This post doesn't need a title

Current mood: Comfortably numb
Listening to: Billy Joel - Vienna

4.27pm right now. Just woke up about an hour ago after receiving Shiau Wen's text message. My nose is running like a leaky faucet. It's a killer. So it's going to be really nice if the unseen powers from above could help me make sense right now because everything seems to be a huge mass of blurness at the mo.

Anyways, went out with a friend today for National Treasure 2. The movie was pretty good actually. But it wasn't the movie which got me thinking till now. It was actually this friend.

It was the first time meeting up so I kind of had a rough image of what to expect based on the past chatting sessions and all that. So it turned out to be quite a surprise that he was a lot quieter than i expected. Ironic to say that it was the littlest things that he said that really made me think. It was scary at the same time coz it was like a Hall of Mirrors kind of situation; every angles you turn you see yourself, but can't tell the difference between the reflections staring back at you from the way out, and the only way to get out of there was either to feel your way through with trial and errors or simply by looking hard till you can tell which is which. I seriously felt that way. And no it wasn't funny. Not even the slightest bit.

It brought me back for a reality check after such a long time. It ignited feelings and emotions which I had long detached myself from and conveniently avoided for the past year.

Things were so much clearer back then. I knew exactly what I wanted and how to work my way through it. These days aren't so similiar anymore. I used to bring out the alter ego in me whenever I was faced with situations which I did't find comfortable in. It was like an easy way out as it helped me not take that certain uneasy feeling personally. Whatever happens there stays there.

Today he made me realize that I've used this escapade one too many times that it's beginning to cover up my true self. Like a leech sucking bit by bit till it's completly dried out and all is left would be the ugly scars of your mistakes. It was like Dr. Jekyll being stuck as Mr. Hyde, like a potion gone wrong. I do admit that it was like an alarming wake up call in the head. These days I'm hardly myself anymore. It reminded me of that session we had in Starbucks the night before. Is my action of doing so reflecting my overly self-protective manner and overtly need to please?

I remember back then when people used to think that i was a stuck-up prick who thought highly of myself and label them as the "below my standard" just because I don't talk much. I never took that personally. Not because it was true. But i found it a waste of time to explain myself to every tom, dick and harry. It didn't bother me much back then.

Then when I started getting worst comments after I started out college. It then gave me this idea of switching to and fro from myself to my alter ego. It made things so much easier to bear. Everyone was happy and I could still keep "myself" away and not a give a fart. It was like a playing-along-with-your-stupidity-just-to-shut-you-up kind of situation. And I guess I did lose myself somewhere down that road.

So talking to this dude today actually made me miss that feeling of simply just being myself. Funny how life works. The most random people can come around out of the blue and say something so casual and it could affect someone so greatly. This life really never ceases to amaze me.

Koffee with Karen

I'm beginning to dread the days as it draws closer. It is something which is supposed to be bringing everyone closer, but it's obvious how that had never happened before. I'm saying this based on the past. Never happens. Instead, everything that is predicted never fails to take place.

I can't type in proper. Maybe it's the music that's blasting into both my ears that's unable-ing me to give a coherent sentence. Still I can't bring myself to remove the earphones. Taking them off would mean hearing what's on tv instead. I'm not in the mood for that.

Most of last night was spent at the balcony. The light from the tv was illuminating the living room, giving it this eerily comforting glow. Just then my eyes caught sight of the messily stacked books on the wooden coffee table. It reminded me of those days where we would go together to warehouse sales and score rows after rows of cheaply priced books. You hated it when I complained after the first few minutes of dusty paperbacks, but then give me that sympathetic and yet slightly amused look when you see my nose turning beet-red from all that sneezing. That still didn't stop me from rummaging through all those boxes of Sweet Valley Senior Year to complete my collection. What can I say? I was only 15 back then so it was hardly juvenille. =/

I've wondered off so deep into the nostalgic days that I couldn't remember what was I supposed to write. Another day then.

Hush, my little child

Today i woke up from a dream where I was with Clint Eastwood. Not his wife. He already had one. The kind of stage wives you see from tinseltown. I was like his daughter/secret lover kinda person. Don't ask me how. It was a dream and you feel like you're invinsible in them. Most of the time.

Every evening after he was done with his shooting, he drives me up to this reservoir; kinda like the one in that 70's show, and he will teach me philosophical stuff while we cuddle around. There always was buffalo soldier playing faintly in the background. It was comforting to be held close near his chest while I queitly counted the beats of his heart; it was like the bass of a good song. The kind where albeit the fact that it's just a monotonous, standard beat, but you secretly replace it with a music rhythm of a familiar song in your own head and smile to your own amusement.

He was telling me about how he used to get pushed around in the set of futurama where he was actually zoid bobblehead, and of how he had passed those phases and is now his own man.

This was one of those dreams where I really didn't want to wake up and forced myself to fall asleep again, hoping hard that I could continue where I left off. I could not do it.

Till now as I'm mindlessly tapping my untrimmed-fingernailed fingers on the keyboard, I can't erase his signature look from my head.

What's the point of this story you ask? I'm not sure myself either. I just wanted to preserve that dream in writing I guess.

I left my windows open last night; curtains drawn and all. Right now desaria seems like a really peaceful escape. With the basketball court being slightly stained from last nights rain. I can see a couple of bostwanians walking at the perimetre of the court; with that trademark walk-with-the-slight-limp-of-yo-ing of theirs.

Sometimes I wish I could just take a second of my life to just sit back and just live in the moment; moments where everyday scenes of these take place and just enjoy it for what it is. Right now, the price to enjoy lifes little pleasures just don't come cheap no more.

How about dinner tonight?

There are some things which you think you're missing and there are things which you never knew you were missing until it just strikes in at the most unexpected of times; something old and familiar, like an old blanket which used to warm you up on cold august nights when the monsoon rain is pouring outside the window.

It was just like any other Saturday 3am mornings; where I would be washing my face and getting ready for bed after the usual movie marathon. Just as I was there drying my freshly washed face on a towel, I caught a glimpse of her toothbrush. Suddenly there was this immense feeling of lost times. It reminded me of those days where I used to sleep in the bedroom instead of falling asleep on the brown curdorouy three-seater sofa with spongebob's signature laugh at the background. It was the mornings being waken up by the buzz-whirring of her electric toothbrush. Where she would allow me to sleep for another half an hour till she's done with the bathroom; then if I still cover my head with the abstract-looking comforter, she'll shake her wet comb near my face and tells me that he's on his way over to pick us up for breakfast. Those were the days which haven't happened much anymore, or not at all. Those are the days which we all have conviniently tucked to the back of our heads, and heart.

These days, it's mostly about being both emotionally and physically exhausted. So much so that not even the memories of those happy moments could repair; like the time you used to pull me in the little red wagon at the fruit orchard in canada, where I was wearing that sunflower print dress. Perhaps the damage done had been so severe that both parties are at the edge of breaking down, or worse, just letting things happen and not wanting to invest anymore feelings into it.

How could a relationship of more than two decades slowly wither and be at the brink of dying just like that? Did those memories mean nothing at all? Is it really better for both parties to just let go and go back to their own paths? Is this where the ride stops? What was going on in your mind when we were all having dinner?

Would you try to save it or would you just let it be? I want to know what do you think.

Tie up those shoelaces and keep walking.

Life is like a good movie; where the plots are always filled with unexpected twists and turns. Sometimes they turn out fine, at times it stretches you to the point of breaking down. I experienced that yesterday.

I haven't experienced that kind of rage for such a long time already. It scared me. Yes, sometimes I do scare myself as well. I consider myself quite a sensible and tolerant person, but i guess it was the thought of unfinished business which kept me awake at night. Shit happens, but we move on.

Called dad after i threw my phone away after the heated argument. Never have I felt so much of both dissapointment and anger at the same time. As usual, there wasn't much advice or consoling words; just lots of sensible talk. That's dad.

He's not the type to feed you with soft spoken words. But that's good in a way. He's the one who's always there to tell me to hold my head up high no matter what happens. Never to show my weakness to the enemies. Let them guess what's your next move. Never be predictable. Because the moment you let it show, that's when you've lost the battle.

It isn't about who wins. It's about protecting yourself. Whichever road it is that you've chosen, never look back. Just stick to it. You always have to stay strong to the saying, "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me". It's not easy and it never will be; it's all just a matter of practise and getting yourself used to it till it can never hurt you anymore.

"...finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin in serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense..." -emerson-

Unsent Letter

Long have I contemplated whether or not to write this. Since I found it almost impossible to do this face to face, perhaps it would be best to just leave this to typing.

Things have indeed been strange between us. You might've realized it, but I understand if you didn't. I don't know. Being your friend has taught me to not expect much from you for it always leads to dissapointment and despair.

I'm not the type who is good at explaining myself, even more so when I don't find that it would have much affect. Especially on a person like you. Everything seems to have the need of a medium now. It's just impossible to make myself talk to you anymore. I don't find it necessary to have a middle man actually, but somehow the one who cared just didn't find it comfortable with how things are going on and so was indirectly put in this situation.

I used to think that you've changed much, but after much thought, realized that perhaps I was wrong. Maybe this IS the real you. Not giving much thought about things that you find unimportant. So I decided that perhaps all these while I was looking for something that never actually existed. I was probably too caught up in my own world that I just didn't see this coming, when in fact it had already been there from the very beginning.

There had been so much self-inflicted pain and dissapointment that I finally decided that enough is enough. I would understand if you put me off as being selfish and all that. Fact is that I've managed to slowly get over the worrying of you thinking of me as that. It doesn't really matter much to me anymore at this point.

Perhaps we'll look back at this when we're 85 and laugh about how silly this was. But for some reason, I'm much more comfortable being where we are now. Hardly acknowledging you is much easier than to be your friend. For when we're close, I just can't help not expecting you to act like a friend; or at least how I think a friend should behave. Being thoughtful and considerate at times was all I asked for. Maybe even that was asking for too much.

I think that's all I have to say. I expected this to be longer, but when I started typing away, I was somehow lost for words. It seems that there's nothing more to be said. You can say that I lost in this battle, for being the first to back out; or rephrase it whichever way, if it makes you feel better about yourself.

Take care.

Type and Run

Was just thinking about going for a drink the other day but ended up staying at home talking to sakai. That's the new nickname of housemate after playing M.I.A. for the past two weeks, and when he came back on sunday.. total sakai. Apparently he's finally found the love of his life in Cheras aka Clement's indo maid.

We were just minding our own business when suddenly he kept going on this "Yati" mantra. -___- damn annoying.

Anyways, these past two months had been pretty mind boggling. Learned so much about life and myself in such a short period of time. This life never ceases to amaze me.

Retardo Paradiso

Have started the new semester for about 3 weeks already and everything seems to be going on pretty well. I'm learning to be more optimistic about everything that people around me are finding me so annoying and you have no idea how much I appreciate their patience with my.. uhmm.. preppiness? Okay. Perhaps it's not that scary, but still...

Anyways, taking up both journalism and ftv as majors are lets say... pretty enticing? I don't know. My vocab is so bad now that I deserve to be shot by Kipling himself.

Pretty hectic schedule for this sem since work has to be submitted on time and the datelines are all so close to each other.

For some reason I have the feeling that I'm getting more boring when it comes to words this time. Or perhaps I've always been this way that this is just the lowest moment of this whole boring swindrelome. Is that even a word? I don't know anymore.



Blah. Kinda having the whole blocked brains thing going on. So here's some pics to do justice (or not) to wrap up the stuff that we (housemates and moi) had done during the most boring and retarded of times.

Beautiful Lies

Sometimes in life, you think you're going on just fine; walking on the path and off at times, but still you know that everything will go just fine. Not worrying too much and not allowing things to get in your way.

But sometimes if you were to sit down and think about it, is it really working? Maybe for a month or two, but are you just avoiding it or is it really gone?

Every once in a while, I breakdown for a while but then I'll pick myself up and carry on. Telling myself that whatever that does not kill me only makes me stronger. Recently I've been wondering to myself how long will I be able to withstand this?

This coming semester is pretty good; new place, new room to not allow myself to fall into another dwindlum of depression, and it seemed to be working on just fine. But sometimes I feel that I'm speaking too soon, because just when you least expect it then that's when it'll come.

I really have no idea how did I cope up with it. At times when I look back, it feels like all I've done is move away from whatever that will bring myself down. It works for a while. But for how long?

After a while, you feel as if you're just lying to yourself. Telling yourself a lie so that you won't get hurt. At least not so badly. But when you look back, you'll realize that it's all still there. So what do you do? You can't keep running away. Neither can you not look back because these are the things that makes us human.

If only my heart was made of steel.

Of The Pretenders and Cover Versions.

Was going through a collection of classic rock when I came across The Pretenders. Memories of those days where I used to idolize people like Chrissy Hynde came flooding back. She was like the epitome of a female rocker; not the exhibitionist type but you know that she's a rocker at heart.

There was one song that shows that even classic rock are capable of coming up with one of the most romantic love songs which makes you go "awww..." and have those heart wrenching moments like what you get after watching Allie and Noah in The Notebook. I'll Stand by You was one of those songs that you can't deny that immense feeling of despair and heart-ache when you listen to it. The best part is that you don't have to psychoanalyse the lyrics to get it.

It's sad to know that they just don't make songs like they used to anymore. All this bubblegum pop and songs of fake angst are just plain annoying. It gets pretty frustrating after a while when you get thrown into this heap of thrash one too many times. Case in point? An all-girl group, Girls Aloud, who did a cover version of this song and what do you end up with? A bunch of squeeky, rodent-like mannequins who look like they are more interested in selling their looks and bodies than to deliver the message of the song. I don't have anything against them, but can't they just stick to whatever songs they're into and lay off the classics? Dammit! Just thinking about their video is seriously pissing me off! I mean, you're laughing around with your tight-knit of friends and playing with each others hair while singing about how you'll stand by your partner no matter what. WTF?!! Maybe I'm being a tad too sensitive, but whatever. It still looks like an effing disgrace to the original version.

What happened to those days where music used to be an expressive outlet of something real? You might argue that these days, songs like that don't pay the bills no more. Mind you that I'm very much aware of that as well, that's why it's a sad case. It kind of puts music lovers into a temporary despair mode of some kind.

I'm actually still listening to that song while typing, and yeah it's actually putting me into a very depressed mood. Dammit!

It's all good while it lasted

Am I being difficult?

I don't know really. Perhaps I am. But somehow it just seems thoughtless to treat a friend in such a way as well. I was contemplating whether or not to just let it all go and don't take it personally but somehow I just couldn't. Not this time. I don't want to fret about what happened. After all, it is in the past. I guess I'm just human and I cared too much to allow this to just pass like that. So sue me.

Somehow I just can't help feeling dissapointed. Maybe I was still looking for the friend which I thought was once there, and in a way still waiting for him to appear again. Is that person really still in there? Despite the clear signs, i still have that confusing feeling of uncertainty seeping in through all the tiny loop holes which I had created. You once did admit that you stopped caring after you knew that you had your other half. Maybe I am now in that category as well; the-once-a-friend group.

It's just difficult for me to go on being a supportive friend. Should I just quit or should I go on in this road which is leading to nothingness? At this point, I really don't know. This is after all, not the first time I'm experiencing this. It has happened one too many times. Love does indeed makes people selfish. Want to or not, you had a choice; but yes, I was very dissapointed indeed as a friend, that you chose otherwise.

I had gone through this and I should only know too well how to handle it, for I did survive everytime it happens. So what was it again the step which I took? Should I just follow the old remedy? Which was to just stop caring so much, for it only hurts worse when you cared too much; and just allow time to heal everything. But the thing which is causing me to be on fences is that I'm not sure if I want things to result the same as it had with the others? Whereby I just stopped caring and only listen whenever they needed someone to talk to. Being nothing but a listener, and stop investing anymore feelings. The thing is that once it has taken place, it's hard for me to reverse the effects then.

Am I being selfish? I really don't want to think about it. There's enough things in life to worry about and this is just not one of them which should be on the list. Afterall, I'm just doing what's best for myself at this moment; just like what you're doing. So it's all fair. Everyone's just protecting their own interest. Perhaps that's it. There's nothing left to be said and done.

Remember the game of hop-scotch?
The game we used to play together?
At the playground where our mom's watched out while talking to each other.

You once told me,
"I want to play with you forever;
because you are the most challenging player!"

From May up till September,
Our challengers were always each other;
It felt like it could all go on like that forever.

Then around came October,
We all met Bobby, who also came with his mother;
And who knew, who turned out to be an even better hop-scotcher.

After that you stopped dialing my number,
At the playground i'll just watch from a corner;
Playing from four to five with Bobby, the mvp hop-scotcher.

Then on the 7th of November,
You invited me to play with you, I remember;
The day when Bobby had to stay at home from a sprained shoulder.

You then ignored me for the whole month of December,
And played again in January with each other;
When Bobby went to the finals with his team from the little league of rounders.

Mom said that you now have a new friend,
She said I should get mine as well;
I'm not so sure, I just don't feel like playing at the playground any longer.

I can't stop rhyming. Now I know I've completely lost it.

Of the boy who says monyet sotong belacan

There's always something stupidly fun about talking to Rave on the phone. He's this retarded person who uses the most abstract words and the way he combines his phrases always end up coming out a totally different meaning from what he's actually trying to convey.

Another annoying thing that he enjoys doing while on the phone which never fails to make me want to bash up his skull is this; singing at the other end as if I was non-existant. -____-"

Despite all said and done, I still heart my chunky monkey! *looks around* mainly for his mental retardation.. which is like 98% of the time.

Welcome. Kindly leave your heart and all personal emotions in somewhere disposable. Thank you and enjoy the show.

People can mask their true-self so well that it's scary. There's so much fakeness going around that I seriously have no idea who to trust anymore. At one moment they can put up an incredible show; carnival to cotton candies. When they've gotten more than enough audience for their show, you'll just be discarded as another one of those one-time visitors. Is this how life would be? Where everyone is just treated like the last. I'm beginning to feel numb towards all these ushers; right from their pork-pie hat and red vest to their painted grins.

Perhaps this whole life is just a stage for a never-ending play. Everything is just a show and everyone is an actor in this eternal production. Everything is scripted and that's how it will go on. Nothing should be taken personally since it's all just showbiz. Perhaps it's time I joined this play. I'm sick of being the audience. I want to be on the stage to crush the emotions of new audiences as well, just like the way my emotions were being played around by their superb acting whilst watching this whole play. Can I? There's always an opening for actors/actresses. Perhaps I should just give it a shot. Perhaps I should put the ambulance on speed dial.

This post has got nothing to do with Gerard Darrel or Harvey Nichols

Remember those days where all we had to worry about was which pair of shoes should go with which pants or shirt so that we don't go to our tuition place looking like a fashion disaster who got kicked out of clown college?

Actually I never really had those days since I was the one who could stand going to extra classes with the same hoodie for 2 weeks in a row. I was one of those who didn't give nuts about what people saw me as. No, I wouldn't say that I was proud of those days, but at the same time I just couldn't care less to actually bother about it. Wait a minute. What was I suppose to write about? Why am I blabbering about my fashion disaster days? Perhaps one of the reason is that it's 1.15am and I'm still very much awake. Was it the excessively-sweetened kopi peng from downstairs? Or is it the fact that I'm very much in conflict with my own conscience and emotions at the current moment? I'm currently surrounded with crap coming from every possible direction. Maybe it's not actually THAT bad, but it sure feels that way right now. Good thing that I'm coping with it better than I expected. After what happened two weeks ago, I realized that there are a lot of things which I'm actually capable of dealing with on my own. So I guess that's pretty good.

For some reason, I can't seem to fill the pages with happy thoughts these days. Maybe I'm just another boring person who loses herself in her own thoughts most of the time. I just can't seem to kick of the mentality of taking my room as a permanent sanctuary; with my records and a pen and a book, that's all I really need to help me go through the days. It's bad for the soul, to contain myself in a glass jar and shut the whole world off, and depressing songs playing non-stop on the player isn't exactly helping either. But it's so addictive at the same time. It's a jar which I want to lock myself in for as long as I can. I don't really give a shit about what's happening on the outside. People sicken me a lot these days. Perhaps it's a two-way situation, whereby people around me find me sickening as well. Like I give nuts about what they think about me. I really have to pull myself out of this situation before I die from depression.

I've gone out of this comfort zone many a times, but after a couple of weeks or months even, I'll find myself going back into the jar. It's just like diving underwater for a period, then you start struggling and gather up all your strength to quickly swim back to the surface to catch a breath. It's that feeling of gasping for air; where it squeezes all the air out of your already infected lungs.

I just want to listen to all the songs on my music list till I fall asleep and wake up three days later. Now all I need is a pair of big ass earphones which blocks out every single sound from outside.

Is this thing on?

Dear Chunky Monkey,

It's been a while since we last talked. Somehow it just feels different now. I don't know why. Perhaps it's from all the stresses and pressures that we're both going through. I'm doing my best to cope up with it. How about you?

I hope that you're able to keep your head up even at the midst of all this stuff that's taking place. I don't know how tough it is to be in your position but I believe that you'll come out a stronger person. You're a lot tougher than you think you are. You're always worrying that you're not able to make the wisest choices all the time, but if you're already doing your best, then that's all that matters. Don't be too hard on yourself. All those self-inflicted pain is only causing destruction to yourself; both mentally and physically. There are some things which you just have to learn to let go. Even you've said it yourself that not everyone has the ability to change another person. You're not a saint, and no one's expecting you to be either. The only thing that matters is that you're doing your best.

Sometimes you have to remind yourself that we are all just human. We can't expect too much from others. Life would be full of dissapointments if we kept up with that attitude. It's always important to appreciate and cherish the little things in life. It's always easy to lose track of the important things in life when we focus too much on visualizing the world the way we want it to be. That's when we start straying off from the real world.

Always remember that God always promises us a rainbow after a storm. It might sound cheesy and all that cynical descriptions which you might come up with after reading that line, but it's true. And sometimes as humans, we do need a little motivation and hope to keep us moving forward. Just remember that that's His promise to us.

There's a million things which I want to say to you but I just can't bring myself to do it, at least not at the current moment. I might not be the best at saying this kind of stuff, but I just wanted you to know that no matter what happens, we're always here for you; because that's what friends are for. Take care. :]

Benchwarmers

So much had happened in the last two weeks that even I myself found it hard to believe that THAT was all in less than fourteen days.

Sad to say that not all of them were of good news. Almost all of them were bad news actually. I must be running out of luck these days. So that means better luck is just around the corner right? Hehehehe..*fingers and toes and everything crossable crossed*

Anyways, I was just flipping through last November's copy of teenvogue (the one with Kirsten Dunst on the coverpage) and it kinda reminded me of one line in Elizabethtown; "we are the substitute people". Then the mind started wondering...

Perhaps there is a lot of truth in that line. We are all substitutes of another person in a way, and the other person is a substitute to another person, and so on and so forth. So what are we doing about it? Just watching it happen and let it spiral down into doomness? Maybe we are the voluntarily substituted people of our times. We complain when it gets too much, but then we just go on our duty of being another person's substitute of his/her other more important, but unfortunately-absent-for-the-time-being person.

So the question is that WHY do we allow ourselves to be the substitute people? Out of pure sick fun which we get from being mentally tortured? Or is it that we'd rather be the substitutes than to be nothing at all? Regardless of us being aware of the fact that this whole benchwarming routine is never gonna get us anywhere.

Then the other thing that happened for almost two weeks already is this... *drumroll* ... I've quitted smoking for 11 days already!!! Muahahaha.. Perhaps it's not such a big thing to shout about, but it is an accomplishment for now, especially at this time where every little thing matters more than ever. Was sick like a dog for the whole week and the whole quitting couldn't have came at a worst time. I was coughing my lungs out every single day, but thank God I managed to go through that phase and came out alive, and with no cigarette in hand! Hehehehe..

People think that I'm not aware of all these dangers that I'm exposing myself to, but come on. I'm only human. Of course I know what I'm putting into my body, I'm not an ignorant person, just that I made a stupid choice and that's it. At least I know what I'm doing now, and if you're going to support me to go further to stay clean then thank you. It really means the world to me. But if you're going to preach about how stupid I was and all that, then kindly show yourself to the back door. I've known my mistakes and I'm now moving on, so after this whole rough week, nagging just for the sake of proving to me further of how stupid I was and also to show me your extensive knowledge on the dangers of nicotine is the last thing I need right now.

I guess all these idiocricy only makes us another human on this globe which was once nothing but a spec of dust.

Salvation Army

Nearly finished a pack of cigs in 3 hours...
There's only three left...
I'm gonna bathe now and then finish up the rest when I'm done...
I need a new inhaler...
Do they sell used inhalers in Salvation Army?

Bury me

So exhausted...

Physically and emotionally..

The attack of the lard ass

Slept at 9am and woke up around 11am. I was kinda contemplating whether to take the 12pm bus to college and just wait in the library till 2pm before I see my lecturer, or to take the 2pm bus and hopefully get there by 2.10pm max.

I've always had hard times trying to drag my lard ass out of bed, especially with all the sleep deprivation I'm putting myself through. So yeah, I ended up going back to bed but my guilt kept me awake every 10-15mins. So no, it wasn't a good sleep.

Finally managed to pull myself up at 1.15pm and I'm now multitasking; blow-drying my hair and typing. And it's already 1.45pm...

... and now it's officially... 1.55pm!!!

Gotta run!!!

Being cherries. I mean, cheery.

I just realized that I haven't posted much on the usual normal stuff which I used to blog about. This whole blogspot is like a depression hole! *shivers*

Rave was just saying earlier that the whole black background gives the impression of a dark and morbid atmosphere. Perhaps that was my intention. Or else why did you think I chose this template? Because I was going for the gothic look? Pfftt please... *rolls eyes*

Anyways, I was drowning myself in this whole emotional thing for weeks already and it IS killing me inside. I need more happy people dancing around in tutus and brightly coloured leotards to surround with to over-shadow this whole morbid feeling I'm carrying around. Reminds me of the faceless shadow in "Spirited Away".

There's so much that I want to write about but too bad my camera's not here with me at the moment, and it's no fun when there's no pictures to show. *pouts* Okay.. I was just being silly back there. Don't get a heart attack because I can assure you that I don't pout in real-life... unless I know you very well and I'm trying to annoy the shit out of you.

Actually it was all thanks to *cough Rave cough* that I was reminded about our little weekend getaway to Cameron Highlands last Friday. It was some serious fun we had there. Just the three of us. Kenny, Rave and yours truly. :]

Dang! I really want to write about it right now... but I guess it'll be better to do it when I get back my camera on Monday. Have patience~ Patience~ Patience~ Omm~

Dissimulate

Cylinder
Beautiful cylinder
Idiotic
In so many
too many ways
But still
It's beauty
carefully sculptured
Retained deep within
So deep
In my delirious mind

Once
Twice
It keeps me sane
From
Commas
Dashes
Periods
Jumbled letters
From
People
Feelings
Emotions
Delusions
Slowly vanishing
So slowly
Beautifully crafted
Into swirls and circles

Like a goddess
Bringing out
the best
the worst
Still...
providing
Sanity
Solitude
Even if
Like driving
So fast
So grievious
Almost (but still not so)
Life-threatening

Blue Skies and Broken Hearts

I smile
with pure happiness
when the bird sings
when the grass is green
And when I turn around
When you look at me <3

xoxo 19/98

*crumples*

Turtledoves
Mistletoes
Twelve months
of patient waitings
All of that for just
one day
Was it worth it?

Prams and cribs
Nurseries
and teddies
Nine months
of painful waitings
All of that for just
one day
Was it worth it?

Tears
Laughters
Night skies
and unruffled sheets
Lost count
of silent waitings
All of that for just
one day (to come?)
Is it worth it?

Unspoken

Just finished reading a friend's post and it actually made me think back of the times when I didn't sound out what I thought should've been voiced out. Perhaps the word "should" is not exactly the most appropriate one to be used, but then again maybe it is.

I've always been the type who cares about people's emotions; maybe not successfully at all times but I do try not to be offensive. Sometimes up to the point that it annoys "me". But I guess it's just me; old habits die hard.

Everyone builds their own ways of going through life based on their own principles. Some are the type who thinks that they can selflessly allow themselves to be hated as long as the people they care about will change for the better. For me, I will sound out if I think it isn't right, but if the person still refuses to change then I won't be the one to be reminding at all times; but I will be there to be on the lookout with a first aid kit so that if the person were to fall and bleed too much to the verge of dying then only I shall help him up. In short, I will allow the person whom I care to run around, fall and hurt himself, and if possible try to find his own first aid kit, but I won't allow to see him bleed to death.

Anyways, there's this friend of mine who does give me the impression of being a little too straight-forward sometimes; the type who wouldn't bend much (or at all) for the sake of simpatico. I have tried sounding it out but the reply given wasn't exactly what I had in mind, at least not from a person like this. So I guess I more or less just left it at there then, as I didn't feel that by reminding people of their wrong-doings at all times was the most comfortable way of handling things for both parties. Sometimes it's necessary for someone to learn things on their own; build themselves up in a way no one else could.

Now when I look back, perhaps it wasn't exactly the best way of being a friend by not sounding out at that time. But then again, my intentions weren't of evil ones and the conscience was clear and the outcome was exactly of what I was hoping for. So yeah, it does makes me feel pretty darn good in a way. At least to know that what I did at that time which seemed to look selfish, even to myself, was not exactly the worst thing in fact. I guess sometimes we just have to believe and have patience and never to lose hope. It wasn't easy, especially when the whole guilty conscience comes up trying to bug me from time to time, but I was lucky to be able to overcome that feeling.

Gardens and Mazes

Sometimes I can feel myself spiralling down so fast that I couldn't even grab on something for support. I don't expect sympathy from others; neither do I want any. All I'm hoping for is some empathy and time for self-recovery. If only things were that simple then perhaps all those long forgotten pictures would've been taken down; instead of being left on the walls to be covered with thin layers of dusts.

They are some which can be revealed while others are just meant to be stored in old chests. Photographic memories could be so painful sometimes. They make you feel like a pool being pimpled by rain drops; the ripples causing a shaky effect which traumatises the being.

Going to college still gives me the feeling of rolling into a new town at times; unsettling and awkwardly silent. Maybe this is the time to see a shrink to get some much needed help.

A good pair of chucks and a friend

I just got off the phone with my friend after a three hours conversation which started from 3am. I miss talking to her. I miss having her around. I miss her retardness. I miss making fun of her. I miss those days we spent in Cameron Highlands and the meal of healthy steamboat with the rest of our friends.

I can't believe how much I miss having my high school friends around. We've all gone down our own paths but still there's always something unmistakably familiar about each one of us everytime we talk again. It's like this pair of shoes which you just can't seem to throw away no matter how old and torn it is. There's always a funny kind of comfort in those pair of shoes.

Sometimes friends are really like shoes. They all look pretty on the outside when it's all still brand new and unworn. It takes a little while from wearing them then only you can tell the ones which hurts from the ones which are comfortable. And you'll be surprised how far you can go with the comfy ones. Another similarity between friends and shoes is that it's not everyday where you come across a perfect fitted one.

Of the A-B-C's of a Procrastinator and Blogging

Like any usual Sundays, I was in this holiday/weirdly-worrying-for-no-apparent-reason mood. It has been this way for as long as I can remember. Fridays are the best; then Saturday will be the day where the line "Ahh.. It's only Saturday so I still have tonight to start with my work (which for some reason never happens)"; Then it's "Ahh.. I'll just sleep and do my work tomorrow for it's only Sunday". And when Sunday rolls in, you'll just keep pushing it away until it's FINALLY Sunday night! THEN only you'll start panicking and all that mindfucks you get on Sunday's but STILL end up managing to live through it and only start the work on the ghostly hours of Monday.

Dad is always saying that THAT is what's leading to my failure. Spoken like a true Papa.

Anyways, I was talking to a friend recently about this whole blogging frenzy and the whole weeks conversation had consisted of nothing which doesn't involve the "B" word which also includes of hearing them contemplating about what to blog on.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I find it annoying when people do that, it's just that it's funny to see why do some take blogging as a serious daily affair; like the bible to a staunch one. Yes, although I do admit that I am one of those who would ponder for hours on the grammar part alone of a piece of writing; where a semi-colon or a comma will take me hours to decide just to make sure that it will set the whole piece in the perfect ambiance, to the point of annoying the crap out of others. It's just that this whole blogging scene has somehow given people the idea of wanting to sell their philosophies through their writing, more than the purpose of sharing thoughts through conversation-triggering pieces.

Perhaps that's one of the reasons why sometimes I would rather much prefer to keep quiet and just listen to what is been said than to be the one talking all the time. Contrary to the sayings such as, "speak up and be heard"; "speak up or you will never be heard"; or "the bird which chirps gets the worm".. well actually I kinda made up the last one out of excessive brain juice flows. Anyways, what I meant was I prefer to only speak up when I want to be heard. Maybe it's all those years of Dad's nagging about me talking too much and all those "In order to be a good speaker, you must first be a good listener". I guess it really did get to me in a way. Or perhaps it's the lack of people to click with which kinda makes me not wanting to talk much.

I hope it's not like what a friend of mine said, "Maybe it's that we're getting older..."

Disclaimer: The quotation above has been edited so that it appears simpatico with the whole idea.

P/s: The whole writing was done at 3am so please pardon the illogical flow.

Dad, why are the people black?

As usual, I was going on on my daily dosage of blog-reading and a friend of mine who just started Blogger recently had to "migrate" over to Xanga since his account was totally screwed up. So I was going through his new blog as I was expecting some new posts in there; turns out that he just copied and pasted the existing ones from Blogger.

Anyways, since there was nothing better to do and I WAS already in his page, I just went and explored around everything which could be.. explored. As I was going through his profile, he actually had "Cambodia" under the column of "places travelled". It was kinda surprising actually because this friend gave me the impression of the "high-maintainence-traveller" air around him, especially after we had a conversation once about me wanting to travel to Thailand and Mexico and those kind of low-budget/back packing trips where there's a lot of walking to be done. And he mentioned that he didn't like countries like that.

So being the usual skeptical-self, I turned around and asked him about it and this was how it went:

Me: Hey! I didn't know that you've been to Cambodia!

He: Yalar! I was really young back then. (THAT explains a lot)

Me: Cool! So how was it there? (Really enthusiastic coz I've always loved countries like these)

He: Erm.. I can't really remember actually. All I remembered was that the cows were white and the people were black.

Me: 0.o"

And then the next 15 minutes consisted of me laughing and snorting and laughing somemore.

He: Geez.. What's so funny about it?!! I was still young lar at that time! All I could remember was that the cows were really white and the people were all black.. I could't understand why lar at that age!

Unfortunately, his little defensive speech only made me appreciate of how priceless this friend was. I shall now walk away from the conversation and continue with my snort laughters till I die from over-twisted-guts-and-intestines syndrome. Have a nice day!

Of summer winds and silence

Something unexpected took place today. I was going through some articles and poems of a friend's friend and somewhere between those lines, it actually brought back a lot of memories and thoughts and feelings which I had tucked away at a safe corner for quite sometime now. It feels like they're back to haunt the present.

I'm not sure if it's bad or not, but it was really disturbing. It's like a part of me which I tried to bury alive is now digging up from it's own grave. It creeps up from it's aged grave and it kills you slowly inside. It feels like something inside you is slowly dying. You're not sure from what exactly, but all you can do is feel the dead feeling seeping in little by little; up to the point where you feel that emptiness from the hole that the ghost has eaten up when it's too late and too painful to even feel anything anymore.

Regardless of how harmful it is to allow myself to drown in this, sometimes there is some kind off sick comfort in it.

I'm just going to spin Phil Campbell in the player and hopefully it will kick those effing ghosts back to where they belong.. for the time being.

Of Dona Maria and Phil Campbell

It's 3.55am and my eyes are still wide open. I can't seem to swing my routine back to the one's of a human anymore.. at least not for these few days. There's been too much going on in my head right now.

It's freaky how the society has turned to blogging as their source of ranting out their anger, happiness, complains etc... So I have fallen into this category of people who seem to have a better deal with releasing those mindfucks into cyberspace as well. Maybe it's just a psychological thing.. I'm not sure really. Sometimes I get the feeling that people are just putting things into their own "psychological terms" and think that they know something something about the subject. But then again, who am I to say whether are these people right or wrong? I'm just putting my two cents into something unimportant anyways so I don't really want to think much about this.

It's funny how sometimes I tend to fall into a position where I stuff my emotions into this capsule and catapult it into the air aimlessly and just let it fall wherever it falls. Then I only worry about it when I come across it when I come across it. It's bad I know. I don't need someone to tell me that it's not the best way to handle stuff but for some odd reason, sometimes it's just more comfortable handling our issues in our own way although we know very well that it's just not right. I don't know. Maybe it's that I'm addicted to making stupid mistakes. Maybe there's some kind of sick fun in it. =/

I can see myself blabbering away now. Better get some sleep before I die in front of the computer. Night.

I was not born a loser.. Something just went wrong when I reached puberty age

So I haven't exactly been the most consistent blogger, especially in Blogger. Not when there's the convinience of doing so in Friendster. But I have to admit, there's something about Blogger which makes it different. It's just like comparing a school uniform with a dress; they're both dresses yet so different in so many ways. In our Malaysian turqouise uniform-dress, there are boundaries and limitations to everything you do while you're in it. Whereas with a normal dress, who cares what the heck you're doing when you're dressed casually? That didn't sound exactly the way I intended it to be, but it's something between those lines.

Anyways, a friend recently asked me about blogspot and it actually reminded me that "Hey! I still have another place to blog besides the one provided in Friendster!" So yeah, the rest was history.

I was reading my older posts in my Friendster blog and I can't believe that THAT was me! I would have kicked "me" in the ass without any hesitation! *shudders* Update later after I've finished reminiscing over my old entries.

p/s: And also after I'm done dunking my own head into the toilet bowl and flush it a million times to get rid of all the embarrassing stuff I wrote.