canvas

w.t.f

2011-11-01T01:54:00.003+08:00

Sometimes its hard getting out of bed. Sleeping, you disappear into a beautiful place, filled with beautiful dreams. Dreams where you are everything. The world holds so much inertia its painful to stand, and I'm still in the runt where I get out of bed and walk about, and every step still hurts.

Its not that I'm depressed, like I thought I was. Its just that I'm a dreamer. Whether I was born this way, or brought up this way, I don't really care. I just am. By the age of 7 I strolled the playground alone pondering the true meaning of existence. I looked at trees and mud and saw the beauty of the colors and the textures and the smells. Instead of socializing, I imagined social circumstances where I am this confident, strong, brave girl who knows exactly what to say. I learnt to write to describe this girl, to let her loose into the world, to share with the world what she thinks and sees and feels. I can say it kept me sane. It kept me going. This brave girl knew how to get through heartbreaks, confusion, and issues of self-worth. It kept me from becoming the worst I could be. Even today.

And no one appreciates her more than I do. Maybe that's why I'm protective of her. I'm defensive when people see her flaws, especially her greatest flaw - that she's hidden. Outside, I'm fake, patronizing, I morph into anything you want me to be. And if I like who I am with you, I make friends with you. Simple as that.

But she has no foresight. I can't see myself ten years from now, or five years from now, or even next month or tomorrow. Some days I wake up hating myself, some days I feel brilliant and spectacular. But that's how I do it, I survive day by day. And I hope that every day, I'm still living a life.

Yet, while I say that I'm a dreamer, I don't "dream" anymore. Obviously. I don't dare to imagine myself on a stage in new york singing "On My Own", like I did in that choir room watching lea salonga. I don't dare read The Lovely Bones and imagining my name on a book like that. Everything I write is stale and bland and grotesque. Filled with metaphors, poet's licenses, and sexual innuendos. Its not the first time someone's told me to fight for something, to stop making concessions. I still make them today. Doing this degree is a concession in itself. I hold myself back because I don't dare to fight for something. I don't know how, I've never fought and won a war.

I can't believe I'm bringing this up again. That after all this time, I'm still the branch that bends to the wind. I give in to everyone. Even you. And sometimes, after a fight, I hate myself for it.

How will I fight for my right to get a certain job in the future? How will I fight for my right to raise my children my way? How sure am I that my choices are right? Would I be able to live with those consequences, not having someone else to blame?

I've only ever fought for one thing. And that's you.

And that's already bewildering me.

I need to figure this shit out. Starting from here.

2011-10-14T10:48:00.002+08:00

There's only so much of the dreamer I can take. So much of the hopeful and the joyful. The adventure and the flight. I'm not the fantastic. I'm not the brilliant, the Enid Blyton kid on the wishing chair, climbing trees and meeting pixies, I'm not the boy who hitches a ride from birds, visits planets, and knows better than adults. I'm not anything from anywhere.

And this thing that I'm trying to be? We're not on the best terms.

I'm a girl who has her head in one book or another. A girl who scoops ice cream, has a personal struggle with self-esteem, who looks up in the city sky and sees a dull, off-black nothingness. A girl who has loved, and lost, and cares about what others think, yet doesn't want to at all. She doesn't know how to have fun, she doesn't want to tumble down hills to see the sunrise. And she doesn't think there's anything wrong with it.

So why does the world say otherwise? If the extraordinary and strange are celebrated, what happens to the mediocre?

sticks and stains

2011-09-29T07:40:00.002+08:00

I think its a pretty nice thought, not having to put yourself out there to fulfill some criteria, not feeling guilty for saving yourself for yourself. I don't really need to be social. I mean its nice, but it saves me superficial time from superficial people.

I'm glad I finally realized the other person out there, who is me, but isn't me. The doppleganger, the Moira, the other person that I really really want to be, and I acknowledge that the person isn't me yet. But it will be, one day. And till then, I'll have my sisters, who understand me in and out, who stick by me thick and thin. Spencer, who knows me better than I can ever hope people will, and knows my deepest dreams and wishes. My niece, who gives me hope that the world is more beautiful that it may appear to be. I still feel that tight grasp on my neck sometimes, like she really needs me.

I love that feeling.

2101 midterms today, and I'm not really that focused. Even if I did wake up at 4 to mug. I keep thinking of the billion things I could be doing or experiencing right now. But perseverance is a skill, and I'm still waiting for that Life that Grayling promised me.

For now, you can call me Ishmael.

You look just like your mother.

2011-09-29T07:26:00.003+08:00

You look just like your mother,

as they sifted through the sheets,

numbers thrown about, figures to the streets.

Her eyes, the same shape, like your thighs and your teeth,

crooked the same, stained the same way,

clenching admist disarray.

You look just like your mother,

your bones all lay bare, as they came

throttling your achievements like flesh to skin.

Her fingers, torn between disgust

and a child, she held to her bosom,

peace to pain, life to death.

You look just like her, I swear.

You know what that says about you, right?

The first poem I've written in a long time. And its right before my midterm. What does that say about my muses? :/

Insecure Bitch

2011-09-07T01:08:00.002+08:00

My eyes shift about the crowds, and my palms grow sweaty. I'm holding a book to my chest, and a backpack hangs from your tensing shoulders. Its not a good day. Then again, it hasn't been for awhile. My book's my shield, and the backpack is for sloppy convenience.

Seriously, how much of this can I take? I remember the night before, sitting in front of the computer and analyzing other people's social lives on the internet. No, its not a bad thing anymore, that's why its public. Yet, its so glaring that it pinches in my chest. I try to remind myself that some of it is fake, like how some of me is fake. Everyone's fake, like that girl I know, who thrives on falsity, or that guy I know who constructs social interactions in his bedroom at night. Its a reason why I don't try too hard. But by keeping my distance, it feels like I am.

Distance is relative. I'm packed into a sardine of students, chattering boldly, absorbing information for future use. Its a social construct, a mechanism to be manipulated. But I rather not. I do it, as it is my duty, but not too much. I know who I am.

Yet, distance is something that eludes everyone. One day, I know I will be forgotten. That face people will remember as "that girl that was nice" or "that girl I spoke to once in the stairwell". That's me. But its by my volition, and no one gets that. No one does that. Much. Or if they do, I don't notice them at all.

Well, there you go.

Its better, I think, than being the cause for pain. For being yourself and making mistakes, and end up screwing up someone else's life. For trusting in someone, and getting hurt in the process. For giving your all, and later end up being used. Distance is relative. Distance eludes. Distance protects.

It has been so long since I've been myself, and I'm not sure how to be that thing. Not really. What I am, or who I am, is a thing that is private. Sometimes I think its a waste that it is, but when I remember why I do it - the faults I've made, the stupid things I've said, the things I've done whole-heartedly, and the people. Oh, those fucked up people.

Of course it makes me sad. Of course I'd rather have a ton of friends, who understand me, and can rely on me. Its a given. Everyone feels that way some of the time. That's the part that makes me insecure. That, what I think I should do, conflicts with what I want. Its a constant clash of interest within me. That I want to do so much more than me. Yet, I choose to be what I am now.

Is it strange that I want to be accepted for that? Its a little oxymoronic. And a dash bit whiney.

Oh well.

feiyue

2011-08-27T01:09:00.002+08:00

So obsessed. With those shoes.

(credit: grannysdayout.com)

(credit: feiyue-shoes.blogspot.com)

(credit: feiyue-shoes.com)

whipped dog.

2011-08-11T00:29:00.001+08:00

Its very easy nowadays to feel like nothing, to disappear into your self and let the hurt from all 'those things' just bubble over silently. And you're so ashamed of "letting it get to you" that you shut up and take the shit. And apologize for it.

I want to be stronger.

Irksome

2011-08-07T03:43:00.001+08:00

I guess if it were possible, I would be less distressed, but only through personal choices. After all, no one would choose to feel this crap. The world seems oppressive in it's choice of challenges. Then again, challenges were never meant to be liberating, as strength does not come from having nothing to think of.

Time alone can tell what is to appear, and for now, I can only choose to be stronger, to be wiser, and to do what I believe is right. I wish more than anything immediate happiness for myself and my loved ones, but if it were not possible, I would have to fight for what is, even if wrought with perilous choices. I would fight for my right to love.

It does not matter that people do not agree with me, and it does not matter that they think themselves wiser than I on choices of my own happiness. But it is clear to those who know me what has been best and true for me. This who cause me the greatest unhappiness are those who chose to dictate inconsiderably and judgmentally. I fear that the world would be full of them, and even those with best characters would be fraught with such flaws. I cannot escape the judgements of others, but I can turn myself cold to them. It has hurt me to be so naive as to believe the best of others, and I am sick and tired to doing so. I would rather be jaded than hurt once more.

I know who I can trust and whom it is that understands me best, and while I once believed that I needed to justify my emotions and actions, I now no longer do. I'm tired of being nice, sweet, or anything pleasant that people may have once said of me, because it gives those people liberties to abuse and make use of me. No more. Feel free to judge me in any way you like. I'd tell you to fuck off and get a life.

I have lost my trust in many people I know. I have lost faith in people I once believed had my best interest in mind. And for now, I will be more defensive than ever. To my dearest and true friends, I am sorry. I am not as strong as I would like to be, and I sometimes give way to sadness and isolation. I would love to learn to be the truest friend, but for now I am not sure if I'd dare to be one. Not really.

And thank you, spence, for never giving up on me.

Suck it.

2011-07-27T16:53:00.002+08:00

Holidays are coming to an end, and with it, an end to a long period of self- reflection. As a sentimental type, I would be more inclined than most to want to look back on my actions and associations, and with such a move, I would no doubt engage in certain changes that result from experiences, that led to thoughts, that later crystalized itself into beliefs.

The first thing I learnt is that people who form first impressions of others without truly engaging the other free of preconceptions is not worthy of being in company. This may seem harsh, but it is a flaw that too many share, and as most characterial flaws are contagious, keeping company of such people would only limit your abilities to experience life to it's fullest. Being narrow-minded and near-sighted is easy enough when constrained to an environment as limiting as a small island, but punishing yourself further by limiting your thoughts with judgement and conceit only makes the world you live in smaller and the world outside more bitter and uninviting than it actually is. I would not claim to be free of such prejudices, but I aim to nip this problem at the bud, and save myself when I can. And ridding myself of people who would influence me otherwise is a step I plan to take.

Second thing I've learnt is that with family comes certain obligations. Whether powered by love or guilt, the ties that blood bind us to are tough and unrelenting. However, it is important not to let these ties get in the way of personal growth and freedom. This is because family ties are wonderful things, if and only if, your family acts on love. It is, of course, not always the case. Therefore, you are responsible for your own personal growth, and to blame others for your flaws created through familial issues, such as an absent parent or a home riddled with disputes, is like blaming the weather for your illnesses. Take some vitamins, and suck it.

I do not claim to be politically correct, nor do I claim to have the best antidotes to the poisons. All I do is done from my own thoughts and learnt from my own problems. Independence is something I would not try to change for the world. Yet, support is something I'm most grateful for. The most important thing I've learnt, therefore, is that the two can coexist. And I'm very glad for it. Very.

Mindfuck

2011-06-30T21:45:00.002+08:00

Day in, day out.

Emptying pockets, emptying diaries, emptying minds.

Needless this, needless that. And endless procrastination.

Waking up to a bare back and a hand to hold.

That pretty much sums up my holidays so far. Things that i wish I could tell my world of friends, to confide in them and let them know the full extent of my woes and my joys. But that's the beauty of individuality. This odd, beautiful mix is mine, and mine alone to keep. The existence of thoughts and visuals and experiences are mine, and I think that is something I should be able to be selfish about. Perhaps it's mores the beauty of introspection.

And here, I throw a couple of non-committal words, and BLAM. In essence, I've said nothing.

Ha ha. Fooled ya;)

It's just as well for all I've seen

2011-06-14T01:36:00.003+08:00

I'm thinking too much tonight. Thoughts of time passed and my inability to express these thoughts. My failure at trying to be a person of no regrets, yet regret builds a maze of paradox within a logical mind. How could I have done it any other way? Was it possible to shield my heart and still my tongue? To tell myself that giving up early was the best option?

No. I would not have given up. That is the stubbornness of me, blinding logic with love, and loving till I don't. The crassness of ending relationships sounds so vulgar against the valour and idealism of eternal love, that simply not loving anymore is not an option. A contradiction of what love is. Or is it?

'Saving myself the heartbreak' just doesn't work for me. And though I know how much it hurts, many times over, i'd still do it again. And again. And again.

And honestly? It scares the fuck out of me.

It makes me feel a little fragile. A little thin. But if I can't trust you, who can I trust?

In every heart there is a room,
A sanctuary safe and strong,
To heal the wounds of lovers past,
Until a new one comes along (...)
And I will share this room with you,
That's if the choice were mine to make.
But you can make decisions to,
And you can have this heart to break.

boats of thought

2011-06-10T11:55:00.002+08:00

The fascinating thing about it, is how the smallest things become amazing. Things that you miss when you walk down the street, surrounded by people. Things that are taken for granted as time passes, and routine sets in like a fog, like fingers set before your eyes, and you're forced to guess how it had once felt. How it felt, to feel hot breath on your bare skin, fully conscious that his lips, though cracked and dry, are soft and close by. To not be able to see, but feel his presence from the electric dancing on your skin. To feel a single fingertip's touch, and have all the tension within you release, to lose yourself to a nail, a hair, a hand.

It is like looking through a glass, seeing only the mole on his lip, the brown in his eyes, or the wrinkle on his cheek. Every bit of mundane, simple, ordinary bit of person, amazing. The fascinating thing about it is that it turns you back to a child, experiencing something new, yet something familiar. Immersing into pools and puddles, smiles that burst your heart open, and rip you from the inside to absorb, and allow yourself to be. Completely Enthralled.

To find such things. Fascinating.

CAMP

2011-05-30T17:19:00.002+08:00

Argh Precamp was so tiring. But somehow rather satisfying(: Its a great feeling being an OGL, and being in the midst of everything. The hype, the screaming, the action, and the I'm so fucking tired but I'm going to get through this for the freshies. Its kind of a higher purpose than sleeping and eating and comfort.

I especially LOVE TUSHIE. Because though I was, and still am, worried that I won't be a good OGL, I'm surrounded by people who love me, and support me, and I feel 100% comfortable relying on them. After all, Arts Camp is going to be tough, and we all need to realize that we have to rely on each other to get through everything. Having people reassure me and support me and fool around with me (T HOUSE GOTTA GET DOWN WITH T HOUSE) makes me feel so loved(: And ever more excited that we're going to be going through this together.

I have an inkling that things are going to go right.

And it may be horrible of me, but its enough for me to get over my HORRIBLE RESULTS UGH and move on. I guess I've been anticipating it since exams ended. But I'm going to do better(:

I spent today lying in bed and watching videos because I almost fell asleep at lunch despite waking up at 11. Found a teen TV series called Victorious. And even though its very Disney Camp Rock/Hannah Montana/etc...

Its pretty cute, and good when my brain needs to rest. The lead girl is super hot and has nice clothes, the songs are catchy, and one of the supporting characters is the hot guy above, named Avan Jogia. So cute ;)

one to another to the next

2011-05-25T11:34:00.002+08:00

I never smoke. It is the line I draw around myself, the boundary that I set to keep myself sane. Never sleep with a stranger. Never post personal cam-whore photos on the internet. Never wear black tights with big Tshirts in Singapore. Never smoke.

But the idea of smoking has always been a romantic one. The instantaneous flicker of a flame, the smell of something burning, fingers tugging at something smooth, small and slim. And lips, either red, or cracked, or pale and thin; the brim of sophistication, touching paper with the slightest kiss -

Breathing in, you can almost see the swirls of smoke, filling pockets in lungs, then being caught in that momentary stasis - the burning, the tainting of blood - you close your eyes in a second of complete euphoria, satisfaction, nirvana between your teeth - and then the exhale. Plumes of smoke rise to the air, and everything for a second looks murky and dark.

Before you take another drag.

Of course the reality far undermines the idea, the dream-like realm of books and movies, a minute's action drawn out to ten. Then again, everything looks hot in slow-motion.

stop facebooking

2011-05-23T01:02:00.000+08:00

I'm not a people person.
I'm getting bored.
I'm getting annoyed.

"I don't know how to convince you that this is not one of their tricks. But I don't care. I am me."

2011-05-22T16:11:00.001+08:00

It feels different, having permission from the world to relax and do nothing. My limbs aching with satisfaction, my body begging for rest, and I, willingly obliging, dressing in cotton and wrapping myself in blue light and sheets. The world outside seems to ease to a halt, and the sun, furiously shining melds with the shadows in my room to emit a surprisingly warm and comforting glow. It is a good day to rest.

It is also a good day to surround myself with things I love. Old music, music that makes you feel old, familiar stories, and beautiful pictures, I've create a home away from home, away from Singapore, from school, from being a daughter, sister, friend, girlfriend, acquaintance, colleague. Today, I am me, in my shell of light, or art, and of sheets. I am, for once in a long while, relaxed.

I find myself unconsciously breathing a sigh. The world's complexities lie behind, the anxieties of the future lie ahead. Today, for a day, I stop looking.

waits, happily

2011-05-02T23:15:00.000+08:00

She likes to hide in corners and dirty crusts of door hinges. Far into the shadows where no one looks for love. She's happy there, curled into her toes, with her fingers entwined in the callouses on her bare feet. nail meets nail.

Its comfortable where she lies. Lying about, on secret desires, she reels her head back in time to watch men jump, rather high she believes, though she has never seen men jump for anyone else. She likes it that way, closing her eyes behind matted hair, she sees her favourite circle of sky. Comfort is King. Ignorance is Queen.

She never runs. She doesn't like the effort, the taste of her sweat is different, the weakness in her body feels foreign and unsatisfactory. She sits still, she lies still, in the shadows. Feet in, chest out, fingers grasping for air.

And she waits, happily.

sigh (:

2011-05-02T17:33:00.002+08:00

"Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”

- Rosemarie Urquico
:D

weepies weep too much

2011-04-30T22:23:00.000+08:00

woke up, wished that i was dead
with an aching in my head
i lay motionless in bed
thought of you and where you've gone
as the world spins madly on.

freedom

2011-04-30T22:15:00.000+08:00

restless, wanna jump off a roof and fly. and say morbid things on my blog. slash wrists, indulgent poetry and all that jazz. because i can (:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/yyellowbird/

koc

2011-04-25T00:33:00.001+08:00

I'll lose some sales and my boss won't be happy,
But I can't stop listening to the sound
Of two soft voices
Blended in perfection
From the reels of this record that I've found.

Every day there's a boy in the mirror asking me...
What are you doing here?
Finding all my previous motives
Growing increasingly unclear.

I've traveled far and I've burned all the bridges
I believed as soon as I hit land
All the other options held before me,
Would wither in the light of my plan.

So I'll lose some sales and my boss won't be happy,
But there's only one thing on my mind
Searching boxes underneath the counter,
On a chance that on a tape I'd find
A song for someone who needs somewhere to long for.

Homesick.
Because I no longer know where home is.

2011-04-21T19:51:00.002+08:00

I'm starting to remember why I decided to study economics. That said, it's a slow day studying, probably because I've been distracted with slot of thoughts and emotions, and despite all the critiques and social analysis on blogging as emotional recklessness, I think I can say that I'm enough of a responsible blogger.

As much as economics is beginning to fascinate me again, I'm so tired of school. Maybe it's the way I study, maybe it's incompatible with the structure of my school. But that's known territory, so I'll skip. But I'm starting to feel restless, eager to go out and do things again. I honestly havent REALLY listened to music in a while. And that. Really. Sucks.

Honestly, there was a point of time where I went through a patch of difficulty, a bit too much pressure, a bit too little direction. And I'd love to have wallowed in my pity and let myself go. But I'm here. And in record time too. I must be getting better at this. Maybe it's age.

But I just wanted to pause and thank people. Those who are patient with Liang and her various disappearing acts. Those who kept me going out my bedroom door. Those who notice. And spence, because even when he doesn't realize it, he always says the right things to cheer me back, get me freshened up, and walks me back out into the real world.

And if anyone finds my brown notebook with all my notes, please give it back. Studying a bitch without:(

sick of school yeah

2011-04-10T22:10:00.003+08:00

I guess there is such a thing as spending too much time wallowing in self-pity.
Just because I feel out of it doesn't mean that I should let myself be.

I'll be glad when this whole thing blows over, and I can return to being a hermit in my own devices.
Reliance hasn't always been my strong point ):

jizz (credit to tumblr)

2011-04-09T11:50:00.000+08:00

fashblimp

2011-03-24T09:55:00.002+08:00

Frankie Mag is amazing. All these photos are taken from there, you know. frankie.com.au. I'm like leeching off being the middleman from here to Perth, and leeching off all this brilliance.

and here's the Sartorialist(:

Ode to Friday (NUS style)

2011-03-24T08:06:00.000+08:00

Its Friday Friday,
Can’t go out on Friday
Cause I have projects and papers due on Monday, Monday
Its Friday Friday,
I’m stuck in school on Friday
Central Library is going to sucks the life out of the weekend
Studying studying YEAH studying studying YEAH
When when when when will I ever see the week end? :(

See, I can be a star too.

work-a-maulic.

2011-03-14T22:51:00.002+08:00

The other day I sat on the beach and searched myself. Still nothing. Sigh.

And though this sem has been super fun and stuff, I'm pretty messed up when it comes to studies. Need to catch up and buck up if I wanna push up/maintain my CAP. And the wish to move out is growing more and more again. Or if home weren't more dramatic and stayed more... calm and homely.

Everyone should just learn to chill and get along. Seriously.

2011-03-06T21:41:00.002+08:00

What is that one thing that'll keep me going? What is the reason why I'm doing all this shit?

I look in myself and see nothing:/ I've overcome all the bad motivations (aka people), and now I have nothing.

and yet I'm just squeaking.

2011-03-06T20:50:00.003+08:00

I'm learning along the way that there are some things that I MUST BE in order to survive in this world. I had once thought that just by being honest with yourself, that the world would adapt to me, and that wonderful people who will accept you for who you are will come forth and be part of your world. I'm starting to realize that I somehow NEED to get out of this comfort zone and stop being scared of people in order to get the things I really want out of life.

I have also come to understand that no one really understands how shy and withdrawn I can be, and how much people do scare me. So, I guess that's my battle to conquer.

I am also sick of myself willing myself to being something someone wants me to be. If that makes any sense. Sick of searching for acceptance. But I'm the party with the lesser bargaining power. For once I want to fight for something totally stupid, and get my way. Not to give in everytime until I am near broken, beaten and scarred, and have to say "look at me. doesn't all this warrant me some say?"

Listen to me. My voice ain't loud, but I want to be heard.

coming to terms

2011-03-04T09:49:00.002+08:00

As much as I loved SC, I can't say I liked myself much.

I often tell people that I'm glad that they never met me when I was in secondary school, because I was just so different back then. I just never realized how much I had changed, until I started trying to reconnect with things I'd left behind, and found out that I cant. And how some good traits of me that I had then have pretty much vanished, as I become a little more selfish with my emotions and my time (which I still can't decide if its a good thing).
But I guess some part of me is glad, because its the sacrifice to get to how far I've come. And I'm proud. Of all the demons I had purged, and all the obstacles I've overcome.

I just wish that happy memories I had of back then weren't so plagued with all my personal troubles. Because I am so grateful of the friends I made along the way, and especially all the friends who had stuck with me since then. If it weren't for them, I don't think I'll be much of a person today.

ruckus

2011-02-23T03:30:00.002+08:00

If only you could see how much of my thoughts you take up, if only you could understand how much of me is consumed. If only you could see how hard I try.

I wish I remembered who I was without you. For you. Perhaps I'd love her too.

Flipped out, ripped in

2011-02-13T00:36:00.002+08:00

Uptight and freaked out just isn't my thing. Tired of making sure everything in my life is perfect. Tired of being out of control, or more being scared of not being in control. Tired of being a control freak in my life.

I wanna break something. Maybe myself. On my soft sheets. On grey walls.

Fuck thinking too much. Shut off my brain and emotions.

grateful for love, music, and pop culture

2011-02-12T09:22:00.002+08:00

omagad a bus.

2011-02-09T18:20:00.002+08:00

It has been a very hectic week.

Spencer-time is down to a minimal, mugging time has shot up by a gazillion times (with the math I've been doing I can probably calculate the approximate times, but gazillion is a nice word) and I have slept and awoken every day thinking continuously about work I'm supposed to do.

I have goals to fulfill, you see.

But my ride home from school today was the most relaxing 15minutes I've had in a long time. Thank god for NUS's Bukit Timah Campus (which is a short walk from my house) and NUS's shuttle bus service. Hail BTC1, my wonderful savior from public buses filled with noisy students from misc secondary schools, NUS, SIM, Ngee Ann poly etc.

For fifteen minutes I had a bus all to myself (aside from 4 other people, including the bus driver).
For fifteen minutes I didn't text anyone, facebook anyone, or tweet anything.
For fifteen minutes I didn't think of homework, meetings, lectures, or errands to run.
For fifteen minutes I didn't even move. I swear.

I didn't move, didn't think, didn't talk. I just listened to my music, and watched the world go by. Empty bus, going through relatively empty streets.

And It Was Amazing.

I never realized how crowds affected your stress level. How someone sitting next to you on the bus can even affect you. I swear its even more relaxing than taking a cab.

Sorry if this sounds insane that I'm so delighted by a bus ride, but thats the pace that my life has been so far. My sister sent me a picture from Paris, where she is, alone and soaking up the atmosphere. I am so frickin jealous >:(

Someone fly me to the moon.... and leave me there. With some oxygen.

feist in the night

2011-02-07T01:28:00.003+08:00

(fuckyeahlesliefeist.tumblr)

Wrap myself up and take me home again
Too many heartaches in one lifetime ain't good for me
You figure it's the love that keeps you warm
Let this moment be forever
We won't ever feel the storm

You're the reason for my laughter and my sorrow
Blow out the candle I will burn again tomorrow
No man on earth can stand between my loving arms
And no matter how you hurt me, I will love you till I die

I ain't no vision, I'm the girl
Who loves you inside and out
Backwards and forwards with my heart hanging out
I love no other way
What are we gonna do if we lose that fire?

Oh Leslie Feist, why are you so Hot?

2011-01-29T00:14:00.001+08:00

I don't wanna feel like I have to be better.

sickdays under a blankie and a laptop

2011-01-27T12:09:00.003+08:00

Being sick gives you loads of time to search the internet for stuff. So far, I have found

1. The full 1962 To Kill a Mockingbird Film staring the wonderful Gregory Peck on Youtube
2. Loads of vintage clothing blogs, one of which is this
3. Much fabulous stuff sold on Etsy but since I have no monies or credit cards, makes me more depressed.
4. A very scary genre of film made in 70s and 80s called "Sexploitation Films", which are literally low budget films filled with nude women, risque storylines and arthouse-style cinematography. Technically Arthouse Porn for the hipsters that wear black berets and smoke in dingy coffeehouses. That's one type of film I'm never watching.
5. New ways to fall asleep.

Okay, the last one wasn't on the internet, but under cough syrup, the possibilities are boundless, especially joined with the endless possibilities of the internet. Sigh. I hate being sick.

COWMEOW

2011-01-17T21:24:00.004+08:00

Throughout a day, many random thoughts would run through my head.

1. You know those girls whose legs are skinnier and longer than how normal legs should be, and somehow end up walking like newborn fawns precariously balancing on stilts? I wish I could walk like them. Or at least get the license to.

2. IDONTGETITIDONTGETITIDONTGETITIDONTGETIT. Yeah, that's an inside joke, and a mean one at that.

3. I want a cat.

4. I have wayyy too many guy friends.

Okay, point 4 is just something I don't think I can change about myself. I tend to make more guy friends than girl friends. Its like a force of nature, and executed wrongly can often make me look like a total slut. The thing is, I'm not sure if it already does :/ But oh well, at least I know that I'm not some wannabe attention seeker from the guys. And I do wish I had more girlfriends. I think that I'm just not really tuned to typical girl frequency :/ Does that mean that the girl friends I have aren't typical girls?

I rather not answer that question:P

Anyway I want you to meet COW.

I think its the business cat. He (for the sake of not saying it) is filthy, but healthy looking, and hangs around the bizad LTs and canteen, so I assume its the business cat! He's super friendly, and today he decided to hang around LT16.

When Keith and I got to LT16 for BSP1004, he (Cow) was being fed wangwang by some other girl. But seeing us, he daoed the girl and came to us instead for some loving. And we loved him (scratched him) till he fell asleep on the bench and we had to go in for lecture. I swear that's the clearest picture of Keith and Cow. Too bad its so unglam.

SORRY.

Chinese parents?

2011-01-12T23:41:00.003+08:00

Reading an article on Amy Chua's Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother feels quite odd to me on two counts. One, that I had grown up with a single parent, my dad. And two, coming from a Singaporean family that is as Chinese as a family can be in a metropolitan country like Singapore. I mean, our population is dominantly Chinese, but the evolution of a nation's culture which is "one people, one nation" and all that jazz often makes room for certain preferences to skew to the western type.

But my point is, that when I had first read the preview to amy chua's article, I was filled with a mixed sense of horror and admiration. This led me to wonder what the rest of the reactions were, which stunned me further. Quotes from readers that thought it was a satire was strange and that she was abusive were amusing. But it's not that I'm heartless, it's just that I'm used to the whole idea of strict parenting that I never thought to think further into the differences in parenting styles across cultures, in this case Chinese versus American. My father was not the strictest of Chinese parents, i was allowed to go for sleepovers as a child, and my dad was the first to give me a standing ovation when I performed. But even I would think that praising a child for a mediocre grade in school, or not drilling your child in extracurricular activities seems negligent on the parent's part. I mean, if you don't expect more of your child, how do you expect your child to expect more of himself?

The problems that most of these American parents are afraid of is damage to the child's self esteem. I won't deny that it happens. My father had this impressive tool called "disappointment". He doesn't give out praises as freely as I guess most American parents would, and he'd often call me things like lazy, and ask what the problem is when I don't excel. I spent my childhood fighting, no, nursing that need to gain my father's approval, giving up things that were looked down on as distractions to the 'real goals in life', and working hard to excel in my academics.

And here's the tie-breaker of my mixed feelings to Amy Chua's Tiger-mother stance. If it weren't for the emotional and psychological pressure that my dad had put on me, I wouldn't have achieved the things that gives me pride today.

The chinese parent's way is not fool-proof. I spent years struggling with myself because of the Chinese parent's expectations. But if there are criticisms about how Chinese parents border on abusive, thats where I draw the line. Because its not easy to be a Chinese parent. It's not easy to be the bad guy in the eyes of the child you gave life to. If they could, I know that they would spoil their kids as much as they could. But there are more important things to worry about, like being able to support yourself, having the means and the freedom to do whatever you wish to do.

The least I could do for my own father is to get there.

advice

2011-01-12T09:34:00.003+08:00

what now, santa?

2011-01-03T03:04:00.002+08:00

Oh yeah. Happy New Year everyone.

This year's new year passed by so quickly that I've hardly had time to digest it. After all, the new year supposed to be this big symbolic time of year that everyone shares, and aims for new beginnings, right?

I guess so. Me, however? I've been stuck, rather like being in stasis, limbo, whichever. In case you were wondering, that's the mood I describe when I'm being pessimistic, which in the english language can mean a lack of optimism, in which optimistic thinking refers to looking forward to the future. And during the New Year's Day of 2011, I didn't. And I still don't.

This, I guess, can be what Spencer calls a 'lack of motivation'. Though, the remedy for this particular 'lack' is often misinterpretted. I do not think that putting pressure on me twenty-four seven instils in me a feeling of motivation. The last year has been spent fighting that increasing pushing of "why are you not motivated", instead of finding true motivation, and I am sick of it. Sick.

Perhaps this year I should follow Maslow's Heirachy of Needs (read here), or most fundamentally, be more conscious of the emotional baggage that I take upon myself. I spend my time worrying that taking the less peaceful road will lead to emotional turmoil on my part. But if I assert myself more carefully, I'll most probably take less upon myself to carry and to accumulate. And feel less like a footrest for people around me.

After all remedy rather than cure, right?

There are many things and events in 2010 that've left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. In time, they may go away. I hope.

Sorry for the bitter post people. Happy New Year, Merry Christmas, Happy Birthday and all that jazz.

i need to write to keep sane

2011-01-03T00:39:00.002+08:00

I am warm. all over. it is astounding how myths and legends can underestimate how warm souls can become when they collide. warm, I slide into your arms, where our words ache to touch each other, into submission we caress our symptoms and wallow in its sympathies. there is naught but here, but these phrases, where scandalousness rears its toll and drinks itself into our senses and our sights. warm, toasty, and fresh. what we wish to see, to feel, brigades its parades into neat squares, bite-sized and easy for each other to digest.

that's what we do. and when we've had enough to eat, we swallow.

if only i could put this to music

2010-12-29T10:13:00.002+08:00

I’m done the best I can
Between the sea and shore I have found land.
But shouts and screams never works as well
As the force that silence brings to quell.

I’m not as strong as I seem
I have no dignity to redeem
Scrambling on my feet and hands
And rather kneel instead of stand

Loss is the fear on which we cry
It brings the pride and spirit to die
If you’re to go, I will not stay
To let my being fade away.

If you're to go, I cannot stay
If you're to go I cannot stay

my profound fix

2010-12-16T11:57:00.000+08:00

It's empty in the valley of your heart
The sun, it rises slowly as you walk
Away from all the fears
And all the faults you've left behind

The harvest left no food for you to eat
You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see
But I have seen the same
I know the shame in your defeat

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

Cause I have other things to fill my time
You take what is yours and I'll take mine
Now let me at the truth
Which will refresh my broken mind

So tie me to a post and block my ears
I can see widows and orphans through my tears
I know my call despite my faults
And despite my growing fears

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

So come out of your cave walking on your hands
And see the world hanging upside down
You can understand dependence
When you know the maker's hand

So make your siren's call
And sing all you want
I will not hear what you have to say

Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be

And I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

-The Cave, Mumford and Sons

Declaration of "fuck you I'm still here aren't I?"

2010-11-28T17:20:00.002+08:00

Sometimes in your life, everything seems pointless. You stop trying to make sense of the chaos, and all you want to do is to curl up in your bed and make the rest of the world disappear. When you walk on the streets somehow knowing that no one cares if you're there amongst them or dead.

Well I won't let today be one of those days.

or is it this dancing june?

2010-11-26T16:05:00.000+08:00

I WANT EXAMS TO BE OVER NOW!

FATHERS vs EXAMS

2010-11-23T23:02:00.004+08:00

Something I don't get about my dad. When I was young, he spent very little time at home. I mean, that wasn't his fault, but when you don't have a mom, not having a dad around might as well make you an orphan.

No, I don't mean that. I had many people around for me when I needed them, and having awesome people like them makes me really privileged, and not in the spoilt pampered way. Anyway, the point is that I hardly had a father around, and even when he retired he hardly stayed in one place (mostly because he didn't like it here), so he moved to china. Because of that I got used to him not being around.

But now and then he likes to come back to check up on me, like good fathers should. But since he was hardly around when I was growing up he hardly knows me, yet tries to act like he knows whats best for me. And when you're almost twenty and he still does it, its a little unnerving. Especially when I made it out fine without him around.

A trend I've noticed, is that he only stays for my exams. I mean, he drops by now and then to run errands, to pay his bills and settle whatever business affairs he still has, but he's really ever there for me during my week(s) of exams. And I don't understand why. Especially when my exam week is the week when I have the least time for him, even if he demands my attention. When I have my exams, I always have a plan of action in mind, and he's highly disruptive, which really stresses me out. In addition, he likes to annoy me about coming home late, even when I was in school studying?

Imagine this:

Father: What time did you reach home last night?
Me: Eh... 9?
Father: NO! I walked into your room at 9 and it was all dark. Where were were you last night?
Me: I was in school...and I DID come back at 9. I finished my exam at 7, ate dinner, and took a bus back.
Father: What, playing with your friends? (yes, he uses the word "playing")
Me: No. I was having my exam. Then I had dinner and came home.
Father: Oh.... *silence* So what time did your exam end today?
Me: 7pm.
Father: HUH? so late?
Me: Yes. Then I ate dinner until 8 and took a bus and reached home at 9. (getting annoyed)
Father: Oh.... *silence* so what time is your exam tomorrow.
Me: 5pm.
Father: Oh. So what time will it end?
Me: 7.
Father: So what time will you be back?
Me: 9. =.=

Yeah. Excruciating. Like I'll be out "playing" with my friends when I have exams going on. Thanks for the trust dad.

I used to think that I got annoyed because he had no trust in me. But its more like he has no common sense. Or he thinks I have no common sense and priority in life. "Don't play so many computer games, do your homework." "I'm not playing games, I need my laptop to do my work." "Oh."

Somehow the idea that my dad is around plus my exams are ongoing always makes my exams doubly stressful =.=

OH and today he said something strange. Today we were in the dining room, and I lay on the dining room table cause I was sleepy. And this was our conversation.

Father: why? very upset is it? (in chinese, he said 心里很難受).
Me: no, I'm just tired. Slept late last night.
Father: Hmm? Too much on your mind is it?
Me:...... NO. I was studying. For my exam today?
Father: Oh.

WHERE DID THAT COME FROM.

Sorry for the long rant, but alot of things do not compute. Gah. I should just sleep and forget about it. And ignore the jiggling of the doorknob by my father trying to get into my room to check if I'm at home. Yeah, you're the reason why I always lock my door at night, dad. The lights and aircon are on, try knocking?

"we all have those days"

2010-11-15T02:07:00.002+08:00

hehe. guess those days really know how to suck you dry. Honestly, I'm really sick of ups and downs that I get. It really sucks knowing that in some way you're just sick in the head and no one really gets that, even when you hope that they will. I do wish I was more mature, you know, and I wish that I am more able to handle things. I don't have socially-acceptable reasons and all that not to be as good as other people, in the end I'm just not. And maybe, the sooner I accept that the better.

All in all, I know I'm in a good place. I have family that love me, friends that appreciate me, and the goal that I've been working for is achieved. But I think I'm running out of goals. I don't seem to know what it is I'm going after, and without having that goal there just leaves this sense of emptiness. And I'm not the type to set little ones, you know? Like A for exams, or running 2.4 under 14 minutes, or be able to sing and play Melt My Heart To Stone on the Uke flawlessly (though I have been working on that hurhur its coming along swimmingly too). I set big goals that takes years to prep, like I've been planning to get into NUS since I was in Sec school, or to learn as many forms of artistic expression as possible, or to be a good mother.

Its depressing, when you think about your future and you see nothing. Some people say I have all the time in the world to figure it out, yet others are yelling in my ear saying things like I'm immature because I don't have that one vision. Well, I'm sorry that I don't. I don't know what I want out of life. But I know I'll figure it out. So stop fussing and let me take hold of the reins.

Now all I really hope for is that people start believing in me. Just because I may slip and fall now and then doesn't mean that I'm incompetent. It just means that I'll be slower. And I'm absolutely fine with that.

I am losing faith in many things, in love, in life, in endurance. When I see certain others, they look like time has taken the toll on them, like they've endured through alot and are ready to fall apart. I'd love to believe that I can endure. But truth is I'm so sheltered and so miniscule, I hardly look like I can withstand anything (no wonder people look down on me). Its not that I have no confidence, its just that I'm afraid. Everyone gets afraid sometimes. Maybe I should show it less often. Then people will think I'm tough (flexes biceps).

I'm like chicken little. But I should get used to that. Like you said, in the end, we're gonna be alone. Cut the dependence cheese and get to the solitude. Where's my insomnia pills?

nyehnyehiwin

2010-11-14T12:48:00.000+08:00

Spencer says: (12:37:43 PM)
why all one word replies
Spencer says: (12:37:44 PM)
you suck
Liang Hwei says: (12:46:18 PM)
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahidon'tsuckyoudoiamawesome
Spencer says: (12:46:52 PM)
neh
Spencer says: (12:46:55 PM)
you suck balls
Liang Hwei says: (12:47:15 PM)
hahahayousuckcockandballsisucklollipops
Spencer says: (12:47:46 PM)
pop your lollys you cherry head
Liang Hwei says: (12:48:01 PM)
popyourcherryyoudickhead

undervindication

2010-11-07T23:35:00.002+08:00

Thinking a lot makes my hair turn white. Maybe that's why I have so much.

I often think of the mistakes that I've made, and while I've said that I don't believe in having any regrets, there are some things done out of immaturity, incapability, and even inexperience. While having regretted doing some of the things I've done, I don't think I would have known how to do things any other way, considering the person I was and the way I thought. I would love to say that I'm sorry, and that those mistakes will never be repeated, and they won't. But I know that I will make new mistakes, because I am unable to foresee things that I have seen to see, and learn things I have yet to be exposed to. When you are faced with a new situation, as I was then, then you would do your best to deal with it. And as much as I'd hate to say that it wasn't good enough, it really wasn't.

So I'm sorry for my immaturity, my ignorance and my inexperience. I'm sorry that, as a person, I have a tendency of being caught up in my own world and my own beliefs that, time and time again, are discovered flawed and revised. I'd like to think that I am becoming a better person as time passes, but I am still painfully aware of my inability to understand many things. I promise that I will continue to try.

Be assured, at least, that I feel the brunt of my mistakes, and that it does eat away at me as time passes. I hope that it gives you, at the very least, some form of satisfaction.

no matter how much I file my nails they won't go straight

2010-11-07T01:07:00.004+08:00

Had just watched 10 things I hate about you on youtube. Watching disney cartoons have made me realize that there are a ton of wonderful movies available on Youtube (I blame Keith), and today it just occurred to me that I've heard about this movie, but I've never watched it. And since I have made it my goal to expose myself to as many things I've heard about but never watched/heard/seen, I went to watch it.

I really like Julia Stiles' character. I like how she's the unconvential teenage romantic comedy heroine. I mean, parts of the movie are super cliche or weird, but she's super likeable. Super cynical, smart (Sylvia Plaith ftw!) and a downright bitch. And though I seem to lean more towards her character's sister (gag), I'd like to be more like that. A bitch.

It'll be nice to be able to open your mouth and speak your mind to some guy whose face you don't like, or forget about the consequences and do the unconventional thing. Maybe that's what I need to get myself out of this hole I've put myself into. I mean, I can't feel comfortable only around you because I know you don't take my cynicism seriously. Why not just open my pie-hole (oh man I can't believe I typed piehole) and say some stupid things?

But at the end of the day, I know I won't. Because they are, like I said, stupid. Still its a nice idea to be free, and live out of sociological functionalist constraints, or even believe that it is possible (and that being a deviant doesn't count as contributing to society's make of life, when sadly it actually does).

I guess my extent of deviancy would be limited to living through Hollywood's 1999 attempt to create a money-making opportunity through an unexpected twist in a typical romantic comedy, that ends up more typical than unexpected. Apparently it is anchored in one of Shakespeare's plays too, which makes Shakespeare an accomplice, and therefore a bitch.

Boohoo.

disgusting

2010-11-03T09:12:00.002+08:00

I'm very tired of school.
Very very tired.
It feels as if my whole life is a mess and spiralling out of control, and when I have school I usually wish I could crawl into my bed and just stay there for the whole day. I love my friends but I'm tired of socializing, tired of comparisons, silences, noises, and the routine of it all.

Think I'll come home and nap after class.

2010-10-24T23:16:00.005+08:00

Hey you. Yes, YOU.
I have to say a few things to say about you.

I mean, who do you think you are, strolling into my life like this? What authority do you have, to just walk in with your pizazz and your flair, and make me fall head over heels in love with you? Do you think its fun, swooning over you every time I see you, every time I think about you? Do you think I enjoy laughing at all your funny jokes, and feeling the warmth in your arms? Is it funny, to take this small, fragile girl and build her up, to be there for her everytime she's down, to care for her more than any guy has, to know exactly what she needs every time she's upset? You think you're so smart, knowing how to push all my buttons, and make me smile even against my will?

Well, here's what I have for you, punk.

Yeah, that's right. Try swallowing this before you sleep at night.

fix me, dr (mart)

2010-10-17T09:00:00.005+08:00

I just HAD to try them on.

I just HAD to be curious about how they looked.
And now look what happened - I'm hooked.

I WANT PURPLE.

So screwed. So horribly screwed ):

fuckyeahdocmartens.tumblr.com

nyumnyum

2010-10-12T19:02:00.000+08:00

My super obsession. CUPCAKES PLEASE.

what I feel like, it feels like

2010-10-11T11:27:00.002+08:00

omg I forgot where all these photos came from.
Should be fuckyeahhappy.tumblr & cupcakesoftheday.tumblr

confusion says:

2010-10-10T23:18:00.002+08:00

Firm, holding air like strangling a child, feeling its tapping pulse on your painted fingertips.
Blue is bleeding into veins of oxygen, and suddenly you choke on yourself, releasing in shock and horror.
Time is not an essence, nor a tangible solution, rather a melting, steaming clock on our doorstep, sticky to the touch.
Running is elastic, and rubber-souled, you don't bother. Stock-still, statuesque, and stoned.
Potential is kept within the eyes, rubbing and tipping into sighs.

2010-10-07T10:45:00.002+08:00

He may be Cynical Bear, Obnoxious Bear, or Aloof Bear. But in the end, he is still Grumpy Bear):

for what it offers.

2010-10-03T14:00:00.002+08:00

Yes, I think its okay to feel like you're not good enough. After all, there are always people who are going to be above, and unknowingly shoving their talents into your face. They don't mean to, but its just because you're brainwashed into the idea of self-improvement, that we're all told that if you don't keep climbing you might as well fall.

You also have people who listen but don't really listen, and it takes a gazillion kicks in the balls to say "Hey, I'm hurting here. Do I have to cry to convince you?" But that just gives me a headache.

So I guess its okay to admit that you can't move as fast as others, that you're not as sociable or as funny. Its also okay to say sometimes you just can't cope, and that you operate differently. And I do. Operate differently. I just don't know what that 'different' is yet, because I have all these wants that can't be met because I'm not superwoman.

I hate this place. I hate the city, and how everything moves, and buildings move, and cars and people move and never ever slow down, never gives you any slack. People here don't notice when the day starts with a great sunrise, don't appreciate way a child first looks at you with recognition, and are even surprised when their parents tell them that they love them. They move without caring where they are going, they move without caring who's moving with them, they move and pull others with them.

Well I'm sick of moving, and I'm sick of being pressurized to move faster. I'm sick of this place with no culture because no one takes time to make one. I'm sick of the stupid tourism boards that shows the buildings, the ships, the money and the work, work, work. But never the people. Never the people who lose time trying to make time. Where getting a life means going elsewhere. Where a meaningful life means knowing that life is meaningless. Where stopping is only for the traffic lights.

I'm me. I know everyone's good at something. Me? I'm good at standing still.

diez

2010-09-30T23:35:00.003+08:00

Sometimes I thank god for Joycie. Strange as it sounds, she never fails to cheer me up. Especially the way she acts all distraught when I tell her she looks pretty. She kinda looks like this O.O

Anyway, I am so dead tired from my econs midterms (which I didn't do well for, I'd bet) and my MNO project (crosses fingers!) that I'm talking nonsense from my end of my nose. Even baby's tired and was already asleep. I guess school does that to us. How horrible.

Tomorrow is Children's Day and everyone's gonna dress up in their uniforms. Too bad I'm not gonna be there (kinda wish I could be :/) but I guess I'll settle with looking at photos and laughing. HALLOWEEN'S COMING ANYWAY and I've always wanted to be the evil SCGS girl but never had the guts to be. But if danielle's going as the IJ convent girl then I'm going all out. Now all I need is someone to suck money from hahaha.

Oh my god I'm talking complete nonsense because I'm zoned out.

But I should say this. Clar you silly bunny, I love you and I always will. Study hard and don't get stressed, I know law school is tough but the tough'll make you tougher and I know you're gonna be an awesome lawyer:) <3

I need to practice speaking good english or I'll lose my apparently very unique "accent". Hardyharharhar.

TUMBLRS.

2010-09-29T20:29:00.003+08:00

Tumblrs are awesome. Beautiful art, inspirational quotes, great music and all that jazz:D So here are some AWESOME SHIT.

http://fuckyeahhappy.tumblr.com/
This is the one that got me started! I mean, if you put all the stuff that made people happy, even if they themselves didn't realize that it would (like a super fat hippopotamus)? That's awesome.

http://cupcakesoftheday.tumblr.com/
BECAUSE I LOOOOOOOOOOOOVE CUPCAKES:D They have TONS OF PICTURES that people send in, and even recipes from time to time. My dream? To have a batch of personalized cupcakes, even if I have to make it myself!

http://fuckyeahtattoos.tumblr.com/
I think there's something beautiful and poignant about a tattoo. The thing that makes most people abhor the idea is the very thing that strikes me as amazing about it. Its about having your own say, and daring to set it in stone and live it with - well - forever. And at the end of the day, no matter what you earn or what you buy, the only thing you can own is your own body. This website gives beautiful and strange tattoos that people have had, and sometimes a beautiful story behind it:)

(Psst. I have something in mind to get, but I shan't say what it is!)

http://whytheyrehot.com/
(I know this isn't strictly a tumblr, but trust me, the webpage is on a tumblr format.) Oh come on, you know what this is for. Well written fandom commentaries on celebrity eyecandies. They even have one for JASON MRAZ. And damn, were they spot on.

http://lovegivesmehope.tumblr.com/
Because reading about how love gives others hope gives me hope. And sometimes, when I come across something wonderful, it can make me cry. Why? Because LGMH.

headdeskhug.

2010-09-28T00:18:00.004+08:00

This is me. Not being able to sleep.
This is not good. I need to get around this. I suck big time.

Baby, if you're reading this: I know I just saw you a few hours ago but I miss your voice like crazy! ):):):
I know, I'm doomed right?

ohmyGod.

2010-09-25T15:35:00.001+08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JJtCqFH1pU8

Time to separate what are questions and what are facts.

signs of growth or sour grapes?

2010-09-25T12:54:00.002+08:00

You know, once upon a time, I thought you were perfect. You were that person I could never be. You were gorgeous and beautiful, utterly charming and charismatic. Just weird enough in a way that was enough to distinct you from stencilled bimbos and emphasize your mysterious and poetic soul, yet not so weird to delineate you from your popular friends. Once upon a time, I was second best to you, picking upon from your castaways, the consolation prize for the guys who knew you were way out of their league and picked me instead. You were the caring soul that called me and said "you failed, he came to me first when he needed someone." I hated you, yet I wanted to be like you. For the longest time, I wanted to be you.

Now, you're absurd. Somehow I've grown to understand you a little better. The way you present yourself, the way you want people to see you. Its like you love the attention. Especially from other people who think you're perfect. You write little obscure phrases to show people how 'deep' you are. Then you strike a pose as if you're some bona fide sex kitten, or some celestial creature. Its like a mask, an iron-cast mask, over the truth that you're just like the rest of us - a flat-faced, chinese, Singaporean, teenage girl with a weird accent.

I'm telling you babe, there's nothing special about you. No matter how to purse your lips, or angle your face. In the end, you just wear more make up than the rest of us.

what happens when you take personality quizzes between studying.

2010-09-21T22:52:00.001+08:00

Your Stress Sources

"Wishes for freedom and independence, free from limitations and restrictions except for the ones she choices to give himself."

Your Restrained Characteristics

Giving more than she is getting back and feels misunderstood and unappreciated. Feels she is being forced into compromising and even her close relationships leave her feeling emotional distant.

Is feeling emotionally drained from stressful and tense situations. she is in need of peace and quiet in order to overcome her lack of energy and may become irritable if she does not recover.

Applies tough standards to her potential partner and demands an unrealistic perfection in her sex life.

Your Desired Objective

Seeks to be known for something she has accomplished and uses her social abilities to win people over. Emotional and sensitive and romantic.

Your Actual Problem

Longs the freedom to make her own decisions and plans without the criticism and restrictions of others. Uses her charm to deal with others and get what she wants.

Wow. thanks for telling me that I'm stressed.

and there was lovelovelove

2010-09-21T08:11:00.002+08:00

(two years ago: the JC girl and the army guy before he books in on sunday night)

Yesterday marked two years of happiness. I love you baby. Here's to many more:)

iquitelikethebeatles.tumblr

2010-09-13T08:18:00.002+08:00

[Heehee George looks cute in this one:)]

[I've never noticed how hot John was. Mmmm.]

para-shoot

2010-09-13T00:12:00.000+08:00

"so much for courage to call for help."

I know what I did last long weekend

2010-09-12T21:09:00.005+08:00

What an eventful weekend! So chockful of events I hardly cracked open a book. Even if I had the time, I don't think I bothered anyway :/

Steamboat at the Deck on Thursday! For those who don't know, the Deck is the Arts canteen, so you can imagine how funny we looked washing veggies and cutting meat in the middle of school:) But it was super fun and oh so yummy!! Went to get a new look on Friday, with dinner with monica at night! It was super nice to see her, I'm starting to feel strange knowing she's not in the same school as me anymore (she has been since kindergarten after all), but its nice to know she's doing great in SMU! Saturday was family day, with my uncle's big 70th birthday bash at night (black tie yo), and today was the blistering heat and this -

I'm sorry about the cheesy photo, but MY FIRST MEDAL EVER YEAHHHH. I always feel super envious when I go to my friends house and see their trophy and medal collections. WELL I CAN START ONE NOW YEAH:D Okay, so it was only 10km, and the people who ran 21km got the same medal as me but whatever.
PERSONAL BEST.
Even spencer's proud of me! :D though his exact words were "Wah, not dead yet ah?" Ah heck, I bet he's damn frickin proud of me inside;)

I must do it again. And wear suntan lotion next time. I still feel crispy. Like chips.

at the back of the room, humming a tune

2010-09-08T09:36:00.000+08:00

GAHHHHHHSAVEME

2010-09-06T08:32:00.001+08:00

Life is kind of blah lately. I think the sudden rush of pressure from school kind of sent me in a sort withdrawal, that I really need to recover from. I'm so not used to having things to do back to back to back (because I'm a super lazy kind of girl). Its brought back so many insecurities about myself, and anti-social feeling.

Well, I missed my peace and quiet, and yesterday I got a bit of that, eating macdonalds lunch with family at the new outlet that opened less than 5 minutes walk from my house! And after that just taking a nap. No studying, no nothing. Felt great.

But now its time to get back to work, set my life in order and pull myself together. So much stuff to do, and its only a month into school! O.o I guess its a good thing that I have such hardworking friends (and a very very hardworking boyfriend who literally puts me to shame): ) to keep me in check.

And thank god for friends because I had a great time at IFG last sat! FASS Dodgeball girls were CHAMPIONS. Despite our silly sing-and-dance routine, and screaming like poufy-head idiots everytime we won a game, we were actually awesome at dodgeball! The adrenaline rush when you hear our awesome supporters cheering for us "Go Arts Go, Go Arts Go" was just amazing. So this is what it feels like to be a winner.

so, how's school?

2010-09-02T18:12:00.001+08:00

Wow. I think I've been doing so much this week I never realized that my school week was over. I guess I've been so busy with all my work and catching up with my readings that time just flew by. Is this what uni life is going to do? Fly By?

I better find more interesting stuff to do with my life. And no, I don't mean CCA =.=

And this probably won't make sense to those who haven't known me for more than a year, but I'm actually on time with my work. Its miraculous, especially for Miss do-it-tomorrow-and-rush-deadlines, or I-forgot-to-bring-my-homework, or I-don't-want-to-do-my-lit-essay-she-won't-mark-it-anyway. Though only CJC lit students will understand that last point.
Suddenly I feel like I'm doing too much. Maybe I should slack a little...

... nahhh.

birthday bashing bah

2010-08-30T19:50:00.003+08:00

Its been quite a birthday. I'll blog about it, but probably later, because I'm quite tired and I have some work to do. But let me summarize first just in case I don't get around to it.

1. TYGORTAI gathering at Joshie's place which turned out to be a surprise party! There were so many hints everywhere, yet I didn't pick up on anything. I'm glad I didn't though! There was cake, a very well-made and awesome scrapbook, a well-wrapped present, a real present (a ton of them actually) and a lot of wonderful people whom I love dearly. It really sucks sometimes when I don't get to spend as much time as I want with them, but the surprise made me realize how we can still come together despite anything (and still remember each other's birthdays hahaha). Love you guys;)

2. The traditional Clar/Tanya/Carine/Ehui/Monica gathering, though Monica wasn't feeling well and couldn't come): nonetheless thank you EVERYONE for still being around after many many years. Its amazing how long its been.

3. FAMILY sweet simple and wonderful. Cake and pizza:)

4. I HAVE to add this in - THANK YOU MY DA JIE (big sis) REBECCA and JASPER FOR MY NEW UKULELE (seen above, and if not, on my fb). I have named her Kale'a, which is hawaiian for Joy, and I love her. Spent the entire day today, in fact, thinking about her, and now my fingers are super sore from playing so much these few days.

5. SPENCER whom I love and cherish, thank you for sticking by me in my nuttiest and most insane moments, and also putting up with my... well with me. I still can't find anyone I talk to like the way I can talk to you.

6. EVERYONE for your manymany birthday wishes, whether it was on fb, or messages, or even calling me (yes you Kenneth Koh)! I can't say this enough: Thank You!

Okay time for work.

its a buckethead day -

2010-08-27T09:21:00.002+08:00

- when you need rock n' roll to keep your heart from stopping and drown out the voices in your head.

2010-08-24T22:53:00.001+08:00

Sorry. Big Rent fan here. Too bad they stopped productions ):

photo-omigosh!

2010-08-22T07:56:00.003+08:00

Thanks You Guys! Though technically its not my birthday yet. Rightfully, part of this cake belongs to Monica, who wasn't feeling well yesterday! ): Hope you're better babe, we missed you today...

And HAVE A GOOD TRIP TANYA. We shall be iChatting soon, and you must come back and treat my future dogs and carine's worm farm for free.

Happy Birthday dearest Mon-mon;) There's really no one quite like you!

what time is spent on

2010-08-21T21:06:00.001+08:00

I'm so proud of this:)

ACHOOEY. stupid cold LTs

2010-08-17T10:12:00.002+08:00

How yummy is that! :D

Anyway, I've become a bit sniffly of late, hopefully I'll be able to last through a week of school! So exciting! Doing readings, checking out my lit books ;D And next week - TUTORIALS. Haha I think I'm mad. My head's going a little woozy from all the nose-blowing I've been doing.

Soci is especially cool though, perhaps its because its the first of my readings. But the perspective on society and our relationships to it is quite an eyeopener. Have we really been living our lives without considering how we contribute to our society as a whole, caught up with our own private problems that we don't realize how our actions or even feelings may translate to a bigger social movement (kinda reminds me of a TED seminar I watched on youtube)?

Can't wait to learn more!

optimism is the best drug

2010-08-14T23:19:00.003+08:00

oh gosh would time stop passing so fast?

I feel like I was built to work slowly, in a comfortable pace, instead of running after some idea of how things should be done. I especially like events that end up surprisingly fun, and I especially hate stupid admin screw-ups that waste my time and my patience. I also like lying in bed just talking to you, and being reminded over and over again how we're just two halves of the same whole.

I wonder if its appropriate for me to still be gushing over you. In five years time, we could be thriving together like a happy amoeba, yet in five years time we could also fall apart (because its hard to believe that happiness isn't fragile). For now though, I have no reason not to tell people how I'm happy. So happy.

Even in the world around me is like - ARGHHHHHHH.

Ah well. Things will work out.

500dayswithyou

2010-08-11T08:36:00.002+08:00

(fuckyeahjosephgordonlevitt)

crumpled and tossed

2010-08-09T09:18:00.004+08:00

When you're a teenager, seems like being alone is a sin, like wasting daylight, or unproductivity. When I had once enjoyed my solitude, I now feel conscious of life rushing past me, and while I feel like I could get left behind, I have no desire to join the rush.

Its hard for me to believe that if I just stood still, I wouldn't be forgotten. Time is not a friend to adjust to my needs, and nor is it a buffer to my fears of the world around me. Ultimately, its hard to bring together my own desires and this mad rat race of a life.

Soon, I'll be telling everyone that life just isn't my scene, that I'd love to be just a hermit, disappear off this terrible construction of a support system, and live off our happiness being with each other. Empty feelings can be put on the shelf, two-faced people you once trusted with your deepest secrets but couldn't give a fuck about you can go about their mundane lives, because I wouldn't care. I try not to, at least.

The only way I can explain this is that I am, simply, in a rut. In a hole, where holy idles don't visit.

darling you are the weapon I choose;

2010-08-08T08:33:00.004+08:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN GABBY:D

The O Week Endeavour

2010-08-07T08:35:00.002+08:00

TYCANS UNITE.

The feeling of finality has finally sunk in. Though in it self comparison is a filthy habit, I can't help but put it next to Arts Camp to compare, because it was my first experience at this camp (and differences are few). My feelings are mixed about it, and I shall explain why in a bit.

In some way, Arts Camp was more amazing, because it drowned us with this newfound feeling of belonging, of acceptance, and after five days it had seemed like we have known the people around us for five years, and suddenly became the best of friends. It would always be the first, and in that way retain its special place in my heart, as I know Oweek has in the Oweek freshies' hearts, and previous ArtsCamps/Oweeks in our seniors/laolaos.

Perhaps it was because I was given responsibility this time, the effort and the time invested into making sure this camp was as special to the other freshies as Arts Camp was for me, that made me tear after it had ended. Because after it had all ended, the change was astounding. And it was a change that you didn't realize grew as much as it did, that when the last day came, seemed amazing and almost miraculous. We've become a family.

I was afraid, when given my responsibility as AOGL, that I wouldn't be able to carry it out. Many a time before/during the camp I would be stressed out and worried. In truth, I'm not the counsellor type. I'm introverted, shy, and I follow rather than lead, and because of whatever inclinations I possessed, it was a struggle to be what I felt the OG needed. And because I know that there are many better and more capable people about me to fill the role I was meant to fill, I often felt that I had let my OG down.

But in the end, I realized that it didn't really matter what I did. Because what we are, in essence, is a group of people, coming together to play games for 7 days and make noise. But what we became in the process over 7 days, was a result of the value every person put into what was an ordinary group of people. Once shy, nervous, and expectant people, into the people who sulked generously when we missed out on best OG. The transformation is baffling, yet fulfilling. And as much as I did (or did not do), I'm glad that I was able to play a part in that transformation.

ARTS. TYCANS. TYGORTAI. And each and every individual.

apple-by products

2010-07-30T12:10:00.004+08:00

APPLE = FOOD TOO.

Oh yeah, and this blackberry cake does look pretty cool too. But not as yummy-looking :P Because we always buy electronics according to how delicious they look.

damnit I forgot which website they're from. Will update soon. I hope :/

ohwellos

2010-07-29T06:26:00.002+08:00

Last night was so warped. Hyped on clarinase, drugged (on natural aids) to sleep, and waking up 2 hours later to be caught in the twilight zone, awake yet surreal. SIGH.

Its strange that school is starting soon. I've been so excited for it to start, but now that it is, I'm actually quite nervous. There are so many different definitions for success, and so many ways to achieve the many things. And as much as people don't say it out loud, there are so many different types of pressures, from people I've just met to even my closest loved ones. The idea of a fresh start is always nerve-wrecking,
albeit inviting.

The strangest thing, is that of the many new people I've met, and even the people I've grown close to recently, many don't know much about what I used to be like, the person I was, the things I went through, or even what made me happy or sad. I may have become a better, more mature person in some ways (I hope), but its strange that these experiences that had in some way defined who I would be, or have become, is only fully known to myself. Its like in some far off place, away from civilisation, I had stood amongst trees and watched them fall, one by one, and walked away knowing I was the only one who saw them fall. Though some other person may one day walk past and see the fallen tree, the memory of the fallen tree is my own, and if I forget it one day, the falling tree ceases to exist.

Could any of this be characterized as a historical moment? That the nights spent awake and alone, or mistakes that you could never take back, or epiphanies of what was really important in life; did incredible things (because a change of heart is an incredible thing)? Yet these incredible moments could be forgotten in an instant, the day a friend did or said something you needed, the day you first felt fully confident of yourself, the day you knew you'd never truly be alone, the day you fell in love, all worn with age and time, then erased off existence.

Sorry, I guess I'm just being dramatic. But the thought of it, the idea alone is consuming. How much of life really exists out of our minds?

Moving on, O WEEK IS COMING. I'm actually quite excited, but nervous. I mean, a week of little sleep, super enthu RAH RAH RAH, but missing alot of family and spencer time.

Don't STRESS, LIANG. BREATHE.

joseph gordon levitt

2010-07-28T18:16:00.004+08:00

Yes, I watched Inception. But I won't go into that, because it takes too much intellectual jargon on my part, and too much argument and deliberation on your part (considering that you are who you think you are, dear reader, are you awake?). Instead, I have opted for the formal, structured register that only means that I am going to fawn over some 'hot young male specimen', and try to hide it under the most impersonal tone of the english language.

I'm kidding, Joseph Levitt is just nice eyecandy. But not like brad pitt, keanu reeves eyecandy. Maybe I just like to believe that he's his character from 500 days of summer, and that he would fall for a girl who listens to The Smiths, and appreciate Ringo Starr's contribution to the Beatles (HELLO OCTOPUS'S GARDEN?!). But Spencer does that already, so I guess I'm blessed :)

Nonetheless, I think those pictures of him below, which I found on flickr, are awesome stuff. The unconventional style, deviating from the usual "lets show the girls how hot this guy can be" is to die for. I'd kiss the photographer, if he weren't so obviously gay for Levitt too.

(This one's my favourite)

Oooh, did you know he was from 3rd Rock from the Sun? (He's the little one in red) And yes, I did watch it. Yes, its way before my time. But you can't help it when you have three older siblings and a cupboard full of cassette tapes.

And while we're gushing, lets add some Priscilla Ahn photos too, because she's awesome.

Remember, all photos from flickr!

dawning on one

2010-07-23T06:58:00.003+08:00

To sleep, to be far off without even realizing it, to lay oneself down, to forget one's own body, to enjoy the freedom of unconsciousness, that refuge by a forgotten lake stagnating amongst the leafy trees of vast, remote forests.
A nothing that only seems to breathe, a little death from which one wakes feeling fresh and revived, a yielding of the fibres of the soul, to fit the raiments of oblivion.
But, like the renewed cries of protest of an unconvinced listener, I hear again the sudden clamour of rain drenching the slowly brightening universe. I feel cold to my hypothetical bones, as if I were afraid. Crouching, desolate and human, all alone in the little dark that remains to me, I weep, yes, I weep for my solitude and for the life and for my pain that lies abandoned by the roadside of reality, amongst the dung, useless as a cart without wheels. I cry for everything, for the the loss of that lap I used to sit on, the death of the held out to me, the arms that could not hold me, the shoulder to weep on that was never there... And the day that finally breaks, the pain that dawns in me like the crude truth of day, everything that I dreamed, thought and forgot in me - all this, in an amalgam of shadows, fictions and remorse, is tumbled together in the wake of passing worlds and falls amongst the detritus of life like the skeleton of a bunch of grapes, eaten on the corner by the young lads who stole it.
Like the sound of a bell calling people to prayer, the noise of the human day grows suddenly louder, Indoors, like an explosion, I hear the sound of someone softly closing the first door to open onto the universe today.

The Book of Disquiet, Fernando Pessoa

every little thing you wanted, all the time

2010-07-16T23:17:00.003+08:00

There's an emptiness about without you here, and I'm screaming to fill the space that once had your voice. It seems I've grown too dependent on you, and without you about, I fall to pieces.

For that, I am sorry. I'll learn to be better, I promise:(

music.

2010-07-15T16:58:00.002+08:00

It feels as if you're seized.

The kind of silence that can fill a room, thick and suffocating. Yet, while its stifling you, its fragile, brittle, worse than glass, that could break apart at a pin point. There is breath taken, almost involuntarily. Then, it interrupts. They say it flows, but it actually cuts, sharply into your chest, and you can almost hear silence being ripped apart, strand by strand

amidst the shuffling and hushing. You feel the discomfort, its possible to say its driving you nuts, and its almost impossible to breath, overwhelming, overflowing out of the deep -

and almost instantly, you realize that its beautiful.
Its like butter melting in sunshine, warm and soothing. That thing in your chest, it disperses into your skin, your toes and your fingertips. A voice cries out, your voice, yet its inaudible amidst the music, a sigh lost in song. You are disembodied in your attention, drawn like a line, yet your soul scattered elsewhere, a victim to the ghost of harmony, flitting like breath in the wind.

grumpy bear does not approve.

2010-07-14T08:27:00.004+08:00

Sleep supposed to be nourishment for your soul right? Well these few nights, my sleep has been plagued with these unbelievably weird and bad dreams. But its not like one nightmare per night, but like a chain of them within 7 hours of sleep. And seriously, when you feel like you've actually lived through a few horrible stuff in a few hours, then wake up each time to find that all of them weren't true, I think you wouldn't be in the best mood either (neither would you have gotten enough REAL sleep).

What I'd like most now is to crawl back into bed and get the sleep I've missed. But I've got work now and kickboxing later. Hell if I know how I'm going to survive the day in front of some stupid computer jamming stupid info into a stupid spreadsheet.

Sorry, sleepy rant over. Need to get on a bus, like, now.

bourgeoisie happy feeling

2010-07-07T14:09:00.003+08:00

While writing this song I had to put the pencil down
And the chords became a silence that was deeper than a sound
The sun will rise again as time and time it does
And I will stand here looking at it exactly as I was
Knowing the only thing that I know
Only thing I know is
I don’t know a thing.

-Lucy Schwartz

randomnesses by the awesome mile

2010-07-06T17:57:00.001+08:00

» Mass hysteria

Mass hysteria is the sociopsychological phenomenon of the manifestation of the same or similar hysterical symptoms by more than one person. A common manifestation of mass hysteria occurs when a group of people believe they are suffering from a similar disease or ailment.

Mass hysteria typically begins when an individual becomes ill or hysterical during a period of stress. After this initial individual shows symptoms, others begin to manifest similar symptoms, typically nausea, muscle weakness, fits or headache.

The features of mass hysteria include no plausible cause found, ambiguous symptoms, rapid escalation of cases - often spread by line of sight - and rapid remission of symptoms. Demographically, cases are higher in females and those with greater use of medical services.

Sightings of religious miracles are often attributed to mass hysteria.

Examples of mass hysteria:

* Dancing mania occurred primarily in mainland Europe between the 14th and 18th centuries; it involved groups of people, sometimes thousands at a time, who danced uncontrollably and bizarrely. Men, women, and children would dance through the streets of towns or cities, sometimes foaming at the mouth until they collapsed from fatigue.
*

“Dennō Senshi Porygon” (a Pokémon episode) aired in Japan on December 16, 1997 at 6:30 PM Japan standard time.

Twenty minutes into the episode, there is a scene in which Pikachu stops some vaccine missiles with its Thunderbolt attack, resulting in a huge explosion that flashes red and blue lights.

At this point, viewers started to complain of blurred vision, headaches, dizziness and nausea. Some experienced seizures, blindness, convulsions and loss of consciousness. Japan’s Fire Defense Agency reported that a total of 685 viewers, 310 boys and 375 girls, were taken to hospitals by ambulances.
Later studies showed that 5-10% of the viewers had mild symptoms that did not need hospital treatment. 12,000 children who did not get sent to hospital by ambulance reported mild symptoms of illness.

slipping away.

2010-07-02T18:08:00.000+08:00

Stellar Memory [LIVE] - Someone Like You from FPS.com.sg on Vimeo.

LOVELOVE.

Miss you josh! Have fun at uni!

commencement

2010-07-01T18:08:00.002+08:00

There was once a faint smell in this place, this hole, this bed. Of a place not measured by the wind that flew through its windows, or the people who walked through its doors. Its shadows were its arms, creeping through the nights as people slept, and lovers dove into pools of ecstasy and sin. Daylight, a misnomer, purple in its many recycled sheets across the floor. This place, I tell you, had its mysteries and forms, of a child who grew into an orphan, of hearts broken into hearts, and words you can never ever take back. Chandeliers once grand, now tacky and obsolete in the world where children went out of doors and never wanted to return -

but couldn't help themselves.

I tell you, this place is more than a place. This bed more than a bed. This floor more than a floor.

missing you

2010-06-28T22:09:00.000+08:00

what does texay mean anyway?

2010-06-28T18:48:00.003+08:00

Hahaha I feel obligated to write about Arts Camp, you know, because it was awesome. But I really have no idea what to write. And even if I try the "a picture speaks a thousand words" and plonk some pictures here, I don't think it really full emphasizes what it was. It may even look weird (especially with the pictures I chose hahaha).

But here are some just to try.

Yep. Somehow I think I've been stuck in CJC for so long that I kinda forget that there is a whole different world out there. Meeting new people is always a ton of fun, though I have to admit the day before I was damn lazy (throwing shirts into my bag and complaining to my sis that I'm gonna get zero sleep, which wasn't false) but after you get into it camp is LIKE AN ADDICTION.

I actually feel like a real NUS student now. Like going away for five days actually made me feel like I belonged there, and that kind of experience is hard to come by. I miss my fellow campers):

I'm glad I'm back though. I missed my man like crazy (I almost slipped and said snugglebot). But he didn't miss me lorh. He even said that the week I was away time passed by damn fast >:O

THIS IS YOUR BANANA- NANANANANA

BOMB WHOOSH PAH.

2010-06-19T20:43:00.002+08:00

I used to think that life worked in patterns. Things that happen can be calculated. Like probability of events happening, according to what the person is most likely to do, and subsequently the chances of anything else happening that could affect that probability. Existing randomness can't be accurately random, especially when it involves human beings.

I know this is hopelessly nerdy and mathematical, so please just shut one eye, take a pinch of salt and bear with me here. Basically I thought that the more you practice at life, the more you would understand it. Like math problems. You practice until you get it. Puzzle solved. But the more I study life, the more it baffles me, and the more confused I am about WHAT I AM, and WHAT I WANT TO DO.

I used to have dreams. Dreams are wonderful things, they lift you up, they keep your hopes high up there, and they make you brave. You'd dare to do anything that gets you there. Even the damn movies make it look straight forward, like opportunities fall from the sky. Truth is, some dreams fall away, and you can't get it back.

For example. I used to dream of performing. I used to be fearless, belting out fucking solos left and right. I wanted to dance and sing and act, to be on broadway, to be in Les Miserables being the misunderstood Eponine in her one solo, to step out and just transform into an entity that's worlds apart from your own, to get off the stage with stars in your eyes and sweat on your brow, and the audience still dizzy with excitement.

Nowadays I wonder what happened to that dream. Along the way reality crashed into me, the brilliant stage of operettas and broadways diminished into a tacky school production, and a girl shouting like she could sing. After a few years, I've decided I'm tired of trying to sound like another Salonga. I was never close anyway. Choir - it was never really my thing. I've accepted that I'm not meant to be on stage, I may like to perform, but I'm not a performer, I'm just not that kind of a person. And I rather not change who I am to suit one dream. What's the point?

Conscious or not, I've given up on a few things. Things that I thought or I let define me. Yet, I'm the happiest I've been in a while because I know that I'm not sure what I'm going to do, and I'm okay with that. And that is confusing. I'm worried, yeah. But I'm not bothered. I think.

I've taken stock. I'm an eighteen year old girl, painfully shy, emotionally unstable, frighteningly inept, consciously awkward. And, I think too much (hahahahaha). Its not ideal, but I can deal with that. I'm lucky to have friends who love me for what strange concoction I am, and family who are proud of what I've accomplished (which surprises me to this day). I know who and what are important in my life, and anything else can come as they please.

I should put something here about how Disney movies about "Dreams do come true" are so damn misleading, but whatever. You'll figure that part out yourself.

heeheeheegrundy

2010-06-19T11:47:00.002+08:00

What stomach problem do hipsters get a lot?

INDIEgestion.

[thatsnotpunny.tumblr]

muahahahaha

2010-06-18T15:49:00.000+08:00

fuckyeahhappy.tumbr

2010-06-18T15:39:00.001+08:00

(their Smiths is our KOC!)