I wish things had never changed. I wish my life was still about love, emotions, dreams...

Someone told me recently that it was cool how I wrote "i want to be a poet some day. i want to make you smile". I'm not so sure about how cool that was, but it's been two years already, and the me back then has been fading away ever since. Sometimes I look back and see myself as being too naive and silly and all. And I tell my close friends how I feel more carefree now, not tied up in the mix of feelings or anything. However times like now, I feel a weird pang of jealousy about that girl in my past; it is she who seems to be the more carefree one...

After three whole hours of tossing and turning, I've decided to get up. No point lying there hoping that insomnia will leave me alone.

The clock on my laptop says 3.07am.

I finished some leftover wontons just now, they were great, as usual. I wonder if he ever misses her cooking? Or her? I've been told by many people that this is none of my business, and even if it is, there is nothing I can do to help. But it is not too late yet, I always tell myself. The papers have yet to be signed, certain pages are still free of those dreaded stamps. It can't be all just over, right?

However even as all these thoughts run through my mind, I still sit here, passively.

I can hear voices coming from the lounge room, and a faint glow of light seeps through the crack between my bedroom door and carpet. I know she is still awake, but I do not walk over to lend her my shoulder, my ears, or my heart. The wireless internet is working fine, firefox is also up and running. An email to the old man is just a few clicks away, but the letter remains unwritten.

I'm living life without a speck of assertiveness at the moment, it's shameful. But with all these things changing around me, I've come to realise that my direction in life has changed too. Gone are the days when I used to be so inquisitive about all things around me, about life, emotions, language, people. Gone are the days when all sorts of emotions filled me up in abundance, giving me inspiration to draw, paint, write. Gone are the days of ambition, of the sense of achievement, it's all gone...

Now?

Now I just wish for an easy life. A life where everyday is a happy, simple day. Where you do not have to guess, where things are laid out for you. I used to be very sensitive to words, and once in a while someone would say something that would hurt me deeply, whether they were intentional or not. However now I just let it all pass. So many questions in my past have yet to be answered, but now, do I really wish to seek for their answers? Deep down, I probably do. But seeing as I just want to live an easy life, I am going to try and leave it all behind me.

Perhaps this is just another phase of mine, who knows?

I am hoping for the time before uni starts to pass quickly. I'm all too ready to immerse myself in third year material and have my mind occupied with all sorts of path/etc knowledge. It will be like a baby breathing fresh air for the first time. I can imagine it to be so.

A new semester.

A new direction in life.

Gonna love it yups~~

:)

I've developed this habit of waking up in the middle of the night, and no matter how hard I try I just can't get back to sleep. Too many thoughts running through my head, too many weird feelings of uncertainty and the like. I guess we all have our times, huh?

This time, at 4.30am in the morning I am woken up by god knows how many mozzies deciding to munch away on an early breakfast. Such a selfish lot, hmph*

It was Alarick who made me realise I was feeling down yesterday. Not feeling any better today, but at least I now know why.


Sweet. bitter. sweet. bitter. sweet.

It's like those childhood games you used to play, plucking at the poor daisy until only the last petal remained.

Bitter.

And it always turned out wrong. Thing is, you never get a second chance else that would be cheating. Cheating nature, cheating fate. But sometimes you just can't help running the if only's throughout your mind.

If only I picked a different daisy. If only I started on a different note.

If only I didn't try at all...




You tell me I never ask. You say it won't matter, since I won't ask again. I don't know what you are referring to, but when I hear that I can't help but remember that day I did ask, that day when tears could not run only because I was drowning in an ocean already formed. You will never know how much I do wish to ask again, even if this is not what you meant.

But that would be called cheating.

The old man is coming to perth in less than a month's time. To say I don't think or feel anything of it is a complete lie. I've got butterflies all over and they're going crazy in my tummy. I don't want to see the wrinkles and white hair that have been added to his features this past year, for pity is not a charity. I don't want know whether a renewed sparkle glints in his eyes or if the loneliness still lingers there either. I'm not ready for hatred's plaster to be set, yet.

At least he's only visiting for a few days.
At least he's not staying with us.

Nonetheless I still predict chaos, hurt, anger (and all the synonyms to follow) to be raging back at home for many months to come as a result.

Meh. Why can't he just leave us alone...

"This is my mum... my beaauuutiful mum"

"Smiles :) "

"Lucy cutting the cake"

"yummilicious mudcake :)"

"and again.. "

"Finished!"

"Yum yum yuM yUM.. mum's fried wontons mmmmm..."

"Sequences, pins, beads, and polysterene balls"

"Dear Lucy.."

"Blowing up balloons at 6am... but it was worth it :)"

"Get ready to scream!"

"It was the best birthday party ever!"

There are things I shouldn’t be thinking about, memories I should just leave behind. But how I wish they were meant for me, really. Not just those but the other one too, and more; I still swirl them all into that palette of songs resounding within me. And for some reason, our promise still brings me tears.

the following four days may very well be the longest of my life. just want to get out of here. fast.

i know he is trying his best to capture back that essence in our relationship, and i know even more that he does not deserve to be put through all this by me. but whilst he is trying to show his love by spending time shopping with me, buying me more than i could wish for, trying to get a conversation out of me during dinner however stilted, washing the dishes without a word after a long day's work whilst i eat my five minute meal and rush back to the haven that is my study - i just feel that everything is turning out more horrible, more empty than ever before.

because he is a stranger to me now. a stranger who's every word and glance makes me churn within, makes me want to put up a glass pane between us, paint it with a hundred coats of thick black paint and buff it up with the sahara in between each glass molecule.

yesterday was the most heart wrenching shopping experience yet. whenever i stopped to look at an item on display, he would walk over eagerly and ask whether i wanted it or not. but every single time those words came out, no matter if it was something i did secretly really want, i would brush him off coldly and walk as fast as possible to anything on the opposite side of the store.

it's harsh. it's mean. but not harsh or mean enough to suppress those tears within me whenever i think of what has been and then look at him now. no, i dare not even look at those aging lines groaning with years of stress, those blood shot eyes yearning for rest yes, but mostly for even a minute of time together without worries nor troubles nor anything but pure love.

you don't love us at all! it is your work that you live for. work work work! that's all you know, all you care about! don't try to convince me otherwise!

you think all i care about is.. work? you think i.. get up everyday because.. of.. work? it means nothing! nothing to me. i publish a journal one day.... okay. i get a grant another day. okay. it means nothing!

that conversation, if you could call it such, keeps running through my head time and time again. etched onto my mind so clearly that i can even smell his alcholic breath and taste the salty tears flowing down my face, it haunts me day and night. i want to shake it out of my system. i don't want to have a reason to question an easy conclusion. i just want to disappear from this place forevermore and not think about the supposed fact that there is still someone here who loves me and hopes for me to visit him once in a while.

no. i don't want to see this place ever again.

dad, why did you have to go?

So this is Christmas
And what have you done?
Another year over
And a new one just begun

And so this is Christmas
I hope you had fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young.

Had another six hour break today. Didn’t feel like doing anything.

Guess sometimes it is just not meant to be, or is it? Who knows. There are things you treasure, not willing to lose. But if you take that risk, will history repeat itself? Will there be regrets?

Yeah, I’ve been thinking too much lately. Trying to wring your way around logically allows the feelings within to fade into the background. But I forgot. Forgot how a thing like this is never logical: Love, the attraction that Newton left out.

The beautiful day closed with a fun half hour shared with mosquitoes on a darkening street without lamps. You'd think one would save time with a satellite controlled map embedded in the dashboard but no, quite the opposite, really. Sigh...

I'm at alan's place at the moment - his grandma came to perth for a holiday not long ago and wanted to cook for me as she hasn't seen me for over eight years. They're a nice family, always looking out for me and my sister either in perth or when we're on holidays back in hk. However, all I really want to do now is just go home. *mutters for alan to finish dinner so he can send me home*

There's the lab tomorrow to prepare for, today's lab to go through, and a week of lectures to revise. Work work work. Welcome to the sad life of a medical student who doesn't know what the heck is happening in her world of dreams meshed with reality.

Strange things are happening. Perhaps it is best to leave them be.

My arms are aching from carrying so many groceries along the dewson-kanimbla stretch. I could’ve caught a bus, but chose to walk instead. I’m tired. Tired of the unknown, of not understanding. I’m tired of being outwardly nonchalant, of smiling when you don’t know why. Physically, mentally, and emotionally drained.

Things have been great, I should have nothing to be complaining about. A day in university is comparitively more interesting than a whole week in upper school. More fun. More to look forward to.

Then comes night, when everything seems so right, little things, perhaps considered insignificant by some, yet the distance that lies between these dreams and reality is staggering.

I just wish for understanding; to understand. To know how, why –

But I am rooted in square one, and lack the courage to soar.

A still life painted in the setting rays of a Satsuma blood orange. Beautiful, glorious, but merely an artist’s interpretation on canvas.

What do you see in the painting?

Do the rays pierce through your eyes, windows to your soul? Do they search for your heart where upon entering, tear through to the vacuum on the other side, across the teary waters, its last glowing embers trailing away from the horizon?

Fly me away, my winged silver horse,
Gallop us o’er the clouds.
Scarper from chains of empty discourse,
To a land without mist or shrouds.

http://wasabiicecream-scribbles.blogspot.com/

As I was walking home down the lane, I saw an old man sweeping away fallen leaves from his garage. Instead of sweeping them into boxes or bags, he displaced them all the way across the opposite side of the lane, into his neighbour’s garage! Not a very nice thing to do, yet I somehow found that old man quite funny. Strange.

It’s raining hard outside. Heavy droplets of water tear itself from the leaves outside my window, rushing to meet the ground of bricks below. I want there to be moss, some mushrooms, a fairy ring…

The rain is a maker of moods. Sometimes it calms you down, or it can cry the tears that have ceased running down your cheeks. Sometimes you just want to be out there in the rain with the buds and grass and great oak trees, to share the joy of life that it brings.

Today, the rain is making me thirsty. Very thirsty. Two empty mugs lie side by side on my desk from the night before. Wait, also a drink bottle. However laziness is stopping me from taking the mugs and bottle downstairs to rinse. Or fill another cup of water. Or study for tomorrows’s exam.

I should be stressed, and probably am. But I’m too lazy to care.

Heck, I just want the exams to be over and done with. Although I’m not sure how great the holidays will be, I just want to rid myself of this semester. A semester of procrastination and guilt. For those yet to try learning a topic for the first time, less than twelve hours before the exam: Do not try it. bad. bad. bad. Totally bad.

If I fail this upcoming exam, it is well deserved.

But I don’t want to fail…

I laid on my bed this morning wondering whether I was dreaming. Wouldn’t it have been so silly if I was, if it was all merely a figment of my imagination?

But I’m smiling inside so it couldn’t have been, and yes, they were the longest hours of my life yet! Please don’t let me go through that again, I might just die.

A tear drop dried by pride from within
Appears on skin a smile,
But inside she’s pouring a heart wrenching storm
Palpitations hushed proven futile.

I’m living right within a society that is too blasé for my liking, but I count myself lucky as there is such a beautiful thing called love. Some people so very sure of themselves underestimate feminine intuition. However mine has always been finely tuned, proving itself true once again. It has shown that love is something which still exists in this world, something far more powerful and daunting than what I had previously expected. This is why it is still okay to put a smile on your face each morning and enjoy whatever life gives you, yeah?

I didn’t end up going to church today. Ran a fever and got busted for that, great huh? It’s 4:30pm now yet I haven’t even started my fmc essay, supposed to go out for dinner with some family friends tonight, wonder if I’ll be able to skip it? It’s meng’s 20^th birthday today, I agreed last night to go for dinner provided pui mun also came along. However regardless of whether she goes or not, I won’t be able to make it because firstly I’m sick and secondly, that essay is still waiting to be written. I should start breaking my habit of agreeing to things asked of me, and then thinking it through later on.

Alarick tells me time will solve all problems. However this is breaching the second law of thermodynamics, as well as murphy’s law; as long as there is time, there will always be a possibility of change, of things turning out more chaotic than anticipated.

People often talk about finding “the one”, but how will you ever know he or she was “the one” until the day you are leaving this world? And what is love anyway? Is it merely a game of chance where regardless of how the person changes, even if the person you fell for initially has become such a different person now, you still love them?

Actually that doesn’t define love, only how love can extend across time without fading away. Oh well, I had better end this post and embark on a waffling spree for fmc. So much so for a blogging hiatus before exams.

If you pass by this blog, do not read between the lines. You will only get hurt and I will not be able to be there by your side. Some things will never change, but the way they appear may. Be merely guided by appearance, not a vain search for what is within. It was never meant to be revealed.

took down the washing today. it smelt of sunshine. that’s only second best to the smell of a baby's jumper. my fcb notes look uber cool, and i’m eating/drinking milo. yups, she is certainly in a good mood. give her a smile yeah? hold on tight, don’t let it fade away. basking in the joy of randomness once more, it’s great. i’ve got an 80% chance of failing tomorrow’s test. that’s awesome too; means i don’t have to worry about it at all. just studying the topic for exams, making pretty notes, listening to that song again. di yi ci. old, i know. but such a great song, eh? “strike out for me lance me / lay me down not bleeding”. inspiration reincarnated into words, woven by j hall. i want to be a poet some day. i want to make you smile.

Took more than half an hour to walk from the underpass back home today, whereas usually it would have taken five to ten minutes or so. It was interesting to note how when you start walking slower and slower with each step, there comes a time when you just want to plop down on the pathway, just lie there and watch the clouds pass by, and with each deep breath expel whatever that’s troubling you…

This morning after the physiology lab I went to the biosciences library and studied. It is certainly a bad idea sitting next to the window in an unfamiliar environment trying to study, as you just end up becoming all dizzy from tree-swaying-watching and listening to the same song over and over again. However I did end up studying quite a bit, though what I wrote in my dead tree journal there far surpassed the measly one page of notes I took from guyton and hall.

That said, lately I have spent way too much time dwelling on insignificance. It is now time for a reality check, and a thorough one too. adieu.

Had my very first university exam this afternoon, or rather, a mock exam. It was basically a repetition of questions being pulled out from past papers by an old lecturer who somehow reminds me of mr sutton, and for others, the pope. Turned out we were all stressing ourselves over nothing yet again.

Today I talked with a friend about what she termed “that other side of life”. I can understand the uncertainties she may be feeling, and the so-called risk she’s taking. It should be okay for her though especially since her special someone has openly reciprocated his feelings for her all this while. Hope everything works out between the two. :)

I’m not much of a risk taker when it comes to this particular side of life. I tend to be the rooted one on the beach, watching the night sky, not wishing to bring my gaze back down to reality for fear the fulgurite a mere mirage...

He came into my dreams this morning with sunshine dancing in his eyes. It was a strange dream, perhaps brought to me by a certain song I had been listening to as I fell asleep last night.

Like the splendor of lightning
You captivate the watcher of Night

This evening however, he left with reality’s stark contrast chiding at my foolish hopes.

A lone tree on the beaches
Crushed and singed, O such a throbbing sight

How bright was the flash, though fleeting it may have been? Enough to sear the sand that covers the gnarled roots of my dream? I think not, however, but we shall see.

I was just about to write a post begging to be laid down in words, when lys messaged me. I’ve seen him sign onto msn every now and then, and his nickname has always troubled me. However talking to him now has left me even more worried…

He said he was hit in the eye by an empty rifle shell, and is now out because of half blindness. Sighies, I feel so helpless. All I can do is pray for him.

This past week has been so strange to me. At certain times in the day I would feel so heavy, so pressing that it is almost an effort just to breathe. A feeling I’ve become accustomed to, yet it seems so foreign because this time I don’t know why I’m feeling this way.

There are so many assessments due in, as well as a med chem mock exam next Tuesday. Though I know I should be studying, it is hard to tear away from these feelings. For some reason, I believe insomnia has caused it all to appear blown up beyond reality’s scale. However it is just like a vicious cycle, with the mute siren on cold wet asphalt jangling in the background…

I’m looking forward to a better week ahead, that’s for sure.

A certain image,
A certain feeling,
A certain night.

They keep flashing back at me, with such sharpness and precision it is almost ironic if contrasted with that atrocious memory of mine when it comes to class locations.

I remember how the wall between us felt so cold and stubborn as I leaned against it that night, thinking of the way you curled up sound asleep on the other side. It is still there, the now-wall of unspoken words, of hidden feelings.

However my only fear is not of the wall, but of deja vu. I fear that if I were to venture past the wall I will see once more an empty bed and the crumpled sheets tossed aside, surprisingly still warm.

A few minutes too late, two hours too early.

From this week forth I will be riding on a highway of books and lecture slides. Study, is what they call it. Time has been flying by. A linear path seemingly ignorant of one’s boredom or exhilaration, it leaves no room for regret – only pressure.

Pressure from society’s callings, from your life goals. From friends and family, perhaps even a foe. This pressure to keep going is driven by time, and as long as you are here you cannot escape from its grasp.

It begins with the fluttering of summer drizzle across your cheeks, felt yet ignored by most. Then it pours down in buckets, symphonized with a flash here and there, kept in beat with a rumbling sky. The earth gulps these blessings down in thirst quenching splendor, and trees sway in the storm like a patriot’s flag.

However, I like to stay dry. Kept enclosed by four walls, I watch passively through the translucent pane at its ferocity...

She does not realize she needs it to travel the next step, that it already flows abundantly throughout her body. She does not realize hiding from it is in vain, for right beside her sits a cup of the outside world. She does not realize…

Nature is written in time. And just as we are an intricate part of nature, so are we entwined with the moving shadows of the dial.

She once knew a boy who intrigued her so very deeply, and he still does.

Three years of diary pages have been scrawled over with his name, and more than three years of mind wanderings have led her thoughts towards him – his dragging walk, aloofness, stubbornness, cynicism, humour, cleverness, those beautiful smiling eyes…

Although the times they have spent together never failed to make her feel extraordinarily close to the boy, he still remains forever an enigma. So too, does her feelings for him. Sometimes she finds herself annoyed with him without ever knowing the reason behind this frustration. Rarely does she find herself even bothering to ask why.

However a question coming from a drunken friend last night sparked a longing within her to unravel this puzzle. What’s going on between the two of you? What’s with this love-hate relationship? he asked.

She sat for a whole night pondering on this remark as she watched the flames lick across the wooden logs. She sat there until the last of the glowing embers were smothered by darkness and the warmth of the fireplace receded into the surroundings. Stepping outside onto the balcony she gazed across the waters trying to find the answer, but was only met with blast after blast of cold air.

The thoughts running through her mind that night were too fleeting to be sieved. Perhaps, just perhaps, her sporadic frustrations are merely a form of denial on her behalf.

Don't you just want to *huggle* the boy? sighies...

At michael’s birthday party tonight I met another old friend from hollywood primary, joanna gould. I’m so glad not all people change; she still seems so down to earth, so friendly. It appears nine of the girls in my primary school class ended up at mlc. How nice it must be, to have passed your childhood days with familiar faces, to hold in your heart the precious memories you shared with them, and to carry them all the way through high school.

I never got the chance; instead I went to three other schools after I left hollywood primary. However I certainly do not regret this, for I've met so many great friends along the way. Furthermore, I have come to realise memories will be kept regardless of whether paths will cross once more.

Memories are a beautiful thing, aren’t they?

This evening, everywhere I turned there would be couples in each others’ arms – on the sofa(s), behind the bar, outside in the open air. For some reason it brought back memories of lys, though it was certainly in a different way to things going on tonight.

I remember how gerald was such a kind person, always thinking of other people instead of himself; never wanting trouble to come my way, understanding the importance of my parents and their trust in me. As he once wrote, it was “a battle I will refuse to win even if I can”.

I remember the bell tower, the park outside southlands, the brick wall outside the basketball stadium, the songs, chinese school breaks…

He liked to talk a lot too. I remember being on the phone ‘till the following morning, day after day. Although he had a great sense of humour, just listening to his voice never failed to make me smile...

Those, along with many other memories, will always lie within me. I once tried to hide from them but instead they became all the more painful. Now, I have come to understand that no matter how beautiful they were, these memories belong to the past. This evening, as they came into my mind once more, it was not entwined with longing or numbness. Instead I felt serenity.

For this I am grateful to God, for I know it is Him who has been constantly by my side, guiding me through it all. To know that someone who loves you is always watching over you, ‘tis a precious gift indeed.

Dad came back to perth today; he’ll be staying here for just under a week before he goes off to another conference in Italy. Mum and Lucy went to pick him up from the airport early in the morning, leaving me at home for the first time this semester without someone to wake me up. It’s sad, I know. My mobile alarm clock stopped “working” after a mere week or so, and my biological alarm clock has basically been non-existent since TEE came to a close.

So, what were the consequences?

Well I woke up hazily and reached for my phone. 9:36am, it said. I was like, what??!!!

Literally jumping off my bed, I grabbed whatever was nearest to me (turned out to be yesterday’s shopping clothes o.0), grabbed my bag and a lunch box (my darling mum prepared it for me the night before) and ran to uni with my housemate who was also late for her class. However note that she was almost late to her first class, whereas I barely made it to my second.

This cannot continue. It has been what, five or six weeks into uni, and I’m still on holiday-mode. Seriously need to get a grip when it comes to this and yes, that too.

Like sand slipping through my fingers, you have drifted far away into the breeze. I would dearly love to find each piece of you and place them gently back on my palms but the winds continue to howl day after day, throughout the endless nights.

This evening they raged past, they stole. Only then did I realise the sand was just a figment of my imagination; nothing tangible had left me, merely hope. When I woke up, I found myself in circles on the vast expanse of ocean where the only way to reach sand was down.

I am drifting further away from the shores, and the depth of the chilled waters are becoming alarming. I wonder, if I plunged down one day, would the ocean floor rise to meet me before it beomes too late? I think not…

I know the world is filled with sand, sand eroded from great gorges all the way to dried silt from a small stream. However, that which has been blown away from me was special. one of a kind. unique.

Recently, I’ve come across the softest sand yet, but it has only made me more certain that … I miss you……

And even though you did not say you’ll miss me as I head off to rural week in a month’s time unlike him, and even though you do not care whether I get back in one piece or not unlike him,

It is still you I miss.

I’ve been writing and re-writing the first sentence of my FAHB essay for an hour now, and am up to my second sentence. However my mind isn’t on the introductory paragraph. Instead, I keep thinking about what I will be writing for the general laws of life section. I have a few vague sketches of comparisions between doors and factory manufacture lines, but that is all…

On a different note, I’ve met someone who can make a girl feel so very special. Is that supposed to be a good thing?

“u know Zoe, you are one of the deepest ppl I have met, some times you are one big question mark to me, forever an enigma…”

Andrew said that to me on msn last night, and I wondered. Wondered whether I’ve become too closed in for my own good. Admittedly no one has called me an extrovert, and I don’t see myself as such either. However, when a close friend of yours says the above to you, one cannot help but feel something is wrong. Then again, how many people do I know so well as to not find them mysterious?

To tell you the truth though, I’m no more a mystery than the odd prickle on a school oval: Most people would not realize its presence, others would purposely wear shoes to avoid contact with it. Two or three may be curious as to what stung them and try to find it amongst the grassy roots, only to chuck it away out of disinterest. However, there will always be the curious one who will watch it and wonder, and one day will unravel the spiral layer of green spikes to reveal the vunerable seed pods within.

To date, I have yet to meet a second person who knows about this simple secret of the prickle. Is it a mystery? I think not. It’s merely something few have bothered enough about to wonder what is within it, something most people lack the curiosity to unravel.

Just like me. What am I? I’m simply a girl who is a hopeless romantic, but is too scared to be one. That is all.

The more I see the girl, the more I want to shake her back into the world of reality. If you are ever able to gaze into her eyes, you will see a sense of loss, one that deepens when a particular image appears in her mind of the night before. However, I want to yell out to her. Tell her that she should be annoyed. She tells me she is, but at her own stupidity. To that I had no reply.

I wonder how else I can get through to the girl; she seems to neither hear me nor feel my presence whenever I try to reach out to her. Perhaps she knows, but just does not wish to take my hand…

Sometimes she just sits at her desk, textbooks spread out open upon the table, lamp still glowing as the world outside grows dimmer. I catch her smiling to herself once in a while, but that is rare.

I want to tell her to take a good look at everything around her; the vastness of the clear blue sky holding much possibility, those pretty flowers stretching out their stems to feel the warmth of the sun on their delicate petals. I want her to go outside and inhale the fresh crispness of early morning, and smile when she sees the beauty of the world God has bestowed upon her.

She does not listen.

msn is one of the strangest places. words appearing amidst the phosphorous glow sometimes bring illusions, illusions which only begin to dissipate once you take that leap of false intuition. a leap too soon, too late.

then you are left only with the smirks of reality, which haunt your mind as you lie awake, sleepless for yet another night.

you will never unlock these words as my fingers dart across the keyboard, for I will keep the key clasped tightly within my palms.

there was once a time you slackened the grasp, amazed at how its silvery spark pranced amongst the moonlit night. it made you smile, didn’t it?

but now, oh how it pierces your eyes with a truth far hurting than the great greek legend. It was illusion. Just an illusion…

Yesterday would be where i'd be.

Reading this on another blog made me ponder over the past year; a year of reflection, pathetic angst, stupidity, and all the synonyms to follow. Sometimes I ask myself, why did I let myself go through all this? Most people I’ve known move on in a few months, if not a few weeks…

I still do not hold the answer to this. Perhaps I fell in too deeply, and instead of trying to get out I allowed myself to fall even deeper. However I don’t want to think about it anymore. If you have been reading my previous posts, you may have realized a certain s –

Ha. Talking about unpredictability. Guess who just msg me? *takes in a deep breath* okay. I’m feeling perfectly fine. Yes… fine. Why are my sentences cut so short? sheeesh...

Okay, I’m back and about to post what ended our conversation. It’s hilarious. and yes that was sarcasm.

*for privacy reasons, I have altered the IM names

lys: lol
lys: so
lys: any cute guys ard in ur uni?
me: that's what all the *girls* ask .... lol jkjk
lys: lol hey i havent been out in the past 9 weeks
lys: lol
lys: cut me sum slack
lys: lol
me: hehe
lys: no really
lys: lol
lys: anyone in min yet?>

Sighies, do I still miss lys? Yes of course I do, but it is different now. It’s been almost a year and a half since we parted, and in this time I’ve come to realize that along life’s meandering paths we will all meet people whom we love. However whether we can be with them is an entirely different story, as it depends on happiness, on timing. Letting go may be one of the hardest things in life. But letting go you must, and soon enough the pain will begin to heal when you feel their now-happiness glimmer around them.

Lys. He found his girl. Is enjoying army training too. What more can one ask for?

Yes, I’m content and happy for him, and because of this, I’m able to say yesterday is not where I would like to be anymore…

Hello peoples! I would like you all to meet my new friend: Penelope the Dancing Pig:

Hahah a h a h a . . . . eugh. She. stinks. a. lot.

Anyway, enough about Penelope. Today I had planned to study and catch up on some lab work after school. However alan’s family came over so instead I spent the whole afternoon/evening chatting with him upstairs. We talked about many things, one of recurring topic being relationships and I must say, he has some very peculiar views on this subject…

You see, he’s twenty this year and keeps complaining about feeling so old. How as one reaches that age, you’re suddenly shoved with all this responsibility, with all your youth gone. Although I was beginning to sympathise with him, I realized soon after that we were talking on totally different wavelengths. Unlike him, I did not run away from home for half a year at the age of sixteen. Unlike him, I would never encourage others (e.g. me) to get a part time job in order to threaten my parents with running away from home.

I cannot say my relationship with parents have always been smooth sailing. However I would never runaway; not because I’m overly dependent on them, but because I love them so much and I’d hate the thought of seeing their disappointment. If I ever ran away from home, I don’t think I’d ever want to come back. Sure, as alan said they may treat you more as someone whose thoughts and opinions count, but I see that more as a kind of disappointment. Disappointment not just in you, but also in themselves. I’d hate to live with the knowledge of that.

My heart reaches out to alan; I would dearly love to help him, but I have no idea how but to pray for him. My friends who are his age or even older, their eyes all sparkle with youth and adventure, with love, happiness, and most importantly, hope. Instead of all this, I see such a sad boy within him, one filled with loneliness and hurt. When contrasting his clubbing 24/7 rebellious streak with what he has become now (going to uni else staying at home sleeping), I felt a pang of loss. Not saying that clubbing 24/7 is a healthy thing, but we all need to be around people; people whom we love and those who love us too.

Sighies…and when I asked him what he wanted out of life, he replied with:

1. a Ferrari
2. a larger house than his already overlarge three-storey right-beside-river house
3. a world model to be his girlfriend. Not caring whether they love each other, but just to enjoy one another’s company.

Think about it.

I’ve been sitting here for hours trying to wrap with words a feeling within me, a feeling that just won’t go away. Whereas usually I can dish out a measly attempt at doing such a thing, this time my limited vocabulary has failed me miserably.

This evening I attempted a digital drawing for the first time. As the cursor became familiar with the computer screen, what lay deep within my heart and mind began to reveal itself stroke by stroke. It’s amazing, how art can reach places words cannot. However an odd twist of fate saw my drawing become obliterated into cyber space. Searching for an hour whilst being offline, then spending almost another hour online racking through the temporary internet files, I felt firefox begin to sneer upon my computer-illiterateness.

I didn’t end up recovering the file.

Now as I sit here passively in front of the computer, I cannot help but notice the similarities between the fate of the drawing, and that of the subject in the drawing…

Like the picture, I had once felt your presence ever so close to me. Even though we were basically two strangers, I could still picture your genuine smile across that vast span of the blue nowhere. Most importantly of all, you held a special place in my heart. However at some unknown point in time I unwittingly lost you, even though you were never mine.

Perhaps, like the picture, you have always belonged on the other side of the phosphorous glow.

Felt a little queasy entering the cadaver lab today. It wasn’t the smell that bothered me, nor was it the similarities between the bodies and food (muscles/beef jerky, human skin/bamboo skin).

Whilst mr. ex-surgeon was explaining the different parts of the body, I couldn’t help noticing how the cadaver’s mouth was open. Being short and hence given the oh-so-great privilege of standing in full view of the body, it almost felt as though he was breathing on me. It was a sickening thought.

No wonder, when a teacher suggested it was time to pack up, I was one of the first few to get out of the place. And no, I did not touch the cadavers. Seeing others poke its veins and lungs, and digging their fingers under the heart and pelvis was enough to make me feel nauseous.

Here I am at alan's place after church, being bored as usual. His new haircut is hilarious; I thought he had just come back from NS or something! Lucy and David are probably out swimming, with mum and the two aunties chatting away downstairs whilst poor lil' me is stuck here all alone in the study with nothing to do but stare at two pictures they put up in the study of nude women.

Geez, that sounds horribly wrong, eh? I'm actually seeing if they fit the Golden rule, as one of the pictures looks vaguely familiar...

Anyhow, I-want-to-go-home! Like, now........

She does realize she is being stupid, gazing at your name until it disappears into oblivion. Night after night. There have also been times when your name doesn’t even appear at all, and she will wonder to herself what you may be doing at this moment in time…

Went to the ASIA club bbq after uni today. Well, what can I say…

Oh my, it was sooooo fun seeing squealing girls getting carried to the river bank and dunked. Not to mention mingling with random older year uni students. Now, what did they look like again? Their names, anyone?

In short: it was pretty much a waste of time.

Okay okay, I admit I’m not in a good mood at the moment; scraping your knees and elbows climbing “up” stairs isn’t a particularly amusing experience, especially if you’ve witnessed the same thing in the morning, only to remark to a friend, I thought you fall “down” the stairs…

Sighies…

University life isn’t what I had expected it to be. Since we get to miss out on so many labs and tutorials in the first week, it feels like I’m still on holidays. Not understanding what on earth the course/lectures are on about isn’t helping much either. Nor are the people in my PBL group

(and I’m stuck with them for the whole year? what? and rural week too??)

It seems that my last poem has left too many ends open to “strange” interpretations (if only I could copy and paste some absurd IM conversations here without ruining anonymity). However this doesn’t bring me any concerns; as long as my poems mean something to me (and not any random thing mind you), I really don’t care what others make of it. Heck, the more varied the readings of a poem, the merrier! Just don’t link the weird interpretations back to me as you’ll most likely be proved wrong…

Tomorrow I have a series of four med lectures to attend *gasps*. I’m still not used to all the acronyms they use – FCP, FAHB, PBL, FMC – and to think the world isn’t suffocated with enough random letters all strung up together!

Anyhow, first day of university wasn’t that great – but it wasn’t bad either. Although I’m still as lost on campus as on the first day of orientation, it felt like the end of the week by the time my last class rounded up. Helena gave a pretty informative talk regarding our FCP classes, though our tutor seemed somewhat discouraged by the quietness of the group.

Hopefully things will liven up next time round. That is, when we’re not all half asleep; we should be going home by 3pm, not starting another two hour long class…

I’m just sitting here, with JT’s "Take it From Here" playing again and again and again. Being a person with a minimal number of tracks in her music collection (if you could call it a collection that is), many of the songs I have are entwined with their own story. This song is certainly not an exception.

In fact, it is possibly one of the first pop songs I had ever attached a story to. You see I used to be a lover of solely classical music. Prior to when I first listened to this song, I hadn’t even heard of JT. Yes I was indeed that slow. (I still am, mind you)

If you’re wondering whether I’ll share this particular story with you tonight, forget it. All I wish to do is to listen to it so many times until I become sick of it. Then I can delete it from my computer without any regrets whatsoever.

There are so many other things I wish to delete, from the “has been” side of life that is. Or better yet, ctrl-x it until the path ahead becomes straight enough to ctrl-v.

However life is not about playing God. Instead, one must continue painting our canvas without ever lifting off the brush. Sometimes we may wittingly/unwittingly draw over past strokes. If the former, perhaps one may have been curious as to whether these two layers would compliment one another to produce a new, beautiful effect. Else, it is only until the second layer is opaque enough to create a visible difference, that you realize you’ve only just repeated history.

Well, almost.

Let your eyes close on me,
With each stroke of your brush
Swipe blindly at the stark white
Unaware, as always.

Let your tune dance on the quintet lines,
With each note of fine string
Echo within my void that
Gleams, with promise.

Fill me in, O you with nine tails,
Let your colours ooze upon my wounds
Of a skirmish long ago.

Of a skirmish long ago…

Only in silence, can the beating of a fragile heart be heard,
Only in silence, can unspoken words resonate, and
Only in silence, can she caress the curves of your face
without …

Without what? Does she even know? Perhaps it is apprehension, or pride. Or both.

Three years. Some may say I’m just being a dufus. Instead I’m here thinking, is it enough?

I still have two more days of orientation.

Host day was interesting – meeting new faces, and old. Exploring that daunting campus which shall become smaller and smaller as the years go by. Isn’t it weird, how as one grows older (trust me, height has nothing to do with the perspective in which one views their surroundings), the physical world begins to shrink whilst the intangible world within expands in complexity?

The other day, we went to enroll my sister in a primary school I once attended. Walking across that verandah, the ceiling no longer felt so high up, nor did that stretch of wooden planks seem to go on for all eternity. However with each step came memories of the good old primary school days, where time and laughter seemed always to be in surplus, and nights were never plagued with insomnia.

These few days we’ve been unpacking and moving all the furniture out of storage. Although this place is just temporary (until we find a good house with a reasonable price), it’s fairly comfortable and convenient – situated right between uwa and QEII. In addition, I finally get to have a bedroom upstairs with a phone line! Now all that’s needed is a way to persuade my parents in having a “computer-less” study and present to them all the advantages of having a computer in one’s bedroom with access to the internet. (note to self: do not mention computer games)

Wish me luck, peoples.

It seems so long ago since I’ve laid my thoughts in print, with the exception of the previous unfinished/unedited post which I’ve just deleted along with the two other random posts. Having just come back to hong kong, I’m already starting to miss my relatives in sichuan…

These two weeks have been splendid, as experienced by anyone who’s been away from their hometown for such a long while. With so many relatives to meet, scrumptious food waiting to be tried, and familiar places to visit, not a day has gone by without feeling drained, yet surprisingly contented.

Grandma is getting along nicely; her spirits seemed much better than last year and seriously does not look like a patient with cancer at all. Knowing her personality and courage, I know it will not be futile to hope that she will live ‘till a ripe old age with her years filled with happiness and laughter.

My cousins are the best, as always. Every time a kid passes us with a stick of fairy floss, we’d spend the whole while hunting down its origin (the ones very close to me would know how I simply adore the way in which its sweetness melts on the tongue from those light wisps of pure white fluff). The whole afternoon would then be spent strolling the streets whilst busily attacking the blob of whiteness in front of us. After countless of these incidents over the span of this fortnight, I’m quite surprised I’m not sick of fairy floss – well, not yet anyway.

The other day, we went to see this small bridge near mum’s old university. It seemed so ancient to me, groaning under the heavy load of traffic passing by each day. Turned out I was only one year old when they started construction on that bridge, and grandma would take me out each day to watch its progress. Of course, I have no recollection of all this anymore, but insignificant as it may seem, I shall keep this small piece of information within me.

These holidays have flown past so quickly – just over another two weeks to go before university starts yet so little of my goals have been accomplished. I had planned to raid the library until my fingers became dry from page flipping. Instead, I received two lots of fines for overdue books – all in the span of less than a month!! I also planned to fill my portfolio with sketches of scenes from the hiking trip with my family, as well as more sketches of wrinkled beings. However all that resulted was an incomplete sketch of a traffic jam at sunset in hong kong, which at a glance reveals of how rusty I have become at doing something I used to enjoy so much of.

Nevertheless, something previously not on my agenda (consciously) has surprisingly exposed itself. As the plane took off for hong kong, I felt so much closer to my parents, especially mum. I realised how hard it must have been (and still is) for her to give up such a promising career to look after me and dad when we first migrated to australia. Hearing how mum painstakingly brought me up during those first few years in china where my memory has failed me, I feel so ungrateful when I think of the times I’ve argued with her during these recent years.

People are imperfect – including one’s parents. Where misunderstandings occur, one should learn to forgive instead of rebutting to prove oneself right – especially during times when the other party is in a poor mood. I used to be like the latter, as I find it hard to leave a misunderstanding unexplained when I have the means to do so. However, all I see now is an immature, inconsiderate spoilt brat who knows she can always run to daddy if her mum becomes too angry.

I’m so glad I now see this.

And I’m looking forward to returning to perth in two/three days time too =)

As the hour hand steals its way across the face of the clock, she begins to feel the glimmer of hope fading away, dissolving into the darkness which seeps in from the world outside.

Where did you disappear to? I won’t be on the online for two whole weeks, and it’s not the internet I’m addicted to…

She feels like a kid. Whining about something that will turn out to be so trivial in the end. This isn’t like you, she thinks to herself. Where was the wall you so arduously cemented around you? That’s it. No more whining. No more thinking, or hoping. You have experienced enough to know what they all ultimately lead to.

If only…

Right-o. You have changed. Changed in a way quite surprising as the past should have taught you a harsh but solid lesson. It’s time you start paving back those loose bricks you foolishly allowed someone to dislodge.

But…

The world is already satiated with enough but(t)s. Get your act together and just click “disconnect”. You have to admit, your blankets appear exceptionally welcoming at this hour, no?

I just wanted to…

The cosmos and beyond – they don’t just revolve around you, you know. Your needs should come before your wants. And other people's wants should come before your needs. At this point in time, no one cares about what you wish to do, or have to say; everyone is just too absorbed in their own little world, with their own mountainous worries (which are really quite insignificant in the universal sense, that is unless you wish to view it all through the butterfly effect).

….to say good night

and,

sweet dreams.

I’ll be going over to Sichuan on sunday for Chinese new year. I wish I was younger; then I can be all excited about traveling solo on a plane for the first time. However now it’s like all the other activities one must endure to reach a certain destination – monotonous yet necessary.

Regarding university choices, I have finally decided to study medicine at uwa, with french as an elective for the first semester. I pray this is the right decision, though I will have no clue as I shall not have the opportunity to experience otherwise. That’s the thing with life. It is so fleeting, leaving you with little chance to explore every corner of your heart’s desire.

First year uni timetables are absolutely SHOCKING. I have my weeks jammed packed with labs, lectures and tutorials. When looking at it for the first time I was horrified at not having at least half a day, if not a full day off. I mean, isn’t that what university was about??

I guess I’m wrong once more.

As I sit here with the cold wind blowing across my face, I become lost in thought. The roar of airplanes and buses, the bustlings of travelers, all seem to be blown away from me, fading into the background.

My mind wanders over to you – wondering how you are coping with those harsh conditions of reality. Are you sound asleep at this hour? Or perhaps you are lying wide awake, aching not only of physical torments, but also of your longing for her, to see her once more. It’s strange. Today, my heart feels so heavy, so twisted when I think about you. I wish I knew why…

Recently, someone has stepped into my life. He came during a time when I had been gingerly piecing together what was left of me, in such a way that took me unaware. He is a friend I know, someone special in my eyes, and although we have only known each other for such a short time, it feels as though I have known him for all eternity.

However, I am scared. Scared of forgetting you, of allowing someone else to take your place in my heart. My memories of you had always been as though they were just yesterday, but now I already feel them fading away; like my surroundings, unimportant.

I feel so guilty. How could I be so heartless as to say that they were unimportant? I have never thought this would happen, that this day would come; how as I sit here waiting for my bus to take me home, I’d be thinking of someone else, wishing he was here by my side instead of you…

I am so confused.

Do you ever have a time when you become disappointed with a certain someone, or something? Then, you keep dwelling on it through sleepless nights of insomnia until you finally realize that all along, it was yourself with whom the disappointment lies?

I’m not talking about choices for university here, though I admit they have sparked an internal struggle within me – one that has yet to be resolved. What I’m talking about is something I have been absolutely determined to not get caught in, something I don’t know how on earth I ever came near.

This cannot be. It defies all logic.

Since it defies all logic, I must be dreaming.

However I don’t think I like this dream, it leaves you feeling vulnerable.

I want an out.

Please.

an empty pen feels lighter
without the heavy burden of thick
crimson ink;

invisible traces of memories follow
its path like a secret shared between road
and traveler,

drawing indiscernible swirls of emotion
which rise up towards a sky of
neverending grey,

condensing into burning tears,
dissolving what is left
within my soul.

She is a deeply confused girl at the moment, not knowing what else to do but rant it all out on this blog she began half a year ago. As she doesn’t expect for a miraculous sign post to pop up in her life, let us now leave this dilemma and delve into the topic of “annoyance”.

Do you want to know what she gets most annoyed about? Being confused.

Don’t you find it so annoying when someone seems to known every nook and cranny of that labyrinth within you, whilst you’re still stranded on square one? I mean, you cannot even conquer you own realm of chaos – how do you expect to reach, let alone explore, a second?

Finding the islands of order amidst a sea of chaotic ashes can be an interesting journey. However, when you’re a pathetic shipwreck stuck in the middle of a turbulent ocean without a lighthouse in sight, oh how utterly hopeless one feels. Hopeless, and annoyed at being such a hopeless wreck.

There, that is my answer to a question asked of me some days ago, though I doubt it made any sense at all. Now, is there a soul in this world holding the answer to mine?

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that multi-tasking is a gift commonly bestowed upon the feminine race. I’d have to say that this time round, I agree wholeheartedly with this “truth”, for these past few days I’ve been simultaneously munching on junk food, playing gunbound, chatting on msn, clicking away at blogexplosion, AND enjoying Thackeray’s Vanity Fair. Not bad, eh?

However as with most things, one must not merely stop there, gloating at a neat little piece of discovery. Instead, we can choose to take advantage of this fact and utilize it amongst our society’s other half.

One prime example is my dad. Although his intelligence far exceeds what I’ll ever be able to achieve, his predetermined XY fate has placed him one step behind us females. When I was small, I used to think that whenever he submitted to his daughter’s whimsical fancies, it was a consequence of his paternal love. However, though this view has remained largely unchanged, I now begin to doubt whether this alone triggers the whole tendency.

I started to ask myself, why is it during dad’s favourite television show that I used to get the most nods for an icecream? How come when dad is right in the middle of a go game, my net curfew for that night slackens considerably?

Well, it seems that trial-and-error over the years have finally paid off, for now not only am I armed with this fabulous piece of information, I have also been placed in such an advantageous XX position. Of course, the tables may turn any time if this truth sinks deep enough into the poor males of our society, and they come to realize they should have drawn up a plan long ago to counteract this natural phenomenon.

'Till then, we females shall bask in the joy of this glorious power.

=D

Come what may.

This is such a beautiful phrase, yet how empty it feels when spoken on the cold ashes of your lips. I remember you used to say it to me, and I still believe it came from your heart at that time. However it was too strong a word to use for all it did was bring false hopes…

As midnight drew nearer with the promise of a fresh start to the new year, I had my memories of you carefully tucked away such that they would remain beyond my reach.

However reality’s unpredictability proved itself true once more when someone said to me “come what may is also nice”. Although he was referring to a song, I could not help but wonder whether your last e-mail was still there, the one filled with that phrase over and over again…

It’s hilarious now thinking about it. I ended up rereading that e-mail as the new year unveiled itself – my first “read” for this year. It seems that I just can’t seem to tear myself away from my memories of you, eh?

Nevertheless, I sense something remarkedly different this year.

Let’s just hope I’m right…

I’m sitting here typing away whilst the coldness of the air around me seeps deeper within my fingers. I command them to warm up, but they do not hear me. I have been told by many that my posts are very vague. One said that it was like reading Hansel and Gretel, only without the breadcrumbs…

However, I must stress again that this is a public blog. One read by those I have yet to meet, as well as friends I have given the link to. For those in between, my vagueness is largely directed to them.

I have no fear, only reluctance.

Below are some letters I wrote last night, a leaf taken out of a blog I was reading. I am certain those whom the letters are directed to will know who they are. There a few however who will not get a chance to read it, but that is my intention.





Dear You,

When I first saw you, you were the cutest thing in the world. You still are, although I will not be caught admitting that within your earshot.

Time has passed so fast, and you are growing up even faster. There have been moments in our lives where the bond between us has been almost miraculous...

Do you remember? That night I was sleeping with you in my arms, and I had a nightmare where all these ants surrounded a stick you were about to pick up. As I woke up that very moment, I heard your small voice beside me murmuring ‘ma yi….ma yi’.

Here was I dreaming in english, and at the same time, you were going through the same dream in chinese! Don’t tell me that was merely a coincidence…

I love you dear, you’re so devious in your own sweet way. Be true to yourself, always.

Love,
Me





Dear You,

I remember my first impressions of you weren’t too pleasant. Your cold looks brought shivers to the spine of one who had just moved into an unfamiliar setting. You know that too.

However, look at us now. Although I cannot say we are as close as before, it still brings me such joy to know I’ve got a friend like you. Meeting up after yet another year apart, there’s been so much to say, with so little time to do so.

Before we take flight once more, meet up again we must. Until then, I will see what I can remember from that seemingly long list of brands you loaded upon me that day. Though, don’t get your hopes too high…

From,
Me





Dear You,

Have you ever wondered whether our friendship has grown even further apart than the distance that lies between us? I know both of us don’t wish this to be so, but such is life. As time continues to quicken its pace day by day, we all become even more absorbed within the challeges life places before us. So absorbed, that communication becomes stilted.

However, I know you and you know me. I know that I can always turn to you for help and share my joys, for you were the first close friend I ever had. You know too, that I’ll always be here for you when you need me.

Sometime in the future, near or far, I’m sure we’ll meet once more. Then, we must surely sit down and have a good long chat about the years we have missed. Perhaps by then, I may even come to enjoy the taste of coffee.

Before that day, how much we will change only time can tell. However what I know for certain is that your brains coupled with such a charming personality will make you a prominent doctor indeed.

From,
Me





Dear You,

I was really hoping you ended up forgetting about the Christmas card. I’ve made two promises to you, both of which I have broken. All I can say is I’m truly sorry…

Getting the card in the mail five days after christmas came as a surprise as I wasn’t really expecting you to send one – after all, mine is still here with me. A while back I walked to the post office, card tucked within an envelope. But then again, as with many of the things I write, they never make it to the receiver.

Yes, call me dufus. I have no grounds on which to contradict this anymore. Plus, it sure sounds better than any of its other synonyms…

I’m not sure whether we’ll meet again. However, although I doubt you will read this in time – have a happy new year. A happy, enjoyable, and challenging new year for your way too smart brain.

From,
Me





Dear You,

I’ve only gotten to know you recently, and I don’t regret it. We have had some fairly interesting conversations – whether you’d agree or not I have no clue.

I have been told by many that I’m very random in conversations. Well, what can I say? I believe I have met my match. Though, that would mean you were seriously bored, as most of my randomness stems from that area.

You have an interesting character – weird, but interesting nonetheless. Also, did you know you are the first person to pay for my movie ticket? If there is ever a next time, I shall treat you as well.

From,
Me





Dear You,

You’re such a quiet one, though many of your values and attitudes towards life are not shared by me. However with friendship always comes understanding, and I respect you for who you are.

We’ve never had a class together, yet shared countless lunch times listening to the rumblings of trucks passing through, watching the birds hopping around tentatively. Come to think of it, we even found a pecking order amongst those birds.

Just like life. The university placements are given according to a rigorous structure set by society. One that overlooks the beauty within…

Girl, wherever life takes you remember to stay true to yourself. You are beautiful.

From,
Me





Dear You,

I don’t know what to say to you anymore…

I still think about you, sometimes. But I don’t want to.

From,
Me.





Dear You,

Someday in the future you shall waltz into my life. Perhaps you’ll stay, or even, perhaps you are already part of my life.

As the icy winds roar through the slits of my window, I imagine your warm smile melting away all the coldness within me. Two hearts, locked in trust and understanding.

As idealistic I may be, I know the road ahead will have many twists and turns. However with my hand in yours, I have no fear.

Love,
Me

DON'T read my blog and think you know all about me, because you don't.

DON'T read my blog and think you have the right to probe further into my past, because it hurts.

DON'T read my blog and blab to others about it as though I told you personally, because I didn't.

Actually, forget it. Just don't even bother reading my blog. That would be much appreciated, thank you.

Sometimes, she wonders whether God has made an error of placing her here in this world, this society. There are times when she yearns to be anywhere but this place, anyone but this identity.

Perhaps this is merely a phase, these abrupt changes from a purpose driven life to feelings of hopelessness and vacuity. She thinks otherwise, however. More like a vicious cycle in which the exit is just beyond her reach. Always beyond her, just like everything else in this world.

TERs are out!
99.80

The parentals aren't that happy with it, but I'm just feeling so relieved right now I couldn't care less XD

Whilst I was happily shopping along the streets of Shenzhen, oblivious to the media around me, thousands of lives were lost to the deadly earthquake in south-east asia. An earthquake whose death toll has climbed over 12000, and rising still…

Last night I was told by a friend of this incident. At that time, powerful though the earthquakes and tsunamis were, I had not yet felt their force. However as I was trawling the rbj forums and reading the news on the internet today, I was truly shaken up by the images and details of the situation in the countries physically affected by these natural disasters. They were horrifying.

Homeless people searching for their loved ones, bodies wedged onto trees – and to think I was complaining about a hotel pillow! Gosh…

Ignorance is not bliss. It is shameful and disappointing, especially when in this society one has readily accessible information at her fingertips.


I feel awful.

[edit] Death toll now rises over 23000 [/edit]

[edit] The figures just keep rising and rising....now it's nearing 77000! People who aren't able to physically be there and help, at least DONATE - even if you have to take out a loan. Please. [/edit]

[edit] I shall no longer update these figures. Alarming though the final death toll may be, I do not wish for us to refer to it as mere figures, nor a record in history. Instead, let us think of those who have left us, and pray for those who remain. Life is so fleeting, so delicate. Do not undermine it through procrastination. [/edit]

Dining amidst a cozy ambience, with its picturesque view of the harbour and beautiful city lights, I felt a pang of guilt. Heck, this was twice - no, almost thrice my Christmas presents combined. However seeing the happiness radiating from both my parents' faces, I too began to indulge myself in this once a year treat.

With my appetite near contentment, I reclined onto the velvety chair and gazed across the harbour, transfixed at the crowned jewels of the city. Synchronised sparks danced gracefully from the heights of the skyscrapers - a simple yet elegant sight permanently imprinted within my book of memories.

For me, these fireworks signified something far greater than the dinner, scrumptious though it was. Instead, I could not help but remember that a little over two thousand years ago, our Lord Jesus was born into this cruel sinful world, a world deprived of love and purity. The humble life He led a manifestation of God's unconditional love for us...

I just want to thank You Lord, for giving me such a loving family, caring friends, joyous times, and for guiding me through trials and tribulations this past year. Without You, I would not be what I am today, and once again I truly thank You for everything.

I'm currently reading a reference book regarding the human brain and perception. It's quite fascinating, the following being an excerpt of something I just came across:

"Since the 13th century, we have known humans not only enjoy body contact, but that it is necessary for their very survival. At that time, the German emperor Frederick II was noted for his intensive research into issues of natural science. In order to expand his knowledge, he designed a number of experiments. One of these, which would be considered cruel and debasing today, focused on the human need for body contact and involved a group of orphans who were separated from the other residents of an orphanage. Their only human contact was with the foster mothers and wet nurses who bathed or nursed them. The women were neither allowed to speak nor show affection to the little ones. The outcome of this method was horrific: according to the records of the time, none of the children survived."

All of a sudden, I really really felt like hugging someone. eeeeeeeeep! =/

When friends heard that I was going to hong kong, they were like “oooooooo...cool!” However, aside from the nice cooler change in weather, I see nothing cool about being here.

My first two days were spent dusting the whole place down. Everything was tidy when we arrived - there was no doubt dad attempted cleaning the house up a bit. However, the thickness of the dust coating on the shelves, television, window frames, etc...oh my...The worst by far was the kitchen. It seemed that for the entire year, dad was oblivious to the floor's stickiness, let alone the oily stains on the stove.

I love my dad. However, I found myself grumbling all the way through the tasks mum set me.

That was the worst part. Deep down, I knew I should help willingly for dad has worked so hard all this while – writing/editing math journals, preparing lecture notes, putting up with slack uni students, etc. Also, mum has suggested a few times over the phone that he should hire a cleaner on regular basis. However, dad had always refused, saying that he was able to clean himself, and the extra money could be used for grandma’s sickness.

Thinking about this, I feel so awful fussing over which mobile I would like for Christmas. Sigh...

It is never good blogging with a laptop in bed late at night, and a soft doona forming a warm protective layer around you. During times of solitude and reflection, you end up realizing how much you have taken for granted. Your grumblings from the past seem to become heavily amplified, blaring out at your face with the blatant truth of your selfishness and ignorance.

Then, all you want to do is crawl under the safety of your doona never to come out again, ashamed at what you have become.

However, life is not about dwelling on the past. Sure, you can cringe at it all you like, but the important thing is what you make of the present, so that your future would not be merely a mirror placed facing that of the past, two panes of silver reflecting each other for all eternity.

I would like to think that I'm someone who knows exactly what her present is all about. Someone who is focused on achieving carefully set out plans for the future, someone with a clear understanding of her identity in society. However, I've learnt by now that life doesn't act according to all your whimsical fancies.

Instead, in these past twelve months I have found myself drifting back to yesteryear too often for my own liking. I've passed so many wonderful things without a second glance in this stilted journey, as my focus was constantly through the rear window.

hais...


I hope I'm not too late to shift my perspective of life.

Any guys reading this line, there is a pretty little cross within a square box, situated at the top right hand corner of the window you're currently viewing. See it? Now, go ahead and click on it...yes...great. Have a nice day/night.

Now what the heck was that for, you ask. Well, even I have no idea why I'm typing this out. I just want to have a girly session with my feminine readers, that’s all...

Sigh...I've been very moody today...just blame it on pms. The last hour, cramps have begun to set in and I seriously doubt there are any hot water bottles available this time.

Actually, I don't feel like typing anything out anymore. I just want to curl up on this seat with a blanket and stare at the screen. Except tonight this screen in front of me seems more like a dead end, than a way out.

lys. lee yong sheng. This time last year, I prayed that the holidays would allow me to forget my memories of him. However, a year has passed by, more than a year even. It almost seems as though these memories have relentlessly bound themselves onto the paths I tread.

Sometimes situations are so difficult to understand; when trying to pick out the tune from a sea of ashes, you become even more tangled within its complex webs.

There are so many more 'situations' as of late, but their possible conclusions are even more confusing. Perhaps this is why I'm hesitating to probe further than what has been tentatively exposed already.

I fear apprehension.

arrghhhs....

I loathe this cowardice within me.

It almost seems as though I am being shoved away from this place. The sweltering weather has been relentless for three consecutive days, only dropping a full ten degrees once I'm aboard the plane tonight.

The fireworks across the river last night made up some of this feeling of abandonment, but then this whopping huge flying cockroach just had to land in my chocolate chip icecream. arrrgh. At least there aren't any cockroaches in hong kong. Actually, there aren't even any ants. The only resemblance to ants would be its underground railway systems spanning across the city. A city whose occupants bustle to and fro, appearing to have a sense of purpose. However, I sure would like to question this so-called purpose. I wonder how long it has been for them to sit down and re-evaluate their goals and values in life. Then again, I don't wish to be a hypocrite.

I've been staying at alan's house these few days, the big bro alan who whacked crickets with a tennis racket down at abany years ago. The one who took me to the nearby parks under his mum's careful instructions to look after me when I was still a child, but who left me on a tree so he could go play cricket with his friends.

He probably found me annoying. I didn't like him then either, but I doubt I ever gave him the satisfaction of refusing to tag along.

He has become much nicer now, however. A few years back in Sichuan, china, he took my sis and I to the mini amusement park and let us go on all the rides. Now that's what I call one great bro ^___^ hahaha

omG....ewwww....

I have just witnessed the grossest site on earth. Alan's cousin Luay has just walked into the room without his top on. omG....I have been officially scarred for life. ick! ick!!!!!! arrrrghhhhHHHHH....gross. icketty ick!!

Hmph.

Now I am seriously beginning to think perth doesn't want my presence here anymore. Not at all...

My blogging fingers have disappeared into oblivion. I no longer feel the need to dispel my frustration or sadness to the world of unknown faces and names. I no longer want to sit down and share my happiness to this blue nowhere.

Why? Let's just say I'm going through this neutral phase, where I’m awaiting patiently for the day when carpe diem takes over once more. However, that will be still another two months.

Strange huh? I can't stand spending everyday going out, watching movies, chilling at home on the net. I know it's only been a few weeks, but I'm already starting to miss the studying – even if it’s just staring at a page of text for two hours with my mind elsewhere, at least there was supposed to be an objective.

They say that the grass is always greener on the other side. How very true....

All these years, I’ve been on a spartan internet plan set ever so kindly by mum. An hour a week for e-mail and personal use. Then largely unlimited time for researching information on assignment topics and other school-related assessments.

The result? A one day search for information regarding a literature text usually becomes a week long quest, a few weeks even.

However now that I’m “legally” armed with the password, the internet has lost its amusing streak. This could very well be that recently I lost every single yahoo chess game attempted, or it could be that I have just realized I am still using a lousy dial-up connection. That was when I was trying to download ONE song and it took a good half hour.

Now one may think I’m being frustrated here, hence concluding that my first paragraph is void. You are wrong, however.

Whether I get broadband or not will not affect this new perspective I’ve gained regarding the internet. I’ve been promised broadband next year anyway, though this is beside the point here.

The point is, I’m not used to this freedom. Freedom of going out with friends without having to report every single detail beforehand. Freedom of being on the phone for eternity. Freedom of chilling out in my room without having to be checked on every so often to see whether a physics study guide is before me. Actually, let’s just say I’m suddenly being shoved with all this freedom of practically everything I’ve previously complained of lacking.

I don’t even know whether this is a good or bad thing.

Yesterday I left home at half past eight, came back home for a short stop in the late afternoon, and then stayed out until eleven thirty practicing the wedding songs and helping with the decorations. So tired aii..

At least the wedding today went fairly smoothly. Elsye the bride was beautiful and the food was yummilicious, especially those kebabs. I need to learn how to cook food. yes…food. real food. not just tummy-fillers but those taste-bud enchanters ^___^

At the moment I’m waiting until six to go over to Jennifer’s place for dinner. Hmmmm…..

There are times when boredom gets the better of you, and you end up sitting in front a computer filling out a quiz like this one, just for the sake of filling one out.

10 Qualities your dream guy possesses
1. Witty/humorous
2. Loving/ Understanding
3. Intelligent
4. Smiles
5. Talkative but with a calm personality
6. Articulate (English!!)
7. Confident
8. Appreciative
9. Huggable
10. Knows how to spoil a girl =)

Don’t you find it so hard to describe your dream guy/girl? Sometimes, you may meet someone with basically all the qualities you wished for. However, that special feeling on your part just isn’t there. Strange, huh?

9 things you enjoy doing
1. Laughing until your stomach hurts
2. Playing indoor soccer
3. Reading throughout the whole night
4. Thinking
5. Drawing aged people
6. Origami
7. Eating
8. Talking
9. Tickling my lil’ sis

8 things you don't enjoy doing
1. Arguing with parents
2. Forced conversations
3. Being tickled
4. Mood swings
5, Being sick/tired
6, Afternoon naps
7, Headaches
8. Eating eggplant

7 things you have in your room
1. Mattress, without the bed
2. Bed sheets
3. Pillows
4. Blanket
5. Drawers of a limited supply of clothes =(
6. Carpet
7. Laptop

I am serious. This is ALL I have. (cos we're moving house laaaa =P)

6 collections you have
1. Stickers
2. Stamps
3. Letters
4. Cards
5. Pens =)
6. Broken coloured pencil leads in the back
of THREE uHhu-glue-sticks

5 things you can't live without
1. God
2. Family
3. Friends
4. Communication
5. Laughing

4 things that make you laugh
1. Happy people
2. My own stupidity
3. Crazy people
4. Being tickled T.T

3 things that make you cry
1. Parents
2. Books
3. My own stupidity

2 of your favourite foods
1. Watermelon
2. Sushi =)

Who the heck put the category of “food” under 2 things?? This is seriously a criminal injustice to all my other favourite foods. hmph.

1 dream/ambition that you will never abandon
1. Find THE waterfall.

Clock reads 10.32 pm. Not that you need to know…

Heavy beats, horrible music, swearing, yelling/screaming. At the moment, all are being refracted towards my ear drum, possibly resulting in yet another night of insomnia. How I wish my windows and walls are made of a stiffer material…

I’ve just come back from choir practice – Calvin missed my house the first time round because of all these cars parked along the street. It turned out my neighbour is holding another party…

I WANT TO SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!! So tired aiiii…..

Choir practice was hilarious, especially with Daniel and his imitations of Calvin’s bass notes hahahaHA XD

Oh and another thing: I can NOT sing. So no tony, bending forward doesn’t increase the sound intensity level reaching your ear drums because there weren’t any sound waves produced in the first place =P

However, although I’m not gifted vocally like Joanna, I sure know how to lip-mime. =) hehehe just kidding…hmmm….don’t know why on earth I go to the practice sessions o.0

Here I am sitting outside my house with the garage door open and a crisp, cool breeze blowing across my face. The computer and internet cable snakes its way along the paved floor, into the house where bareness suffocates the walls.

I’m waiting. Waiting out here for that stranger to notice the dark words against blue. I hope it’s a she.

I wonder what it is like to be that desk over there, with a tag on its polished yet worn surface. I wonder what it is like to have a price, a limited one that is.

That desk, it’s been with me through good and bad days, always there for me to lean on and reminisce over what has been. It’s shared my stupidity, day dreams, laziness. It will be gone soon, however. Nothing good ever stays…

I hope it’ll find a better friend.

I never liked dealing with strangers. Giving them something of yours in return for a few bits a paper. That paper has worth all right, but a worth lacking that special bond.

I don’t like garage sales.

Boxes, boxes, and more boxes. The floor of my house is covered with boxes. Wine boxes, fruit boxes, boxes of electrical goods. Only what’s inside are clothes, books, and unused cookery.

Yes, mum has already started packing away. I guess after two weeks, I won’t be seeing much of this place anymore.

I’m the sort of person who never likes to trash stuff – regardless of their uselessness. I used to keep almost everything, from kindy paintings to all the cranes I’ve folded over the past few years. I’ve moved boxes of scrapbooks from perth to hong kong, and then all the way back again – thinking that this will be the last time we’ll ever have to move in a long long time.

Long time indeed. Three years has been the longest I’ve ever stayed at any school in my life. Sigh…..

Well, mum has made me trash practically everything that doesn’t have any immediate use. I know it’s always very troublesome to move them around, but I’ve always imagined having this attic of secrets and treasures…things that you’ve forgotten about but uncover tens of years down the track.

Perhaps I read too many stories….

You are not going to believe this.

It’s been a while, a long long while since I’ve felt this way. Today, something strange is happening and I don’t know how or why. It’s this feeling within you that makes you feel you’ve lost something, something precious, and your stomach is all twisted and hollow and your heart feels unsettled and not enough oxygen is getting to your brain.

How can this be? For some reason, when asking myself the source of this unexpected feeling, I immediately thought of lys, and something, some gut instinct, made me go back to last year’s diary. I met empty pages, one after the other. What I was looking for wasn’t there. Then, just a moment ago, I remembered last year’s school hmk diary. Flipping through the first few pages – I had it highlighted:

17th November 2003 English Literature Exam

I’ve read somewhere that there are two groups of people. Those who believe in coincidence, and those who don’t. I don’t belong to either group. All I am right now is confused and unsettled and all I hope for is that tomorrow will bring the promise of a new day and past memories can fade and …

…

so many thoughts have been through my mind this hour. Almost all of them are indiscernible snippets which fade the moment I try to think of what it is/was. All I know is that his shadow still lies there, like the novel I’m currently reading - The Shadow of the Wind, an invisible presence revealed only through the paths it once howled though…

this is all too strange. just talking about the wind reminds me of how they’ve blown across Perth these two days…

haiz….

Sometimes she lies on her bed watching the whiteness of her ceiling wash over her. She imagines, for a second, what it would be like to have the floor the ceiling, and the ceiling the floor.

There would be a clean floor instead of books and papers strewn over the carpeted bareness. There would be no obstacles hidden from view by the enveloping darkness of the night sky, only to stub you in the toe, unaware. The doorway would have an extra step to it - the only obstruction in the room, causing you to think twice before leaving…

It seems all too perfect, too bare.

She imagines how things would be like now, had she not fallen into those comforting arms whilst surrounded by prying eyes, and blabber mouths. Would they have continued the eagerness of hearing each other’s voices? Would they not have had any complications, arguments? Would time continue to stand still as their eyes locked in trust, in understanding?

She closes her eyes…

Perhaps this is better than what could have been.

Through her lashes, she sees again the familiarity of her room. The desk with an untouched cup of milk, unravelings of a wite-out gone hay-wire. She sees her room for what it is.

And she thinks to herself, she has been gazing at her ceiling for too long. Far too long…

As I was practicing the hymns for tomorrow’s church service, I noticed something that never occurred to me before.

You know how people talk about the ying and yang? masculine and feminine. black and white? Well, all these binary oppositions seem to be everywhere! The hymn that was in front of me, hymn 30, holds an extremely rigid rhythm. Hence the stark contrast between the filled/unfilled circles making up each note struck out at me, this time in such a non-aural way.

I wonder, why is it that the yang always precedes the ying? In music, the yang’s minims and semibreves are given the most beats – and generally played with more power to sustain the note throughout the bar. On the other hand, the ying’s crotchets, quaver’s etc. are usually played softer and more delicate than their unfilled partners.

hmmmm….

However, on a music score we see the entwining of the two - brought together by the composer, creating beautiful music.

Kind of like adam and eve, eh?

(btw, I don’t believe in all the ying/yang superstitious stuff. It was merely a well known binary opposition that came into my mind as I was playing piano a moment ago, and its use of extreme ends of the tone spectrum fitted well with the score in front of me)

One thing most girls would be worried about is having their thingo coincide with TEE. Eve is so annoying, getting us kicked out of Eden and then making us suffer these stupid cramps each month. Why couldn’t it be Adam getting them instead?? grrrr…..Thank God, however, that today and tomorrow I have no papers to sit. Perhaps you don’t realize the extent of my relief at this point in time. But then again, the you I’m directing this to has no feelings or thoughts. Instead, you are comprised of electric pulses making up what we call the blue nowhere. mmm…though humans also function due to electric (nerve) pulses…

ANYWAys…I do hope that panadol coupled with this gross chinese medicine (no connie, not *ahem*) will get me through this afternoon. I have to go visit Mrs. Q after lunch, and go through some practice essays I’ve been writing up in fervent hope that my lit marks can go that extra millimeter.

Somehow I don’t think it’s worth it. As I have said previously, the correlation coefficient between my efforts and marks in English literature is far from 1. However, who knows? I may get some handy tips from Mrs. Q today, the essays being merely a ticket into that school Wieman guards ever so fiercely. hehees =P

Calculus TEE was also much better than the mocks. heys, TEE doesn’t seem so bad after all ^___^ Or maybe I just haven’t done my applicable paper yet…

Its pouring outside at the moment. In fact, it’s been pouring all day. The sound of rain is largely considered ‘noise’ by most people, because of its frequencies being all screwed up. However, I remember those ‘rain makers’ we made out of rice, chicken wire and post office tubes. The sound was so pleasant, a result of purer frequencies resonating within the air column…Yikes. I was celebrating yesterday about never having to do physics again, yet here I am blabbing on about sound. ick!

hmmm I am somewhat glad that mum has disconnected the internet. I’m not missing it as much as I thought I would…which is fairly sad in itself because the internet definitely doesn’t deserve to be missed as much as many other things in life. Anyhow, as I was saying, its good that I’m spending less time blogging, chatting on msn, etc. (actually make the latter zilch-time) Two weeks of walking around the house-watching goldfish swim-raiding the food cupboard-pinball-staring at the ceiling-and study is a much better alternative.

Don’t you think so?

Went to this neat little Chinese restaurant for dinner with my family and our two neighbours. They are both such cute grannies, and they’ve seen so much of this world it’s simply amazing just listening to them chatter on and on! They’ve been to more places in China than me, and Mary who lives opposite us paints as a hobby. She’s even had her paintings up in various art galleries!

Old people are amazing, their wrinkles personify their life stories…hehees and george can tell you all about it now that he’s heard my little theory about wrinkles hahaha!

Amidst the waves of applause, she feels stranded, marooned on a lone island where her pleas echo soundlessly across the vast night sky above. Surrounding her, silver droplets glisten surreptitiously in the corners of a sea of eyes, reflecting a certain sadness and longing for the fond times that are now the past.

Fondness. She reaches out to grasp its wisps, but to no avail. She doesn’t feel a sense of belonging there, not here, not anywhere.

Three years have come and gone. She feels just as alien as the time she walked into the classroom and wanted to disappear back to that temporary place where she had once called home. That place bustling with lights and energy, a place filled with familiar faces and teachers she knew as friends.

She grew up with those people, not these. She never saw the innocence of this bunch save for a few. She doesn’t remember going through any trials or tribulations with this group, nor was she involved in any arguments upon which friendships strengthened.

However, her pleas to return to that place are no longer answered, quenched below the cheers and music reflecting from the walls of the concert hall. No longer can she call that place of typhoons and high rise buildings ‘home’, for the story there has shuffled on without her…

-------------------------------

As this girl sits on the cushioned chair, she feels a sense of loss. She wonders why a place once so foreign could be missed so much, yet this land she grew up in as a child can suddenly seem so unfamiliar…

Perhaps she has long given up wishing to fit in, for she has been accustomed to being constantly on the move. Next year, Melbourne. Oh great, here we go again….

Beside her, a friend takes in a sharp breath. Looking up, she sees that their turn is coming soon, their turn to wear that beautiful white sash in which she sees little meaning. She feels a sudden whiff of nausea.

-------------------------------

Letters and e-mails, msn and phone calls. She thinks she should be grateful that she’s been able to keep in contact with her friends of the past. However, she finds that over time, the gaps in each other’s lives have become too large to fill. As people become so busy, so absorbed with their own little worlds, the letters diminish day by day. Even her own drawers are still full of the unopened pretty letter paper she had so enthusiastically bought the year before…

She enjoys this sense of independence, of peace and of being alone. She finds herself relieved that she doesn’t need gossip to sustain her during lunch times. However, she also yearns for that elusive company, people whom she can share silence with, a comfortable silence filled with understanding, and caring…

-------------------------------

Movement is sensed out of the corner of her eyes. She is dragged back down into the reality of that claustrophobic hall, and grudgingly rises as per required.

Once again, she draws in a big breath, smiles, and follows the line of graduates ahead of her. Or should she say, her form class – a class whom after a year, she still hasn’t bothered finding out the unknown names of a few faces…

Smiles. They will get you through anything. Sometimes, reality and fantasy can unwittingly melt into one. Times like these, you find yourself so relieved that it is your smiles overwriting sadness, and not the other way around…

What is the opposite to love? Hate? No, that is merely another side to it. The opposite of love, is indifference.

There are uncountable people around me whom I love and care about. Fortunately for me, I’ve never ‘hated’ anyone. Sure, I get annoyed and frustrated at them sometimes, but it’s never really come across me that should hate them or something.

Hate is too troublesome. Especially so when instead, there’s such a wonderful thing called love.

Indifference however is something I have come across. It’s too easy to not show love to a person you care about. All you have to do, is to do nothing.

Every evening, dad calls from hong kong. And for so many days now, I keep forgetting to tell him how much I love him. It must be so hard for him to have to work all year, away from the family. To not be able to be kissed and hugged off to work each morning by his daughters is bad enough. However, not even being told how much we love him, and care about – I feel so awful…

Sighies…if there was more love in this world, what a better place it would be. A better place for the one giving, receiving, and the onlooker….


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TUESDAY 2nd NOVEMBER

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I am craving for some peace and quiet. All afternoon, I’ve been drowned in my sister’s scales and appregios. She bangs on that poor piano like there’s no tomorrow, fervently preparing for her upcoming piano exam. It’s driving me crazy.

What’s worse, she is totally unlike me. Where I would’ve not been able to stand practicing for over an hour a day – often just a brief practice on the few days prior to a piano lesson, my sister actually sits there for over two hours a day, seven days a week.

That’s more than fourteen hours of torture I’m subject to per week.

No, I’m not saying she’s a bad piano player. However, just try listening to scale after scale after scale whilst stuck on a question in a past TEE paper, and you’ll get my gist.

arrrghhh….

…every time the monotonous notes begin to reflect off the walls, the softness of my bed covers start to look all the more welcoming…

ANYWays, the following are just some random thoughts I’ve not been bothered to put into sync:

• Blogger.com has gone whacko with its timestamps. However, I’m not bothered to browse through my previous entries to check if there are further mistakes. I’m not fussy about precision in this case – just as long as the date is okay, I’ll be fine.
• I want TEE to be over and done with. It has been way too long since I’ve had a ‘real’ holiday…
• School breakfast was very, very wet indeed.
• Two down. Last one (valedictory) to go.
• Girls love chocolate. I’m a girl.
• GOOD LUCK to all those sitting TEE this year. Especially so to fellow rshs students because I’m counting on you guys to lift my school marks up, okay? tehhehehe…joking! Anyways, study hard peoples!

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MONDAY 1st NOVEMBER

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Mum and her friend are so cute!

Yesterday was Halloween, right? Well, mum didn’t know there was such a ‘festival’ (we don’t celebrate it), and neither did her friend. So, as mum was knocking on auntie’s door last night, she was swamped with a group of adult-sized people draped in black.

And she totally freaked out!!

Auntie opened the door, let mum in, and slammed the door shut again – both of them panicking so hard that they actually phoned the police!!

hahahaHAHAHAH XD

When mum came home, I saw her checking all our windows to see if they were shut properly, and so I asked her if there was anything wrong.

When she told me what had happened in such a serious/frightened manner, my sister and I burst out laughing so hard that it took forever for us to calm down enough to explain to her that no, “trick or treat” isn’t a rude phrase, and no, the black-robed people weren’t meaning them any harm at all (hopefully).

teheheh

=P

Mum can be so adorable at times!!^^

I am wondering when I can go on the net next. Arguments with my mum never last more than a day, which is bad for me because I never learn and always find myself recommitting the same mistakes once mum’s in her good mood again.

I do hope that I don’t take that into my upcoming exams.

Church today was okay. However, I don’t think I have enough brain cells left to memorize the rest of the books of the Bible…the minor prophets…yikes…I can’t even pronounce half the names even with it in front of me!!

But that doesn’t mean I won’t give it a try.

Pastor Goh talked about the shadow of death today…my Grandma isn’t yet a Christian…

She’s sick. A few years ago she was diagnosed with cancer, and her frail little body has coped relatively well throughout all this time…

However, lately she’s been suffering a relapse again, and it doesn’t look too good.

I can’t say that I’m very close to my grandma, and truthfully, I’m more anxious about mum. Okay, that sounds very wrong, I know…but it’s not that I don’t care much about grandma. I do. It’s just that I know mum and grandma are very very close…and I’m scared of seeing mum break down again…like the time she found out grandma had cancer…

Sighies…ultimately we must all face physical death. However, it’s always worst off being on the other side, being the one having to live with the knowledge that a loved one has left you…




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SATURDAY 30th OCTOBER
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Chinese oral: It’s weird, I’ve never really been that nervous for any exam before. However prior to my oral exam, my stomach was crammed with butterflies. It was cold, and Mt Lawley SHS didn’t seem very warming either.

Entering the room, this ‘ah beng’ (dubbed by serene because of his orange flame hair) examiner was there looking all solemn and downright freaky.

I sat down, took in a deep breath, and began my prepared speech.

Thank God, as the words flowed from my mouth, the butterflies left one by one. The two examiners seemed very nice people, and actually laughed all the way through at my sandwich story (unlike the mocks’ examiners where instead, their faces reflected their suspicions on whether I should be doing beginners Chinese or not)

I think they did more talking than me in the interview section. The ah beng droned on and on about his knowledge of which universities across Australia offered medicine, until the other examiner butted in and asked me about the foods I liked to eat.

Great! It was a topic I had been expecting and hence prepared for. So far, this oral exam was going on perfectly fine.

…………………………麻婆豆腐，宫宝鸡丁，粉蒸肉，扣肉… (not really true, but since two of them were derived from our text book, it should be okay…all of them sounds very chinesey to me)

Then, that other teacher had to start lecturing me about how I should learn how to cook Sichuan cuisine from mum. And like the ah beng, he decides to give me a dose of endless yakking about a billion other things I should be doing/preparing for if I moved over to the eastern states.

After that, two/three more questions, and I was out of there!

It didn’t feel like an exam at all.

So, that was my very first TEE exam. From now on, I_will_never have to speak Chinese again under exam conditions. How cool is that!!^^




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FRIDAY 29th OCTOBER
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I just can’t seem to do anything right. Haiz….I went and broke the computer/calculator cable and poor Jack had to waste all his time fixing my mess. I’m so glad he’s smart, or I’d be having to avoid him everywhere I go for fear that he had failed one of his TEEs as a result.

*whimpers*

and mum isn’t being much of a help either…

I feel like a mouse in an open field. A mouse being watched by a hawk, and might I add, a very sharp-eyed hawk too.

sighies…

It’s late in the afternoon at the moment, and I’m vainly attempting to challenge reality to settle within me. It’s not working. It doesn’t feel at all that TEE is a week away. It doesn’t feel that I have an oral exam tomorrow.

Perhaps I should throttle reality until it faints, and shove it deep within the pits of my muddled brain.

I didn’t blog much yesterday. It didn’t feel like the end of high school, not at all. Back at home, it felt as though it was just the end of another day…People were crying. Okay, one person was crying (jack yap). Though for some reason, I didn’t believe him when he said that because although he does seem like the nostalgic type, we still have Monday and Tuesday of next week before the final parting… even if there won’t be classes running. Well, that’s what I keep telling myself…………….. Fine. Call me insensitve if you want.

She looks at herself…why is she the only one not part of the crowd? She feels cold, stone cold….

Has she truly been able to numb herself void of feelings? Or, is she too good at concealing herself behind that mask of happiness, hiding so that even she can’t see the girl behind anymore….

Sighies…one more week ‘till my first TEE written exam. Physics. Then in turn will be calculus, chemistry, english literature, chinese second language, and finally, applicable maths.

I am not freaking out for some reason.

Is she ‘human’?? she’s thinking. She doesn’t seem to be feeling anything that she’s supposed to be feeling, what everyone else is feeling. All there is, is a certain blankness about her…she smiles. she is happy, content. They are all true… yet, deep within her still echoes of pain.

She doesn’t wish to acknowledge it.

And she doesn’t.

EXAMS. I am looking forward to them. It will be an interesting experience, to be able to completely drop a subject one after the other, as you complete each exam. Strolling across a field, feeling lighter with each step…

Lighter…she remembers, remembers that day she wagged school for the first time for him. Strolling across the greens. Feelings of doubt, uneasiness, all crushed under the comfort of being in his arms of warmth and safety….

EXAMS. My first one actually starts tomorrow. But it’s my Chinese oral – so it should be alright since I’ve practiced and practiced for endless number of times. However, there are two places I constantly stuff up in…and it’s not my pronunciation that is the problem. I think it’s something to do with ‘where’ I practice it – for at home I always make mistakes, but in the actual exams I’m much more fluent. How I wish that was the case for my other subjects….

Btw, it’s a (less than) two minute ‘speech’ about my sister and her mouldy sandwiches tehehe

She smiles at the thought of her sister. She watches her grow day by day…remembering how she once was that puny blob of blubber googaaing happily in her play pen.…….She knows, that regardless of where the future takes these two sisters, she will always be that baby in her eyes...


I love my sister =)

Isn’t is queer – we humans seem to almost never be satisfied with what we have. One such example is our hair. I’m not sure about guys, but with girls – those with straight hair try endless ways to perm their hair into curls, whereas nice naturally curly hair are often subject to torturous ironing.

Although I hate to admit it, I’m no exception. Being born with dead straight hair – how often do I find myself longing for that extra bounce of curls………….. I remember watching Meteor Garden (one of the worst television series one can possibly view – so you probably should be able to comprehend the level of boredom I had been subject to at that time hahah.)

Anyhow, in that series, this girl ‘Jing"….her hair was so nice!^^ Made me go all gaga ….omG o.0…*looks at myself weirdly*. I am turning into such a girl! ick ick!! Heheheh o wait. I am a girl. =P

Hmmmmm……however, although her hair is nice to look at, no way would I want it – you’d have spend way too much time each morning hair spraying the curls to perfection. Methinks I should get a wig –

JOKINg!!!! hahahahAH XD

Talking about girls, Mrs. Q sparked a pretty interesting thought yesterday. In this society where supposedly males and females are equal – why is it that movies based on a patriarchal notion (e.g. Love Actually) are still watched and enjoyed by people across the country? Why is it that Korean series and most Chinese martial art series have the female characters constructed as the weaker gender – they either have leukemia, or they are in perpetual need of medication?

I don’t know about everyone, but I personally like the feeling of protection – by God, parents, friends…. I guess that’s one of the reasons I don’t object strongly to that aspect of the patriarchal notion where girls are all pampered and everything ahahahha….

However, who says that we cannot reverse the roles? Everyone desires to be loved, hugged, cared for, protected…..all in all, to feel special in another person’s eyes, regardless of gender. It’s all a matter of give and take (aka law of conservation of energy). Well, in my dictionary anyway.

Nevertheless, viewpoints of single souls don’t seem to count much in our society (oh the irony…..)

In societies in the past, present (and future for The Handmaid’s Tale readers), it seems that most things are still shifting towards the feminine side of the equilibrium in terms of protection, etc. It’s strange, how the poor men in our society aren’t crying out with signposts and marches….demanding some pampering. lol (or, perhaps they have…it’s just that the media decides not to enlighten average people like me who aren’t bothered to scrounge around the web for the fine prints….which raises more eyebrows in itself, eh?)

Of course, I’m only looking at one side of the patriarchal notion. =P





Hmmmerz, enough about that….it’s been a good week for me. As TEE creeps closer…I am feeling less stressed, even though this week can be considered my most bookish week in three years!! Ironic huh?

It will probably be at least another week before I post again…meanwhile, I will be savouring my last four days of high school ……………………..*sobs*






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THURSDAY 21 OCTOBER


Internet deprivation is not a healthy thing for someone living in perpetual boredom. What’s worse – their school computer administrator decides to ‘block’ blogspot. bleh

sighies…mum has changed the password for internet (again) so I can only go on ‘legally’ on Saturdays now….haiz…

Mock results are back. The only result I’m slightly happy with is Chinese – ironically the only subject I didn’t study for. However, that’s a dodgy subject so it doesn’t really count. I mean, most of our class wouldn’t have been eligible to take it as a second language had I been the head of the judging panel. Though, I’m definitely not complaining as this may be the list one subject I’m counting on to calculate my ter…

River cruise was on Tuesday – not as many people turned up as last year, but it was a good night nevertheless.

I brought my ancient camera along, and captured some moments of our last ever social function in high school. Too bad some people didn’t end up going…*glares* ahahaHAH

You know, I believe that the camera is one of the best inventions in history. Don’t you find it awesome how one can capture an instance in time, and be able to reproduce it in a way that almost replicates that image we saw through the lens, or an image someone else saw? An instance in time – so infinitely exact, that the best we humans can do to define that very moment is merely a date.

day. month. year.

Or slightly better – seconds. minutes. hour

Though, I guess that precise moments don’t really matter to us. After all, we’re not that fussy about precision, right?

Hmmmz….somehow I’m not too sure about that. Prior to the invention of precision machines (precision as in modern day terms), people were generally content with their current methods of measurement – for example the sundial. However as technology advanced, prefixes such as milli, micro, nano, etc. came into perspective.

Up until now, all I can think of is ‘milli’ being used for every things, like milliseconds and millimeters. However, who is to decide what is potentially useful? (remember there was once a time when even seconds in a minute held little meaning) Are we just too lazy to even try and comprehend further precision? Or is it truly of no value to us in terms of everyday living?

I personally find it hard to understand why we need more precision in our lives. Yet, when I was a child, I too was content with centimeters. Round it off they’d say. So I did. After all – it was easier, and it did get me the marks I aimed for.

We don’t know any better. Or if the better is the worst. All we know is the present, and seem to be brainwashed by it to satisfaction.

*sigh* I don’t even know what this post is on about. I was talking about the river cruise….Now my mind is so muddled up I don’t know how I’m going to go back to study later on.

Okay, I’m thinking that on one hand, we truly don’t_need further precision for everyday living. Yet, on the other hand, I’m worried that I only think this way for I have only lived this way.

I cannot seem to penetrate that wall society has instilled upon us…

I need more brain cells. If only I could take a peek over that wall – whether it prove me wrong or right…just one peek at the truth. Truth…such a dodgy word. Even a factual account of the truth can be proven false for the lack of precision in language itself, in human measurements. That is, if you define truth as precision. In this case, I will not even attempt to comprehend what infinite precision is like…though, I’d love to ask God when I get to meet Him^^

Btw, when I said I needed more brain cells…I meant I needed people with connections across their neurological paths superior to mine. Yes, I admit I am too lazy to figure it out myself. Or perhaps, I realize I just can’t. The probability of that very connection forming within my brain is so minute I will be physically rotting away already, or have rotted away.

A monkey at a typewriter…

hehees

You know, I believe that through language (arguably our most efficient form of communication to date), each brain in the world is like a single cell – interconnected to form a massive brain. The more we share ideas and thoughts through language, hence exercising these connections, the more efficiently this massive brain works.

OkAY. bleh. I think I’m drifting off in all directions today. Such a pointless yet interesting (to me anyway) reflection. Just like life itself – so many pointless things out there, yet often they are what makes life interesting. Actually, living is pretty pointless – for the result is a mere reduction to carbon. Yet life is still interesting because of what lies between the brackets.

For Christians like me, we’re not supposed to be pessimistic. When people talk about everything tending to entropy – they usually relate it to a pessimistic view of life. However, although I see the second law of thermodynamics working amidst us, I also see the hope that lies ahead – or even, the hope that has, is, and always will be with us. That is, God!^^

So, am I pessimistic or optimistic?

Or am I an optimistic pessimist?

Or a pessimistic optimist?

Or can that even exist?

Perhaps I’m just a blank

An empty bracket…

….


So many questions….one thing I do know about myself however, is that I sure know how to waste time *grinz*

Saturday. Two weeks of holidays almost over. Thank God I have been keeping up with my study schedule. It feels good, to have done all your summaries for each subject, gone through all the questions you can get hold of, been through most past papers. If feels good to be up to date, for once.

Coming to rossmoyne, I have slacked so much – it’s hard to believe I used to work so hard compared to what I am now. Looking at my assessment results to date from this school, and looking at the weeks remaining until tee – I wanted to kick myself. bleh

Hopefully, I have not left it too late.

I don’t want anymore regrets, although they are inevitable.

*take in a big breath*

righto. Just over three more weeks. Mum has been taking away the phone line again. Perhaps I should give her some peace of mind and shun away from this blog in these remaining weeks prior to tee. Perhaps I should give up climbing onto this bar with half a dozen yellow pages stacked under my laptop, and using a meager five centimeter long phone line that originally came with my mp3 whenever mum goes out grocery shopping.

After all, I did say I didn’t want anymore regrets just a moment ago, right?

…..



--------------------------
lys…are you okay? sigh…….i cannot help you, for i am standing in the shadows, on the wrong side of this looming wall…..i all can do is pray for you….that you will be safe, that things will turn out alright…

You know what I think? Okay, this is very random, but I think there’s a whole underground society out there, that is constantly inventing stuff. For example, cheap ways to make erasers that never wear down, gel pens that can be used for years. I’m sure they have been invented/ can be invented.

However, companies want customers to be constantly buying their products. In the play Death of a Salesman, Willy says, ‘they time those things. They time them so when you finally paid for them, they’re used up.’

Is it possible, that this underground society is paid billions of dollars are year - to keep their mouth shut?

Around sometime last year, iPod released this new mp3 onto the market. It’s memory capacity totally owned most other mp3s, and with the new iPod minis – it’s surprising how other mp3s are still bringing in profit for their companies. Perhaps it’s the look – if they made it smaller or something…

ANywayz, I believe the only reason it made it way to market, was because the company felt that more profit would be made marketing the product instead of paying the inventor to keep silent about the invention, lest they bring it to another company for consideration.

Hmmmerz…if this was the case, that is, there is such a society out there… it’s such a waste…. I wonder how you can check it up?

It was raining yesterday. In spring.

One day in the future, I would love to spend a whole day out in the rain, soaking up the cold. I would love lying on soft green grass, with rain pouring on me…and the only sounds you’d hear would be the howling wind, and the rain. I’d love to just lie there, without having any worries or thoughts… just lying there…to be…

I’d love to do that.

But, I don’t like the rain. I never did. Somewhere amidst my neurotic trails a link between rain and sickness formed. I don’t know how....or when…

Why do people have to change? Why can’t we remain like kids at heart? It saddens me to see how so many people I know, my age, change over the years into such different people. If their childhood soul floated onto them one day, would they be able to recognize their own reflection in the mirror?

I’ve been constantly on the move, went to four primary schools, two high schools. Keeping in contact with some of my friends from various schools, it’s strange that through our letters, our friendships haven’t changed. Every time I receive a letter, it’s almost as though I’m opening an old chest, dusting off cobwebs…going back into time…

However, for those who remain, friendships form/break, groups shift/ disband…I hear about old primary friends turned druggies. Innocent laughter frozen into plastic moulds. Nevertheless, every time I try to picture their faces in my mind, all I can remember are those times we shared an ice cream together, dress-up sleepovers… childhood innocence…

It is this stark contrast that truly scares me.

I look at myself. I’ve lost all that childish roughness. Where once I would’ve taken someone’s word without thinking twice, I’ve become less gullible. I see the wall around me rising day by day, hardening.

I’ve become silent. Bitter. The mist of cold sarcasm surrounds me, only to dissipate when I get busted for ‘answering back’.

Last year, I loved watching Korean series. I wouldn’t miss a thing just to finish one off. Now? Let’s just say that last night, I tried watching half a chapter and couldn’t take it anymore. Don’t ask me why.

Next year, people heading off to uni/tafe/work. What will we be like then? In a few years time, will we change? If so, in what ways? There are so many questions…

However…….this time, I’m not sure whether I want to know the answers….


People walking by you in the shopping mall…

Heavy perfume
Hard faces
Frowns
Nose rings
Tattooed back
Rudeness
Glares
Racism…
Murders…

Yet, once upon a time…they too shared an icecream with a friend. They too had faces lit up with innocent smiles. They too, had a heart so beautiful, so golden, that even God would smile from above.

She gazes across to the horizon, searching for an answer. Its colours of autumn are dimming, its wisps of warmth just beyond her reach. Her heart is troubled; she had been talking to a friend, a close friend, with the result of uneasiness tagging along everywhere she goes...

…stop making me feel this way, stop being so nice to me… it only makes me feel worse than what I already am… I am no god, my God is the one and only God. I just want to be friends….for friendship is something that never fades…

She feels the light breeze brush against her cheeks, remnants of a past buried deep within her heart. Concealed layer upon layer, purposely, so that even she wouldn’t reach it easily. Hidden so deep it that its presence will remain with her for all eternity...

*sigh* …I loathe intimacy, I fear it. I fear the shadows of pain lurking behind any intimate moment. I don’t want to hear any references to it, for the flood of memories that it brings is torture.

I have no answer as to when this phase will end. Perhaps not in my lifetime. Perhaps tomorrow. I_don’t_know. All I know is that at the moment, I can’t stand anyone being close to me. Please a.w., don’t be another reason I don’t wish to go back to hk. I need you, your friendship.

It was that friendship, it was that very conversation with her friend, which unfolded a corner ever so slightly, exposing a surface so bright its rays pierced her heart again and again. Uncovering a surface of jet that engulfed her with endless throbbing of pain.

It’s been more than a year now. I know you know who I’m talking about. l.y.s. I also know that you know I cannot forget him. In this light, do you understand how I feel?

She wonders, whether she is being too selfish. However, the rising pain that surrounds her clouds her senses. She doesn’t think anymore. She didn’t want to, couldn’t. Rationality became lost somewhere behind the horizon, beyond her reach, out of her sight…

What can she say?

Dear aw,

Are you listening? Reading a book in the Fanling library will
beat watching a movie any day. Yes, I’m being serious.

Also, don’t halt
your steps on a side path, especially one that leads to a dead end. I am
positive you will find your other half of the rainbow someday not far away. Just
keep walking.

Last but not least, you could say a prayer is like an
e-mail to God, but an e-mail is not a prayer. Do you get what I mean? A friend’s
help and understanding is quantized. God’s ears however, are forever listening,
His arms are forever ready to *huggles* you.

Is it the thought of God? All of a sudden, she feels a burden has been lifted. She feels light enough to fly, to soar…God’s miracles are wonderful, taking on all different colours and forms. She didn’t remember praying...perhaps it was her subconsciousness… does it matter anyhow? For by God’s grace, once more does she feel the warmth of the horizon glowing on her skin…once again, all she wants to say is,

Thank You…

Saturday. One whole week since dad left for hk…miss him soooooooo much!! *sobs* As I previously said, Mum constantly complains that he spoils me too much…I complain that he’s too overprotective. Are the two contradictive?

*scratches head*

I miss playing soccer with him. That is one thing I always miss when he goes back to work in Hk. The week that he was here, we were just kicking around for fun morning and evening. My record is 14 kicks without the ball touching the ground – kewl eh?? At the start of the week, it was only five…. heheh

I miss soccer…I miss primary school…I remember watching those ‘big kids’ playing soccer on the oval in kindy back in sydney whilst my friends and I tried to do handstands against the demountable =)

Then, coming to perth – I remember spending each and every one of my lunch times playing soccer…cathy n me, the ultimate girl duo lolx. I remember the sweat-lined hats and shirts, I remember the angry yells as the year sevens repetitively kicked our ball across to the high school oval. I remember missing/gobbling down lunch just to bag our spot on the oval, and lining up to get the ball from the sports shed. I remember how we used to make do with jumpers as posts if we couldn’t get markers, and [accidentally] kicking the ball into other kids playing on the monkey bars. I remember bruised shins and numb noses, the marks remaining with me till this day… I remember sticking your butt in front of the ball during free kicks [not that anyone would catch me doing that now lolx o.0]…

I remember routinely placing my drink bottle in the freezer the night before during those long hot summer months. And then taking it out immediately as I woke up so a bit of it was melted as I got to school. I remember whacking the whole bottle on the hanging posts so we could all gobble up some crushed up ice during the game. Ice melting on your lips, tongue, down your throat…pure ecstasy…I remember when I ran out, we’d bag the next culprit to share some of their ice…

Hollywood primary to Burrendah…still soccer…

Then…to aishk…the soccer ball was somehow transformed to annoying peoples’ shins *evil grins* lolx heyz suwit! lalaladidah hehehe yes that’s what you get for calling people ‘butcher’! *glares* hahaha

Perhaps it was the leaving home at 7 and getting back at 5 that totally turned my system topsy turvy…who knows. But ever since aishk, I rarely played soccer during weekdays… Then, coming to rossmoyne… my lunch times are now spend in silence, sitting on the grass, staircase, chewing on a sandwich or roll…ever so slowly…just waiting for the bell to signal the end of lunch. Coming to rossmoyne, suddenly there was such a distinct line between ‘guys’ and ‘girls’. Take our physics class for example. Prior to jordi and my migration to the back of the class, the girls took their places in the front few rows, whilst the guys sat on the back, right rows…

I mean, come on – we/they don’t bite, rite??

Thank God I can still find people in youth group to play soccer with… though, they are/have begun to shift to volleyball.. =
Also, mum said that this year, I’ve been turning paler and paler…she keeps forcing me to eat so much food, and I mean the gross chinesey type food like pig liver and chicken dunno-whhat …..ewwwww…..but mum’s like eat eat! Need more colour on you!

I’m not becoming translucent am I? =
Beryl is fading…

*sighies*

I miss everything….

I miss dad…

I miss soccer…

I miss primary…

I miss the feel of prickles stinging your feet...

I miss getting sunburnt.. [o.0]

I miss having too much time to spare…

I miss you…

And I will miss high school so very much too….

mi work~ 

SEMESTER EXAMS OVER!! YAY!!!^^

Two weeks have come and gone, as will the next two weeks of holidays, as will the next two weeks after that… Time will continue to rush towards that elusive destination, regardless of my desperate pleas for it to slow down. How I wish we had a month, a week more to spare before the TEE…

I feel so helpless, not ready for the major exams, not ready to leave high school life behind…It’s a weird feeling. Especially so when at times, I just couldn’t wait to get out of that phony place I admittedly am part of. A phony world where it is merely the level of phoniness that distinguishes one person from the other. Phony – a word stuck in my head a few years ago reading The Catcher in the Rye, a word I had refrained from using until this day for no apparent reason…

However, no matter how hard I plea, the world will continue spinning through its course in space…and inevitably, I will have to sit that long dreaded exam along with thousands of people across the state. I pray that everyone, those who do or don’t read my blog, that you will get at least what you deserve. =) Hmmmerz….sounds a little cliché huh?

These past few weeks, I’ve been chatting with Fritz via friendster. He’s the first person I’ve actually ‘talked’ to through the net without knowing them in person (aside from ‘scribb’ - that ultimate weirdo from willo, gazzas druggie friend whom I deleted off my list after less than five sentences of ‘conversation’).

It’s weird, I feel as though I’ve know him for ages. I’m thinking perhaps it’s a result of aishk’s close-knit school community. Aishk was such a different school to any others I’ve been to. With a mere twenty or so people in each year, it is of little wonder how friendships spanned the year groups…Even though Fritz left aishk before I went there, I remember people talking about him. Not anything bad, just the ‘do you remember…?’ stuff…

However, with non-ex-students (basically those coming in after ais moved to kowloon tong), they still remain alien to me. Not meaning to offend anyone here, but, it’s weird, huh?

*sobs* I miss aishk….but I don’t like Hk… how I wish I didn’t have to waste a whole holiday there. I mean, a few weeks is fine, great in fact. But months?? ….no thanx….

-----------------------------------------------

lys…looks like our paths will never cross again. Not even for that split second on a saturday. dear, though i guess i can’t call you that anymore, stay happy no matter where you are k? i will always be thinking of you, for i have given up on forgetting you…

..come what may [<-- quoted from you], be with her as though there’s no tomorrow, for it is an instant in time that encompasses a whole world... may there never be a door, nor a trespasser ever disturb the lush bristles of grass swaying gently in the breeze of your love…

You hold a stump of something vaguely recognizable. An indiscernible mess of graphite lies before you… Jet against ivory, the stark contrast cuts sharply across your pupils. Yet, you stare at it unrelentingly… challenging it to jump out of the page, to yell at you, to give you a solid whack across your head - what you deserve. You think to yourself, to heck with reality – it’s depressing enough as it is…

Umat results arrived yesterday. Am I seriously that bad at interaction skills?? lol. Now. I am counting on my section 3…99…how I wish my other sections were like that… *sigh* …

You stare blankly at the crumpled pale blue paper…why are you always staring at things nowadays? Is life not worth a glance?

I still have exams to get through. Just one more week…everything is weird ….It’s not the exams I’m worried about…

Then, what is it?

*sigh* …How I wish I knew…

I should be studying, yet I seem to be spending most of my time staring out the window…wondering….about nothing…

I find it such an intriguing thought…how everything we see, feel, hear…they are just made of forces…the smooth touch of this keyboard – merely a repulsion of two forces, which triggers touch receptors along my finger tips – they too are made of forces…and so on….

These very words before me, black and white, and the deep blue of the toolbar beneath – I can only see them because the forces making up this screen absorbs all the other frequencies, the frequencies of light too being a force…Don’t you find it interesting? If were to define ‘anything’ as ‘matter’…then this world is made of nothing! Though…I guess you could say matter is made of forces….which makes me believe I’m going around in circles again...

*whack head myself*

She sits there beside the gnarled tree, palms outstretched before her, her small small palms, where emptiness grew like a clinging vine…its grasp is becoming tighter, and tighter, until she can no longer distinguish between the clinger, and the clung to…

I see you pondering girl...your small palms, they cannot hold much. What are you waiting for, girl? What are you yearning? What is this thing that leaves a trail of nothingness along the vague palm lines before you?

She looks around her, eyes falling upon a tangle of grey thorns. She remembers, remembers how it once bloomed that rich red of passion…

O how you watched lovingly as the buds emerged – they were ever so beautiful, so enchanting. Remember your longing to caress that delicate aroma, a small step closer, and closer, and closer… Remember the apprehension – how you wanted to tear away from its calls, that unfamiliar feeling drawing you nearer, pulling you back…

She remembers...

You watched, captivated, as the petals tentatively unfolded day by day. It grew, satiated by a bonding of two arcs – two halves joining to become the sun, moon, stars, water droplet…a complete circle…

The piercing stare of the thorns become menacing…

What happened?

A voice is heard…two sounds of laughter…the familiarity of one rings in her ears, draws her nearer, uninvited…There is a wall, she sees, she hears…too familiar…Heart pounding, she tears away at the ivy – the door, the door!

The two sounds are fading, together. Come back! The door, door!

…There is no door.



Night has fallen on your side of the wall. You can only sit beside that ancient, gnarled tree, listening for that faintest familiarity carried across a breeze of pain. Where once your rose bush bloomed, it flourishes on the other side.

You listen upon the wind, contentment filling your heart as you hear that familiar voice filled with happiness. However, the rope of anguish pulls taut as you realize it is no longer you who can bring a smile onto that face so familiar to you, yet so distant…Your heart clenches at the thought of not being able to be there, on the same side, comforting that now-shadow in times of sorrow and trouble…

That voice calls out to her once more. Go, it says…be free…

How?

The moon is setting now, shadows of night are fading ever so slowly. She uncurls her fingers, watching the vine beginning to shrivel; she waits…

窗外的太阳，似乎少了一份温暖。鸟儿在树上唱着悲伤的歌曲，令我又想起了他…

光阴似箭，日月如梭，一晃一天又过去了。不知何年何日，他的阴影才会从我脑海里淡淡地消失…

如今，看见他那么自在，那么快乐，我心至少还有那么一份安宁。我，望着窗外那一望无尽的云天，许愿…

我要你很幸福很幸福…
因为你是我在爱情世界里最初的梦。

I’ve wasted two whole days doing nothing, when I should’ve been doing some study, or at the very least – finishing off the calc epw and physics assignment. A few minutes ago, I decided to do my physics assignment, but lo and behold – I lost both my assignment sheet and that objectives sheet. I can vaguely remember that we were supposed to write something about the articles, but my memory stops right there. So annoying…

That’s why I decided to go on the net to dl the objectives…but then I got sidetracked and now I’m here at the blog.

Hmmmerz…tomorrow, going to be piano accompanying at Church. Pastor is such a thoughtful person – I’m pretty sure I was rostered I week or two later, but I’ve been swopped around so I can have more time to study during the exam weeks. Thinking about this…I really should use that time well, eh?

Daddy is coming back in two weeks – yay!!! I thought we weren’t going to see him until the end of this year, but he’s mananged to squeeze a week out of his lecturing which is going to be kewl. Though, it is during my exam week so I doubt we’d be going anywhere. I love annoying my dad – he isn’t ticklish but he is very pinchable, and he sure gets mega annoyed when you pull his hair!! Kekeke…But, I think he annoys me more. Whenever I ask him something, he takes forever to reply. Like, only after five minutes (which is extremely long if you’re the one waiting for a response) – and most of the time, he goes, “huh, what did you say?” ….that can be sooo frustrating!!! Maths on his brain 24/7 …how on earth did mum put up with him all this time?? Hehehe jokin!! =P

My sister got a gigantic fish bowl with two fish from our neighbours a few days ago. One of them, I think she named it ‘cherry’ ….(bleh….my ‘dj-man’ was waaaay better), ANYWays…yeah, it lurves playing deAD! It’s hilarious! I was watching it last night, and it just stopped swimming, and its tail slowly floated up so its whole body was on an angle. Then, after a few minutes, it just starts swimming again as though nothing happened. Meh…the first time, I seriously thought we fed it two much food or something heheh..

Oo yeah, I also applied for uni (finally)…I am still a little uncertain about my last two preferences, though I guess it’s okay ask they are the ‘last’ two. Hmmph. O wellz, I can always change them if I want….

K thatz all…bye!!

Weekend is here…yesterday was a really really nice day…weather was great, everything was great. The only thing I would consider adverse would be the FOUR paper cuts I had one ONE finger >.< ….strange eh? Two of them were from the morning, and then as I came home from school, I noticed a further two…On the scale of paper cuts…they hurt heaps!! But relative to everyhting else, not really worth mentioning hehe…

Anywayz, I was talking on the phone with dad last night, wondering what he knew about fractals. He sparked a pretty interesting thought…because, in the play Arcadia, Thomasina was saying that if you could plot the shape of a leaf, why not a rose? Etc. Now, taking it into simpler terms, we are all able to ‘plot’ a circle n a graph right? WRONG. (well according to some people)

Because, a circle is really just a mathematical concept. The circular shapes you see around the place, even if they are created to one-billionth of a decimal place, if you keep zooming (as you would with a fractal), the irregular boundary of the created circle will become visible to the naked eye. And it won’t fit the exact definition of a circle anymore. Hence its equation thingy is really just a concept.

So, they were saying how it is possible for nature to be written as mathematical equations. It is still very confusing as nature is so complex, and in terms of mathematics, it is very imperfect. We only can see ‘representations’ of mathematical shapes in nature… hmmmmm.

…don’t know what has gotten into me these past few weeks. I’ve been like plunging back into the world I so arduously climbed out of. It’s a suffocating place down there, draws the life out of you and all that’s left is a person even you would hard recognize. When you’re down there, you can’t see anything, not even if it’s right under your nose. It’s pitch black, that’s what it is…I’m making it sound horrible eh?

Well, that all comes down to myself being finally able to tear away again. Now, inhaling the clean sweet air I yearned for, I see how seriously inane I had become.

I thought it was meaningful, something true. Perhaps it was. However, now, the important thing is the tense. Whether it "was" genuine or not, it’s all in the past. People reading my blog, you’d probably notice that I’ve said this a zillion times already. I guess this fact had not sunk in deep enough previously. Or, should I say I was still unwillingly to let it sink in.

However, this time it’s for real. And I mean it.

You know, last week, I was, I was half asleep when I was thinking about how language/communication works. Or more precisely, how do you explain feelings? Emotions? How are each feeling triggered? I kept thinking and thinking about it, until my brain couldn’t hold anymore thoughts. It was freezing cold when I got up to write something down, and I ended sitting at my desk writing in circles…

I was thinking, are ‘feelings’ caused by nerve impulses in your brain? Like, you’re "imagining" them? Imagining – in the sense that they are factual, that you literally feel whatever emotion you have, but they are just triggered by nerve impulses in your brain, which in turn may triggers muscles like your heart to clench tight. The mind can be such a powerful instrument. Drugs wouldn’t pose as big a problem in our society today if it weren’t for their mind-controlling properties, which in turn controls so many other things.
According to chemistry, everything is made up of atoms, which are made up of electrons, neutrons, etc, which are all supposedly forces. Your brain is made up of these atoms. The nerve impulses are created by the movement of these forces

(Just thinking…movement of a mass is caused by forces, but the mass is made up of atoms, forces…I’m going around in circles…do forces cause another force to move? But isn’t movement a resultant of a force?..errrr…okay, I am confused…=\) ANYWAYZ, what was I saying..?

yeah, okay so. Feelings are created by forces? That just seems so ‘not right’ to me. Logical in the scientific sense, yes I can see how it could all come down to forces. However, emotions can be so complicated…it is hard to believe that they can be created by such a simple thing as a force. But I haven’t really learnt much about forces, so perhaps forces aren’t such a simple matter. For one thing, I don’t even know how they are created. If we keep digging into it…we get the chicken and egg story. This just shows our limitations as humans. Also, if forces are the basis of creation (only God knows this answer, unless He wishes us to have a little insight into the matter...), then they are doing a pretty damn good job in this exceptionally complex world. Okay…here I go again…drifting away from what I was going to write about…now I have to re-read everything…k.

I was thinking, everyone experiences different emotions. When someone is happy, most would say that their happiness is to some extent varied from another person’s happiness. However, how are we to know this? I would say the most accurate form of communication between people to date is still through language. And I believe this is precisely where the problem lies.

Everyone’s vocabulary is varied. Mine, as you can see, is pretty =\ and often, I find it hard to use a word that describes exactly how I feel. You’re ‘happy’ could very well be someone else’s ‘so-so’. You see, I think that the development of language has evolved with our way of thinking and feeling. And this is changing constantly. Possibly, one’s brain assigns quite a few similar patterns of nerve impulses under a certain word, with many overlaps due to the limitations of our brain’s memory capacity. This may be how we learn language. I guess this has served us quite well over these thousands of years – Newton and, Einstein’s thoughts have been able to be passed on to us less-able beings over the years – all through language.

Wouldn’t it be great though, if we could transfer thoughts and ideas in a more accurate way? Like, is there a possibility of monitoring the nerve impulses within your brain, storing it on a computer, and being able to reproduce it on another brain. If the nerve impulses are currents, is it possible to induce them magnetically? Of course, putting a fridge magnet on your head doesn’t make you go psycho or anything.

However, if you were able to control the path of a super strong magnetic field, and somehow induce a pattern of nerves impulses within someone else’s brain - then you are able to transfer the exact thoughts to the second person! Perhaps sometime we could dispose of mobiles and use this as a basis of silent communication…

I know I have been saying that our present form of communication is inadequate (Consider how our ability to process complex forms of language which supposedly places us at the very tip of the ‘animal’ pyramid. Then, imagine the heights we may attain if an even more accurate form of communication is created...)
I also know even more that I am a long long long way off ever mastering a vocabulary that is a fraction of Shakespeare’s’. So, why am I dissatisfied with communication through present day type language when I have yet to see it used effectively?

Perhaps I’m just pure lazy. I cannot see myself ever being able to express myself accurately with words, no matter how much effort I put in trying to. I just don’t have enough GB within my brain.

So, yeah, let’s just use computers to do the work for us…which is exactly what we have been doing since the invention of the silicon chip. (that applic EPW last week…no calculators allowed… that was like pure torture!! Not surprising though when one takes into account that mr. birell set the test hehe anyways) Let computers create a new language using the binary sumber system for us. Instead of having one word to cover many similar patterns of nerve impulses, let the computer save each and every single one under a binary code. Then, duplicate it onto someone else’s brain so that they too can share your ‘exact’ thoughts.

This way, misunderstandings can be minimized. And I’m wondering what effects this highly accurate form of communication will have on human development? I’m not naive though. This all could be put to immoral use. But there must be a way to prevent someone hacking into the whole system…or not?
I wouldn’t know, not being sophisticated enough with computing systems (as you can see by the plainness of this blog…though plain can be nice right? =) hehe)
However, I see an even bigger problem with my idea. I don’t know enough about how our brains function to verify anything in particular. As I was saying though, our brains are continually evolving. My idea has been based on the assumption that a certain feeling or thought, being unique, has its own set of nerve impulse patterns. A set of patterns that never change. Is that the case?
If it isn’t, then are we able to prevent these changes? To answer this question, one must first examine what causes it to change…

So many questions…I feel as if I have reached nowhere. Yet, at the same time, I feel as though I have taken a step somewhere. Thoughts and emotions are so complicated. If what I was describing could be created, then I would be able to record exactly how I’m feeling right now, and be able to understand exactly how I felt at this time much later on.

There’s this Chinese saying I learnt – xue ya wu hai – knowledge has no boundaries.

I can so appreciate that at this moment. There’s just so much out there - and it’s there all right - waiting to be learnt…and, once you ‘think’ you’ve figured something out, there are just so many more questions to be answered…

In one of my previous blog, I think I was alluding to this idea. However, the progammable brain notion stumped me. like, wouldn’t we be just like robots?

Well, now I have an answer, but as with all answers, I’m not sure if it’s validity can hold. However, it will do until someone else comes up with an rebuttal.

You see, this idea is similar to the type of language we have in place today. Just more accurate. For example, when I say the word ‘apple’ in English, my brain or another person’s brain gets the signals through the ears, and immediately, a set or sets of nerve impulses are triggered within the brain – all to help you brain get a measure of what this ‘apple’ is.

However, what about intangible things? Like feelings? Or complex thoughts. You can try to word them (as I’m sure Eintein, Newton, Hawkings did) But with my new method, the nerve impulses triggered are way more accurate. Instead of ears and mouths being the sending and receiving primary instruments, we have the a new set of devices which I don’t know how to make, but it is possible in the future..
---
okay….i think I wrote too much. Seee….i’m not really articulate enough to simplify my ideas down to it’s basics….anway…I just realised something. It’s weird. It was lys who led me onto this path of thinking. I never realised the power of words, of language until he appeared. Even doing two years of lit…

One thing we are told is that a text has multiple meanings. It is this quality that makes a text so universally accessible. – does this go against my idea? Nah, I don’t think so. As I also said previously, chaos isn’t what makes the world interesting. It is the method of putting some order admist this chaos that gives the satisfaction.

Been preparing for tomorrow’s lit essay. It seems, that I have this thing with blogging and lit – If I don’t have to go do lit afterwards, i’ve just finished it. Weird. Hehe..anywayz, I was replying to andrew… I don’t know whether I was much of a help or not…

Admittedly, I feel quite down myself at times…especially when I’m on the internet because somehow, I’m always tempted to look at lys’ stuff on friendster, and i’ll see how he really likes her. Though, I’m actually happy for him. They seem to be really happy together. I don’t know, it’s just this knot I sometimes get when I think about him. I’ve tried moving on, and though most of the time is seems like I have, other times it’s just…

Yars…there are times when I also just want to run away. Away from everything I know. But yes, we can’t. I tell myself, there are so many people out there, probably even in my year my school, that feel the same way. If we all ran away, what would become of this world? Yeah, I guess, it’s the hope, the hope that something good will cross my path in life, that keeps me going on. But people ask. What if there’s no hope? I thought that once. More than once. Heh. But, that’s is just so silly. Really, it is. I don’t know how to explain, but honestly, our life is so short on earth. Once this year, this week, this day passes…we will never be able to revisit it again. So, just make the most of everyday, of what you have…(now I’m beginning to sound like Donne in the Sunne Rising – is that the name of the poem? Forgot…heheh)…. Yes…that’s what I was attempting to tell Andrew, but gave up because didn’t know how to say it and ended up deleting the whole thing. It’s also what what I tell myself. Yet it’s ironic, as I still feel down at times…

For Chinese, we have to do this play…I had a difficult time coming up with a topic. The old ‘tarzan’ script that was written-but-never-performed was an option, but george had always gone like this ?! to it… except this time, he didn’t mind anymore but I wanted to do something else. I suggested that instead of acting, do more talking…like…we all talk about what we’d do if one day, time stopped…and then, go on and talk about what we’d do if time could be reversed. That idea was fortunately/unfortunatley accepted. Fortunately, because after two whole doubles (i.e. 4 periods) we finally have a topic. Unfortunately, because I have no idea what I’m going to say. Especially since it’s in class.

I don’t know…where on earth did I come up with that topic? Come to think of it…it’s not logically possible for time to be stopped…like, well, not enough for anyone to do anything. Like, if time could be reversed, it would for that instance stop, but only for an infinitely small instance. …Yet…there are times in life where time seem to stop. Or speed up amazingly fast. Time can play such tricks on people. Time…it is humans who created such a concept. And during it’s creation, they made it linear. Hence, how can it be reversed unless you change its definition?

Arrghh…so…what am I supposed to say? I guess it doesn’t have to be logically feasible. Ling said she’d rob a bank lol. So, are we assuming in this play that when time stops, everything else apart from yourself freezes with it? if that’s the case…hmm…still don’t know what I’d do. Hmmm…if, and only if no one else can notice you, I’d go find lys. Jiu zhi kan zui hou yi ci. That’d be what I do. However, as if I’d say that in class.. *sighz*….

Think zoe…think…

Or maybe I’d just say that it’s illogical for that phenomenon to occur. Nice and short. Don’t have to say anything else. "zhe shi bu ke neng de shi…" There are so many bu ke neng de things out there in the world. so many. We are just so limited in everything…knowledge…control of our emotions…

Everything just comes down to thinking and feeling. But for some things, there is no reason. Feelings… faith. Like in that poem ‘batter my heart’…though its dominant reading seems to be on about faith versus reason…it’s just so relevant to everything else. Reason…

I wonder what controls our emotions? Like, how do those nerves within our body, our brain’s transfer of messages, how are they linked with feelings? It must be a complicated mess in there…that brain of ours…if it wasn’t, then, someone would’ve already deciphered everything, all those nerve impulses happening around a billion times a second (I don’t know…I’m just guessing here okay?) when someone feels happy. And, if someone had done that, what’s the point to life anymore? We’d be programmable, like computers… things could be predicted long before they were due to appear. The mystery of life would be unveiled.

And life itself would become meaningless…

Then, why am I still so interested in attempting to decipher these messages? Our world is a chaotic mess. People can try spend their whole life trying to place some sense of order within the chaos. We have this thing for order in our lives. Yet, it is the chaos that makes everything interesting…so why’s that the case?

I was doing lit oral just then…but I’ve stopped. I feel so unsettled at the moment….i don’t know why. Okay, perhaps I do, but arrghh…I don’t know. Just then, I was typing my lit oral draft, after dinner, when mum asked me if I was okay. I was like waht?! ….*sigh* ….i didn’t realise anything was wrong with me, or did I? Is there something wrong? I don’t know. I came straight home today and slept until dinner. Ate dinner. Then went to computer. There’s nothing wrong with that right? I was even talking with connie in applic about sleeping, It isn’t an abnormal thing to do right?

Or maybe it’s just me. Because I usually don’t. Only either when I’m sick, or something else. This time it’s the something else. omg. I’m seriously just like repeating myself. Perhaps I’m just trying to avoid what is bothering me. Yet, I don’t think this time it will work. haiz….okay. I’ll get to the point.

The thing is, when mum asked me that question, I just suddenly realised how unsettled I was inside. I felt so…arrrghh…I don’t know the word to describe it. I feel like curling up in my bed again…and never coming out. It’s like, there’s something pressing onto me. It’s suffocating…. And this seriously scares me…

Do I want to write about this?…sorry….it just seems so weird. Me writing all this stuff. But I want to get it out of me. I don’t want to talk to anyone about it…just writing about it will help… hopefully…haiz…

Was at library doing lit. Yes, as you can, I posted something earlier on today…if you’re reading this…sorry…I don’t know why I’m in this strange, strange mood. I was just randomly showing jordi lys’ friendster thingy…and then that pic…

…and then I’m in this weird mood again…

…yars…people who did umat, probably can see that there is a HUGE gap in the logical connection between a pic and a change in mood. One that I won’t fill, because it’s my secret…secrets…everyone has their own secrets. Whether they realise it or not. There are just some things you can only tell to someone really really close…hmmm….I won’t go into umat stuff. O yeah, and btw. Umat is over. And you know what? I think preparing for umat has put me into a study mode for this term…which is good I guess…

…*sigh*…whenever I say ‘I guess’…brings back more memories…I used to always say those two words…until lys said to me one day, ‘u guess??’. It was like. Weird. At that time. Now? I don’t see anything that’s weird about it. Or maybe there is. Because, I’m not guessing that study mode is good…it’s more like I know it’s good….

err….huh? okay….heh I have just confused myself.

bleh. >.<

k,

I’m going to end this post here. and hopefully my strangeness can end here with it.

 

School starts tomorrow, and umat the day after. Time is going by so fast. I was looking at the school diary the other day to check if I really do have the day off today (and yupz^^ I did/do…or duh…wouldn’t be here right now heh) anywayz…and yeah, I happened to notice that the mocks are this term!! =\ I SO totally didn’t know that…it’s like…woah…too fast……and then. There’s like only 2 weeks or something of school in term 4! so this is really like the lst term…..last term of yr. 12, of high school…forever…

That’s a scary thought. You know you’ve been expecting it all this time, and perhaps even looking forward to it. (not tee of course =P duh….the holidays!!^^ hehe plus leaving school..) But then, it just feels weird, when I think about it. I don’t exactly know how to explain it, but it just does. I never felt this way before with my transition from primary to high school. But maybe that was because I never did…you see, the few weeks in yr. 7 at burrendah was still in primary…and then, before I knew it, I was in yr. 7 high school at aishk….then, probz the new people, new place and everything was more of a change than primary to secondary school…

Time….yeah… I did say it’s flying past. Yet, these holidays seem to have been the longest yet for this year. I don’t know why. See, there are so many questions out there, so many unexplainable things…they just ….‘are’. I’ve also been having the weirdest dreams ever. Especially during the last week. lys kept on chu xian…it was just…weird…kan bu jian ta de lian or anything…but it’s just like those times when you ‘know’ it was them….weird….

During times like these, you just suddenly feel so not in control. I mean, okay. I accept you can’t control ni de xin – like, you can try to suppress them or whatever, but if they are there, they’re there. BUt you can control the mind, your mind. You can trick it to think one way by means of repetition…you keep hammering that thought that keeps recurring until it has become a million pieces…and each piece gets smaller and smaller…until they seem to disappear…smaller..further away…and then finally…you’re left with a blank space…then… you can fill that blank space with whatever you want…other people’s problems, school work…umat.

Everything is going along fine. Until. At night, when you’re in that place where you can escape from reality and its problems….you meet up with it smack bang on the head. It’s just so jhg;uhajngad@&^8ayt78!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! >.<

Who says that life is fair? – I think I once told lys that. Past memories are blurring so rapidly it’s hard to imagine that I’m still only 17…heh yahz…..that was a bitter laugh aiii…why do I tell others that when it seems like I’ve forgotten it myself? perhaps I should make it my motto. Then I wouldn’t keep looking back…back to…. seee…..I am seriously being so pessimistic. I wasn’t like this before. haiz…

Sometimes…I just wish I was back in good old primary school again. In those days…everything was just so simple. At school, the only problem you had each day was to try and finish lunch b4 the other groups so you could bag your spot on the oval for soccer. heheh yarz….all the way back in nedlands…making a trail of poison berries for the fairies to follow on the back home ….omg…so stupid but so meeee…

*sigh* no…I’m not exactly saying I want to be a ten year old or whatever again. no wwway. Wo zhi shi xiang yao hui wo zi ji.

where has it gone…?
 

 
 

Haven't been on the net for a while...but it’s holidays right now! yippee!!^^ I had a nice time at the ball – the decorations were really nice! Especially the candles and those star balloons...except the wax kept on dripping onto the table. Ben was really sweet as well =) \ like when he tied on the corsage and pulled back my chair heheh...thanx!^^

Actually, I’m really hesitating to write about the ball. You see, sometimes, nice moments in life are best left as memories – for my limited vocabulary list coupled with my awful writing skills often diminishes the whole thing. I guess this has its good side – when you’re upset, or mad, writing stuff down makes it all so simple, so insignificant. And then you begin to believe that it is, and then you begin to feel better..

anywayz, i have to go now coz i'm only allowed on for 5 min - bye!

life is one boring confusing mess. exams are over. i should be enjoying myself....that's what you'd think. sigh...then...why do i feel this way? ...nothing ever goes right. okay...mebbe once in a while..but haiz..i dunno. actually. what do i want to happen? *shrugs* honestly...when i ask myself this question... my mind is a total blank. therez so many things. but out of my reach. i used to be able to reach them in my dreams...day dreams...whatever you want to call them. but...lately...i feel as though there's no point anymore...reality cannot be changed. you have to take whatever that comes. yet...sometimes...i feel as though i've just had enough. enough of all this aimless wandering. sure. there's always nice flowers, scenery, etc to look at along the sidepaths of life. however, there always comes a time when you realise that they all are just the same things disguised in different shapes and colours. to distract you...to numb anything that needs numbing..to blur whatever you wished weren't there...

only then do u realise that reality is reality. there's no escaping.

only then do u cry and cry and cry...but then realise there's no more tears left inside of you...they've just dried up along with the past..

past. present. future. is there a difference? i'd like to think so. but how? someone...tell me..if there is someone out there that is...