in the worst places, in front of the person you cannot decide if you hate most. there may be worse things than scrambling to get into a room you are locked out of, only to find the door slam in your face. such lines are drawn everyday, walls built and torn down, some permanent. if we spell forever on our hearts today, who is to say it will not change tomorrow? and so we take one day as it is, biding our time, feeling alternately sorry and thankful, praying for the day separation never happens; that these walls, not having to be built, will never have to be torn down.

as trite as it sounds, some things will never change.


being friends is like saying i will be there for you whenever you need me. that i will always look out for you, and tell you the truth when it needs to be known. what it does not mean is an unequivocal intention to tell you everything, or nothing, or things you want or need to know. we live solely at one another’s discretion, and whatever we know about our lives is defined by the truths and half-truths that people tell us. these things, they are like lines. they are like balls of thread that bind us together in a huge web, that make us unable to go further or backward, trapped as we are by somebody else’s manipulations. our own manipulations. the way we manipulate others, tying our lies slowly but surely around their necks and ankles, pinning them there, strangling them, till they cannot move.

sometimes we change our minds. sometimes we try to untie those knots. those who see the light about the other people bind the truths they know to other people’s hearts. this is worse, knowing they cannot move, here or there, or anywhere. sometimes we put our hopes up only to find someone has taken them down. ripped them off the wall, and thrown them into the bin, or maybe burnt, or buried. we feel stifled, as if we have been choked. as if a ball of string, another lie, the unkindest of them all, has come, from the back. we feel these things. we will never know for sure. knowing too much about other people — it is never a good thing.

186: 三年的感情 一封信就要收回

today was a good day.

we are often too caught up, too absorbed, too too busy to just sit down and have a chat. so what better way to do it than pon a useless lecture and relive a holiday mood? i like talking to people. thank you for trusting me. (:

only one useful thought while watching hairspray. it suddenly seemed poignant to me in the middle of the movie while queen latifah was off belting out some song pretending to be emo and crying that the camera angle swept across the marching crowd and in it all i noticed the wizened face of an elderly black man holding a ‘integration not segregation’ sign. which could have been real, and him there to hold it. i wondered as he walked if it brought back any memories for him, marching as he would have when he was younger, 45 years ago. this moment in the film – it changed it from being just another happy teenybopper musical into something much more meaningful for me.

funny how things change, and thankfully not always for the worse.


some people are in deep shit, and they do not realise it. sometimes people really need to think about things properly before they do them, and land themselves into a whole pile of muck without knowing. and preferably not with the anatomical protrusion on their body.

it really annoys me that people really don’t know that they are messing up their life.



talking to you brings back memories. it’s sad to realise that i remember the After more than the Before.

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177: the screaming tires, the busting glass

i’ll never forget the sound that night

i am so sad. and really still quite traumatised. and i am really never, ever, ever (x10) driving into town again. oh my god.

somehow i cannot even bring myself to blame the taxi driver who totally busted my car from behind because every time i think about how i am going to claim his ass off his insurance, i think about how he has to spend a few thousand repairing his own vehicle and he probably has a family to feed. and i don’t, etc.

sigh. i feel so horrible about all this.

170: you see her confidence is tragic but her intuition magic

my mother is lonely.

but what really really seriously irritates the shit out of me is the way people think they can walk in and out of my room every 5 minutes to interrupt me (admittedly, i am not doing anything productive) with something completely and totally trivial. one time is it about the stupid share prices. another time is about how many people there are on the dean’s list because i told her there were 15 off the top of my head and there were actually 23 (yes she went to count. wtf?). another time it is about our house and how much we should sell it for (something we have discussed already, about 48593486 million times).

i really don’t mind if she sits down and talks about it all at once. but i hate it when people constantly try to get my attention by randomly coming up with 2 lines of information and then walking out and walking back in again 2 minutes later to tell me something else.

i wish my mother WORKED. had a full-time job. found something to occupy her time so that she doesn’t sit around in front of the computer monitoring shares all day. i wish she socialised more. i want the mother i used to have, strong and beautiful and confident, not the lonely soul that clings to her child.

167: she only drinks coffee at midnight when the moment is not right

hello all –

today i took a jump and when i went for a haircut today i dyed my hair violet. this is to say that now 90% of my head is purplish-red, even though that isn’t exactly the colour you expect from hearing “violet”. i wanted dark purple at first, but was informed that since my natural hair colour is the blackest nonsense you can ever find on the face of this planet (i swear, it even looks black when you hold it up to the sun) anything dark and masquerading as subtle would be rendered invisible.

so now it’s slightly brighter, and is a cross between dark purple and dark red. but you still can’t really see it unless you look carefully and/or see me in sunlight/white light, but that’s the way i like my things to be.

in addition, the only reason why i am actually up at 6am in the morning is because i woke up at 5 due to a headache that refused to go away. so other than the nice hair, i actually really feel like shit. :(

ETA: one thing that really irritates me is why do some irritating people manage to be rich at the same time!!! ya, i am jealous. i am so going to buy myself a totally frivolous and beautiful bag the moment i graduate for the heck of it. i have had enough of stupid people buying bags i have been lusting for (5!!!) in one hongkong trip!!!!!

154: 不甘心不放手

sometimes i see the things that are happening around me to other people and i feel inexplicably sad. not because these things will never happen to me, or that i will never face the same kind of problem, but that there seems to be an entire level of emotion that i can never relate to. things like dating someone nearly twice my age confound me, because i wouldn’t do it myself, but i can’t bring myself to say anything against it, because i’m always pro-choice. in the end, your life is really about how you want it to be, and parents have to outgrow this thing about treating you as if you’re their precious child. it was probably kox who said it best when he said, i’d ask my mother the same question – what would you do if your father didn’t like daddy? nevertheless, i cannot understand it, though i feel some emptiness on the behalf those who do.

today was a riotous mess, and criminal law wasn’t too bad – someday we’ll get out of our superhero-complex and stop believing we can do everything in a day – a huge lunch, KTV, movie, shopping, supper, club. but what i liked most, was at the end of the day, sitting around chatting and talking nonsense without work hanging over our heads, talking about things that amuse us the most, and then going to borders and curling up with a book (non-law) till closing, then lounging on a chair al fresco at starbucks doing the most energy-less thing of all, people-watching, with an iced caramel macchiato. i love these moments, the quiet moments, the ones at night. even in the city, where everyone is still awake, there is always a spot somewhere where you can sit down and feel like you can go to sleep.