Deck the halls with cries and follies.

Hilariously, the Christmas of this year's was celebrated by sirens and plentiful of policemen with statements taken down and not to mention, loss of numerous pricey possessions. So say goodbye to my beloved iPod nano, and tons and tons and tons. I spun a web of lies. Lies to protect someone, lies to blind the officials, lies to call bluff my family, perhaps even lies to commemorate myself, that what I was doing was worthwhile, what I have lost was nothing as compared to what I should gain, even when turkey and ham were sitting with the pretty condiments on your dinner table, while I was trying hard to chase what should be rightfully mine from a nonage with malice.

Ponder on for now, what have I gained. I keep you warped up, safe from dirty pointing fingers, yet what I received at the other end of this truth-proof shield was a finger pointing back at me. I tried to gently adjust this finger elsewhere, justifying every single act that I have conducted, every white harmless lie or even plain angry words that I have conveyed. Alas, no matter how much I have done was proven futile. So I hide in my dark cave and chose solitude, harbouring the only thought that you would come one day to save me. And this thought butterflied into a Faith which I thought nevertheless would come true somehow, because Faith was what I have in you initially, and all this while.

The rocks of the walls of my cave came tumbling down like big drops of poison landing hard on my frail body. I was locked from the inside and I had no strength at all to move the big drops of poison away from me. So I chose alcohol smacked for days to while away, still there's no signs of empathy or even sympathy. To brighten up the days of the others', the grace I could do was to only utter hypothetical laughters that I forcefully had to choke them out of my lungs, smiles that I had to try so backbreaking to fake, deluding myself that, yes I am indeed happy. At last and finally the wait was over, to be greeted by yet another delay, another procrastination of hushes and words which should be rightfully said, and heard. Which now, my cries of help and bawls could only be heard in inharmonious echoes ringing and endlessly in this dark alcohol reeked cave. And I have no one I could whine to, I could talk to, because the ultimate reason I am still holding onto is to keep you safe.

I have myself wondering all the time. And I read Wenny's blog and understood the gnomics which she was trying to say for her case and I can totally relate how she is feeling right now to how I am fucking myself up right now. The only difference is, she has chosen her heart to be remained on a stasis for someone, yet I have opened up mine to someone else not Bennett. Amusingly, both of us are still ironically identical though. Stranded, and standing on a gelid rock on naked feet, with vast waves of unrest turmoils trying to drown ourselves. Thank God I have my anti depressants and my sleeping aid, which apparently can't last me till my next session with my beloved shrink.

Who says Loving is easy? Who did say that it's the most wonderful thing on earth? Perhaps it could have been. When both parties are still in doubt of what the precarious tomorrow may bring. I have thought that love begets forgiveness. However all that I am seeing now is, I am the biggest fool on earth to be still standing firmly by my own belief until today, this very moment. To have seen, and felt the pain of so many around, I wonder whether if it does exists now. We so hope we'd be loved by the person we love. We sway so much in the winds of dilemma between to stay or to leave. Every night without fail, we muster up enough courage to whisper Goodbye. Every morning we wake up in a tremor like a heart brought back to life by shocks of electrifying noises. Our eyes open, greeted by nothing but the whiteness and emptiness of the ceiling, tears will no longer flow, because it's at that very moment, the heart breaks within fragments and pieces, that it no longer calls out for neurons of sorrow.

Do we look back one day down memory lane and look at all the rotten apple trees? At the end of the road, which tree would be the one standing strong against the winds of uncertainties and precariousness? We never know. Not until it's over, and we realise the rotten ones even existed.

"Desperate for changing

Starving for truth

Closer to where I started

Chasing after you"

Heart.

A conversation which was delayed and procrastinated for a reason. A reason so apparent which two different individuals were so blinded to see when the surly dark clouds gradually skyed the whole horizon of grey for the sands of time of years. The reason being, it did happened. It was there. It is still there. Captured like a thriving firefly in a crystal clear cognitive chamber.

And it will remain this way, finally, forever.

Touched to tears,

of joy,

and plain ignorance of unintentional pain inflicted.

We survive and live.

We remember.

We, indeed.

Try.

I should say, this spot I am standing on right now, is the verge, the limit to everything I can take. Struggled between she and she, I do not even know who I am. No matter who I am, I do not seem to make anything right. So the more I try, the more I cry. Until I couldn't take it, I inflicted the last, the deepest wound made flesh. Scars are histories written on your body but those could never amount to those inflicted upon the heart. And this human heart looks like a fist and is pumping with blood.

With my pool of blood on the floor, won't you even realise how vulnerable I am even if I keep trying to portray that I am strong enough to see through everything? Yet I am just so tired. And all I can do, is to muster this least bit of remaining strength I have got within my very basic skeletal to keep moving on, keep breathing. I can only fight alone, and I am fighting alone.

Words enveloping my world, eradicating all I shouldn't be doing, all I should not be. Do I even sway my ground and mimic myself into someone who is ultimately not myself? Or should I be a mendicant for all sympathy and hope for empathy? And the least bit of understanding that I should truly deserve from all whom claimed love, claimed relation.

My insomnia has got me on doped, and so am I relying on anti depressants. Yet, the dissonance in this cognitive chamber of mine, keeps functioning in such an inharmonious way in which I have no control over, and I lost myself in a black hole. I do know, they say it's up to myself. But what if myself is so damaged till it's so near to extirpation that any trip of spark is enough to fan yet another amber in my Life?

I comprehend the precariousness of tomorrow, but with this bit of respect and immaculate Love I have remaining for you, I've blinded myself of everything you are doing. I am still making myself believe that every artifice about you is lyrically ethereal. This is Faith. Yet, you forcefully sucked every breath of Faith I have into a perdition so caliginous, so bottomless that I find impossible to feel a dead end with my outstretched arms. You came with a begging plead last night. So who did my pleads of mercy called out to when I was sprawled undone? We don't grace each other, we never did.

Pellucidly, we'll both snap each other, cry bitterly into each's embrace and lay dead on where we rightfully started off from.

-AT

The surly season has hit Singapore again. But hey, Christmas is just around the corner. We should all perk up and wait for this lovely (favorite of mine!) day to arrive. Past years' Christmas was spent with my dearest ex lover who is much of a Casanova wannabe now. Hah. Sorry DG. Speaking of which, he is such a nutcase that he thought I still meant ba[B]y when I called him B the other day. To just dampened his ever-growing ego, I had explained that my text was exceeding one, so just typed B. Frankly speaking, his initial's a B wat! Wth. I offered to exchange prezzie with this Nutcase and he was like saying... Okay, but my prezzie would be less than 5. How realistic can this guy get?

I look at things at different angles. I reckon I am made this way, not because I am really designed to inflict my morbid fascination onto my thoughts. Been such a little girl for so long, I think it's time I grow up. I should grow up. And still act young at the meantime. Hah.

Like what this special person has once said, there are more to love. Though we tend to be clouded by this very word, we should try to look at things the bigger picture way all the time. Sometimes, love just ain't enough isn't it? We made mistakes, said words we never meant to mean, we do not fathom the gravity behind these words. They could carry pain, hurt, joy, or perhaps just hollowness. And I, as a human, I do have my fair share of mistakes. Mistakes I wish I never had done, mistakes that I still feel regretful up till this day. But I am just learning. Learning to be responsible for my own actions, and words that I have once carelessly said. So Karma isn't only about one party cheating on one party hey! Sighs. It's always too late to do something about something isn't it?

I have no idea why I am so composed now. I did bawled like a little kid who lost his favorite teddy bear a moment ago. I guess, I am normal. I picked myself up, took a long shower, and started to see things which ain't warped in my world. I do not blame, nor do I point my lousy finger. It takes two hands to clap for all the things that have happened. I know I play a major role for the way things turn out today. And he is just the supporting cast. To keep harping on how difficult it is for two out of 9 billion to meet and fall in love is a sentimental thought. I am not the only one in this world. I am just a little pea out of 9 billion peas. The thought of losing him may hurt now, but hey, we've all been through this. And we know that Time will prove everything. Doesn't matter who's right/wrong, who's done more, who's given more. The only thing which matters, is that it once existed. Goshie, I sound so positive now I think I am disgusting myself. I need to puke.

The pain of truth, we find it hard to shake that all the time. I don't like to quote cliches because I feel that they are way too overused. So I never allow myself to even say what won't kill you would only make you stronger. I believe what won't kill you would only make you funnier. Hah. And they usually says, when God closes one door, He opens up another. I thought "When God closes one door, He tends to slam the rest in your face." sounds perky and quite real. I don't mean to be pessimistic. I just thought I would be realistic for once. C'mon. Life isn't always a bed of beautiful roses. You never know what seeds God accidentally (perhaps on purpose) planted. Being too optimistic doesn't help you to grow at all. It just hinders your progress of being sensitive. Duh!

The world is full of ugly things that you can't change. Pretend it's not that way, is my idea of faith.

The very fact that I know I'll live, is the only thing I would need now to look forward to the future. Meanwhile, I will still attend my medicals. To rid myself of Chrissy, and never let her come back into my life again.

Okay I am so sleepy now. Time to cuddle pillows!

=)

Lil star.

I blind myself of the things I couldn't bear to see. I know how I am like, so I choose to sway now. My soul would be wandering ever again, I know I would never come to a rest.

So like what Harry's been taught, in order to perform a pratonus charm, I thought about the happy things.

I thought of what DG said, when I pulled him out to shop for my last V day prezzie, "I could just give you 500 bucks and let you shop till you are tired, but just let me sit down have a coffee, smoke my lungs away and wait can?!" I couldn't help but to burst out in laughter. Aww... Darn it. Still owes me a trip to the pet shop and katong chicky rice can. /sneers

I am feeling so shagged out after all the episodes. I don't wish to be fantasizing about things anymore neither would I wanna live in delusion. I do not wish to live in my made beliefs. I have had enough of my own nonsense. It's time I get myself healed and cured, attend my medicals, and myself.

Shopping with Fish never felt better! We sashay on the same fashionista thread! Everywhere is having Xmas sale! Guess, Marciano, AX and etc. Just prepare your credits! Bah! I swear to own this White dress I saw at Marciano! It is only like 95 buckaroos? Hmm... ROAR!

This post is very $^YT^#$%. And I like it, totally!

-this SIA girl is diggin me. Awww....

The other side of the story.

I can't do it anymore.

I need to land my pride.

It's cold.

As if he would read this.

Pointless.

An invidious affair.

I love baking. To me, baking is a process of understanding yourself. Unlike cooking, which everything has to be fast, precise on the dot. The process of baking involves much patience and meticulousness. From the preparation of the mix, the beating of the eggs, the adding of ingredients, the wait of the outcome, every part of the process, is worth a little fantasy to be aroused, a bit of my brain to wander about. Or perhaps, this brain of mine just requires a little more time to churn, which so explains I can't cook.

I found this Oreo Cheesecake recipe, which I gladly name it, Snow on a Stove.

Later then, I found out that he is fond of Crimson, I then looked up for Strawberry cake recipes, and have decided to name the one I am going to bake, A Crimson Cavalcade, an appropriate name for what has been going around, about us I guess.

I thought everything is within my control. I had imagined the loveliest, and dreamt of magic. To great disappointment of so many around me, I have to confess that I can never be a realist. Which is why, I chose to shun, because I know I have failed. And it's pointless for me to justify, or explain. I don't plan to get anyone involved, ultimately, I know it's only I who has to be answered to. Even if I ended up damaged, I don't want to permit myself to have anyone to blame, but myself.

My ex lover commented how I am such a believer in the whole ideology of love. That I am still living in my own world, and how I can be such a sweet girl if I can be less emotional. I find his words extremely contradicting. Funnily, why would he even want to express his regrets for not appreciating me a little more back then if he thinks I am like that.

I don't know how to feel now. I can't even express how I feel inside right now. I believe there's a jet lag involved, this is such a lame self-consolation. And I like it.

I can't help but wait. As long as I wish to surrender my heart, to see you, for what you really are. What can I do, or rather what am I supposed to do. I keep coming up with arguments to resist those which has been ringing endlessly, time and time again. Simple yet, provocative arguments like the handing of the numerous prized possessions, the look in your eyes the day I walked away, the kiss. Is my naked heart sensing what I only want to feel? Or is this self-delusion that intense to blind me of the crystal clear truths? And am I wrong at all to express my doubts after everything that has happened which propels to question my own confidence?

I have been told that I am a mystery novel myself. I so wish to be read like an open book. Turns out, I got caught in a suspense thriller.

A beauty;

of the ethereal side,

materialised a baleful vision.

plunged a devious kiss,

thief'd the doleful soul,

a bottomless perdition;

I hereby dwell.

where do I land my pride?

Today.

Cleavage.doll.no inordinate self fascination.

Ben. jackass.grinned.how she might feel.im evil.but yay!

Spoof NYDC @ Heeren.lala croft tuna salad.ran like punks.

reminder.daric su.wtf?!

STS.im a stalker.

im a bitch,punk,psycho.

talk in riddles.

We went feasting.

Got nabbed for eating ice cream during winter.

A dog affair between a sadist and a masochist.

And I swear I look like Cartman in my winter coat.

Camwhored while waitin for the big feast.

Then it's to SG for doctor, and back.

Perhaps.

She recumbent awake.

Flickering flames she eyes,

her mind is somewhere far away.

Dressed in her favourite black dress,

the belief of being black,

yet her heart's painted white.

Distantly, she hears hymns.

Alas, in her heart sings a requiem.

They have gathered, for the feast.

A soul held repose.

She whispers,

"Now that your rose is in bloom,

a light hits the gloom on the grey."

the same skies,

the same moon,

the same stars.

us, living by days,

the same patch of cloudiness.

the same ticking hands,

alas, distance never felt this empty.

I am a liar,

yet again, once.

Hi there. I am a ninja in pink.

It started as crankiness last Sunday. I didn't think much why I was acting this way, I soon realised that it's my body sending lil signals to my mind that I was going down. So it happened. My body is officially rejecting every minerals and nutrients I forcefully tried shoved em down my throat. I didn't know how in sync my mind is with my body until today.

I know I am far from becoming who I've always wanted me to be. Too far to be exact. But this one thing I know, is that I am changing. From the damaged mind I once had, to a brand new one. That morbid interest should never be included in my profile again, the blade shall never be raised again. Afterall, isn't what this soul vacation should be?

All thanks to the endless puking, I suppose I have thrown up every bad I had.

The weather now, the color of the sky reminds me so much of that evening... When Lisa Ono was playing, when it was dark, and lonely. Then I remembered what I was thinking, it's me. On what I have been through, and when would I be able to throw them all behind. I doubted my capability, not until this morning greeted me.

I very much wish to wake up to my family, but I knew what I was offered. The thoughts of laughter embraced me like a million gold dust sprinkled all over. I know I am loved no matter who I am, no matter what I have been through. I know me.

I started to ponder on dreams, how I have confused dreams with Life. Dreams of your own are for yourself solely to keep, and that dreams that everyone is giving us are just merely games of risks and chances. If I were to live in dreams created by you, would I be accused of being hypothetical? Or would you adore me because I am willing to be part of your fantasy...

I thought of my favorite thing to do back home. To sit by with my favorite tropical passion latte, to while time away while watching onlookers. To listen to the speeches they were having, to see those looks on their faces, to observe and to understand. I somehow feel now, that to understand everyone around us, is such taxing chore to do. That is, if that someone doesn't wish to be comprehended, no matter how much penetration, it's us who would end up being baffled. I will finally, put my mind to rest, and to let everything settles on me, instead of chasing them.

-Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Ave Maria

The same ambience now, without my bed, without my curtains, not within my comfort zone. No one there to tell me that dinner's ready, no squeals of hunger, no one to whisper I love you. Faith isn't something to keep. It's shared by two parties, and that when one is having, one is not, it becomes a mere word. I have Faith in myself and you, which I thought I have the ability to be forgiving, and I had thought it isn't one sided. The vital truth hits me. I have finally stripped myself of everything I once were with my crimson hands. The Time intertwined but yet, ticked us by.

My emotions and thoughts, crystal clear and calm as water. Alas, to great dismay, they are for me to seal up now; my heart.

I couldn't control the sleek eyes from watering, I stood rooted.

Mono.

I went to the doc today again. It's the third time of the week. She had wanted to inject me again and if I had the strength to run, I would have. So I gave her a miserable look...

The look on her face was so funny today.

I had to curb those lil giggles.

I climbed over a fence.

I heard laughters.

Words.

The nastiest a human brain could even make up.

They damage and kill.

And when they are made flesh.

Based on memories.

Stood in the middle of everything

Passes so quickly

Cars, not trains

Strangers, and mere mortals

And I stood and kicked out each step

Every laughter I have had

Every faces that I know

Clouded my thoughts

I felt so alone

Seclusion aroused

Secured in my own world

That I felt

Solitary trees, if they grow,

Grow strong.

Macau.3

Photos! Sorry guys! Didn't walk around Macau! These are what I have, the rest are all in videos. ^^

Converse all around Macau.

Taipa actually.

Syndicate busted! We specially arranged those notes and took this photo to mimick those in crime watch. LOL.

It's been almost a week here. And I must say, I am getting used to living here. Though work hasn't really started officially, but I am assigned to the busiest lobby in my hotel next monday! Which is like... DUHZ! /mimicks Duty Manager Gary I swear I am the clown when I mimick every lil gestures of his man! The guys love it!

Met new friends. We've had laughs. New faces everywhere, My hotel is this massive till we have over 200 over nationalities working together. As for the number of employees, I ain't sure. But Gary mentioned that the departments don't coordinate with one other. Big problem eh! /sighs I seriously wish Gary to be my mentor man.

Beyonce is here to perform in the 15,000 seat arena! Very disappointed I couldn't get any free tickets to watch her! /Arghhhhhh

I think I was right on saying when there's no love, there's no pain. Hah.

I would never know what I would be able to achieve unless I step out of my comfort zone isn't it?

And it's my off tomorrow! Off to China, here we go!

[edit]

I derive that the people here are total worse than bullcrap.

Chinese are the rudest people on earth and they should belong to Pluto.

P/S I am a chinese. Yes I know!

ARGHHHHHH!

KILL KILL KILL!

Macau.2

Fifth night at Macau. And I swear I am a shivering hen already. The wind here is crazy. And the people here is... OMFG. Seriously when I mentioned to my temporary duty manager that the service standard here is bad, he said that there's no standard at all. *He is a hongkie. You must have thought I have the audacity to even say something like that, but seriously, I am not lying, he sweared curses like fcuk, bullshit, asshole while he conducted our training.

Ah, the only thing which I think my hotel's great is the food served at the staff canteen. It is an international buffet at breakfast, lunch and dinner. I should be losing weight hey! And yes, though Macau may look really down and slumps-like, the stuffs here are pricey. It's the same as those in Singapore and the only thing cheap is the ciggies! To even want to quit smoking here is like insanity can. It's only 17 buckaroos in MOP. Which means it's less around 3 bucks SGD? Huh... To eat here is more expensive than smoking okay.

Okay. My cantonese still sucks. Though I can pronounce the 6 tones for the words, but I can't phrase what I had always wanted to say in a full sentence. /sulks


I miss Singapore.
Everyone.
Everything.

Esp my baby.

Macau.1

depressing,

solitude,

seclusion.

loves.

faith.

pray.

baby.

only person who knows.

:)

A full stop and an open statement.

They say time flies in a twinkling of an eye. Perhaps we could blink our eyes a thousand times and see what God has in store for us.

I'll be there as soon as I am.

Wasted on Moet Chandon!

Thank you Lovelies for giving me such a glamourous au revoir mini bash.

Have fun in Singapore!

P/S Sorry Fish, I didn't snap any of your photos with my cell.

These days, instead of waking up to a beautiful smile greeted to me from me, I have to drag myself out of bed with the most dreadful thought of "one day down, one night on comfy bed cosy room gone". Partly because I have been so shagged out, I am packed to the brim of my windpipe and Time is holding me on chokehold. There are simply too much to see to, too many people to be seen with before a new phase begins. Oh God, I wish to be superwoman for the next 72 hours - to whizz to places I love in Singapore, to eat a tableful of local delicacies and not put on weight, to flung into the arms of those whose embrace I wish to be caught on camera, and I wish everyone is free to attend to me can? I am like going last minute pre overseas shopping alone later today. I need a speedy good ride, really.

I have never been away from home this long. Though technically speaking, I am still in Singapore, I can feel all jaded with loneliness right now. To whom would my absence be even significant to? I doubt I might even have a sound sleep for the next 365 days. Goodness? Now the figure seems all daunting. Hundreds! Either I come back tougher, or I may just fulfill my hara kiri fascination over at Macau. hah.

Okay. I am going comatose now. There's so much to be done by tomorrow.

Loves.to all.

And Faith.to me.

P/S Name for Purple Teddy?

P/S P/S LoveLetter.Bangingcock.Phuket.Langkawi.Monsoon '08.Especial 21st Birthday.

P/S P/S P/S A Nike pink sweater.

Just for Laughs!

Today's Lappie shopping exhausted the total coconuts outta me (refer to post below). I've gotten a Toshiba (Yes. They do manufacture notebooks as well) Portege instead of the intended Sony VAIO, mainly because of the free throw-in of the new iPod Nano? Lol.

I thought it should be momma's birthday countdown and I was asked to be at home to do some cake cutting, and now I am like all alone at home, with a imaginary cake and Placebo. *yawns Being stranded at home on a TGIF is like a OMFG. Placebo's new album is as disappointing as Resident Evil 3. I think every sequels to movies are bound to suck. Maybe it's more of us getting demanding... Hmm. Oh well, least there were some parts during the flick I was laughing. Not to mention, the company was heaven.

Ah! Shall watch South Park!

I am a dead lame 22 year old.

P/S Fish, I pretended to be a real music tard. =p

It's so barbie pink!

P/S I love you daddy!

[edit]

Goodbye Vaio.

Hello Portege.

Requiem.

I have been listening to alot of opera these days. I don't really wish to listen to any blabber by any artiste nor anyone. My shipment arrived from the US, and it gave me a good panic attack. First of all, I was excited when I was opening the postage. Then I delicately took the precious out and realised it's too small/short. I went shrieking on top of my lungs, and decided to check out some lappies online. Found Sony VAIO CR11GH and fell in love with the pink one. Now I am sounding like xiaxue. Hah. Okay, I know nuts about the specifications, because I am a very much useless girl. [And so, you might even be calling me an emotional weakling. It's a pity why I don't exist in the Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart age, nor the Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni age, nor the Charles Dickens age, nor Jesus Christ age. Because I am sure back then, emotions comes with complimentary promised success if you are willing to be nothing for life and be something afterlife. Afterall, that's what Music and Arts all about. That's what Christ has gotten which got him crucified] And I am waiting for my IT gadget materialistic bitch primary school friend to come online. I am yawning already. Whatever he says, I think I'm getting the lappie. It's so artificially pink. It's a pity it's in baby pink instead of shocking pink. Nonetheless, it's so artificial, so like mere mortals.

I began writing out my thoughts this afternoon again. I learnt from somewhere that it's a good practice to do so, for the more you bottle them inside, the chances of flipping soar, and because I could no longer hurt myself due to my expected departure for work, I would have to bring my journal around everywhere I go. And I realised, that the previous statement is quite a long one. So here goes this entry that I would like whoever is reading this to read.

If you ever had, or have been trying to carve me into somewhat like a mimic of yours, for, to appease your ambitious domineering greed, your inordinate fascination of your own self, I would have to erase 'me'. And make you believe I am your hypothetical, delusional 'me'. And then you'd be contented and most importantly, smiling. And then I can finally fuck 'myself' out of your life, and be 'me' in 'my' own life. So it would mean I have a handful of roles to play. Whoever you want me to be, you'd receive it. For I'd show you the most insincere gesture of not even being a sincere being. That's an insult, seriously.

The emotions and emptiness I feel for everything now or rather everyone now, clunk into one another like the Morse Code. Emptiness, and then dashes of emotions, then dots of nothing. I'll explain literally and quote a rather realistic example. Firstly, you blabbered something, "xxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxx". Then, second, I feel pain because you blabbered something about me, quite in my sense, quite inexcusable, which set my mind blank and off guarded because it didn't really expect such response. And sorry for you because it's a pity why narrow-mindedness seems to be clouding you at this very moment, or perhaps not, and then remain speechless because, 1) I don't really wish to retaliate crudely, 2) If i retaliate, it just shows I really do care, 3) My mind just couldn't really wish to be bothered to.

Guess that's what us always do, to make assumptions, jump to conclusions, come up with our own verdicts and waddle in our own pool of deceit, wear the mop-like wig and sentence to anyone who isn't a lot like us (in this case, a judge who stole a candy bar from 7-11 when he was 9 eventhough he was given 10 buckaroos, got away scot-free eventually VS a teenage boy who killed his uncle because his uncle was trying to rape his mother. How alike/unlike?), to death with a book, a hammer, and a statement.

It's a cultural taboo to even think we are always right and forcefully shove others into our 'way'.

Nevertheless, it's still happening and vastly practised nowadays.

"People who have never come close to seeking death, don't understand its promise of an end to life's struggles. They don't understand the precarious teeter-totter on which a suicidal person balances, shuffling reasons to live and reasons to die back and forth to avoid hitting bottom. They don't understand that when you're that low, when you can't see beyond yourself and your fallen-apart world, it's the little things that send you over the edge, not the big things.

And sometimes it is the little things that keep you going, too."

-

I am constantly seeking the need to find a reason to go on. Alas, greeted by the inability to find it.

And are you the king or queen of denial?

-

Hmm...
When your wallet is dry, so is your brain.

Haha. I have nothing to blog about man. Was even planning to say something about superiority vs inferiority this afternoon.

But no. I'm too hungry to even try to think.

Ahh.. Perhaps I can post what I want to get before I leave SG.

1. A red big luggage
2. A black hand carry one
3. A Sony Cybershot TXXX (I don't remember the model no.) in Red
4. A red lappie, pink one will do too.
   
   I swear I saw this Coach varicoloured card holder which got me jumped up in excitement.

Another night looking at the one staring back at me,

Thoughts went wild
And no matter how much I tried to contain myself within conscious sanity,

This is what I derive at...

I wish I grew up in the 60's.

So I can play with powers austin.

And be that lil naughty kitty.

So..

Mundane.

And so friggin naughty now.

That guy from Titans was telling me he'd get a stripper from Seattle for me.

ME: Eh? If you can bring her back, why not.

So he said "I was refering to a Him!"

ME: Nah. Not if he isn't Eminem Stripping.

This is something funny which happened today.

I was walking past this bunch of Muds. They started whistling and howling which got me checking up the dark sky for a bright full moon. So Mud 1 came...

Mud 1: Excuse me... xxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx know you?

Me: Huh?

Mud 1: xxx xx xxx xxxxx know you?

Me: /churned brain. Er... Sorry I don't speak English.

BUSTED!!!!!!!!!!!

Mud 1 gave me a "WTF?" look and so...

Me: Er. Yah. See ya around. Bye.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

-

I am dedicating this post, you girls out there can call me whatever you like. Hah!

-

Mister Teoh,

I've been a naughty girl.

I've said things I didn't mean.

There are some things you should have seen.

And I swear I didn't know I could hurt you so.

There are so much I wish I can say to you.

Sighs.

I am writing you a poem with only happy feelings, so it's going to be lousily structured.

Please pardon.

This is my room,

my bed,

you dreamt of it,

and... /blushes

Now it's revamped.

Won't we just waste a lil world's time

Get lost in bubbles

And dream of some love?

P/S Sorry. I promise I won't roar anymore.

Meows? And make it up to you? >.<

Worlds.2

"We are all in both 'worlds', the inner and the outer, simultaneously. Yes, the dominance of each form of experience waxes and wanes according to the degree of self-consciousness we feel. The permanently self-conscious type is closer to the artistic temperament, never able to silence the inner critic. The life-in-the-fast-lane man of action who is absorbed by some challenging activity or adventure, so-called flow states, is hardly ever self-conscious; he does not experience the problem that some philosophers have labelled 'individuation', or simply the awareness of being alone and beyond anyone else's needs.

There's nothing fixed about a human personality. That you might, by exercising your will, make yourself into nearly anything. You need to fashion a mask, one which would fit."

I have been living a lie, I chose to make live a dream. And I've mentioned I am a chameleon character is because I can will myself into nearly anything I want to be. I am a mask, what's the face under the mask?

Like what the above has mentioned, we are in both 'worlds' simultaneously. It may portray me as shunning from reality, unwilling to be realistic, but not many would be able to understand that I do, this would explain the tendency of massive mood swings. To go easy on myself, I'd rather be dreaming and make myself believe things I would choose to; to some extent hallucination may even occur. It may be a temporary relief and it may proved to be futile and fatal once reality hits in, but short span moments of joy and happiness are all I am chasing.

It is believed and propagated that each is responsible for his own happiness. Ironically, I often find myself seeking comfort in things and individuals which are potentionally vital to myself. (Note that "vital" is an ambiguity). I strongly feel that matters which are happening around us, are beyond our control, as long as another party is involved. It's a shame for those who keeps harbouring the thought that they can 'indeed' control their own destinies and contrarily blame it if along the way some part of them got screwed up. I've said a thousand times to myself, when one party is ever ready to give, and no one wants to receive, I would end up being intertangled by my own strings of one sided emotions, and alas, suffocate and breathe my last.

I guess that leaves us with only doodling to do.

The power of dreaming - you seem more real as compared to what you are in reality. I had managed to successfully converse with everyone in my other world. Everyone's hospitable, everyone's pure at heart and I need not have to worry abit about being hurt, for in it, everyone's loving me unconditionally. It's a happy world. If everyone feels more real in this world, why is reality presumed to be the real one when everyone feels nothing more than circus clowns?

The reason why I feel that no one can fathom me, is that I've realised I am a mosaic myself. As for how many pictures I have within this mosaic, I have yet found out. They say when you grow older, you would understand yourself better. To differ, a sand of myself slips away though the gap of my fingers every day. I've had a grasp of myself when I was younger. Though I had nothing, it felt as if I have everything.

I happen to be someone quite similar to Yukio Mishima. Though I don't consider myself as obsessed with death as he is, we share identical peculiar traits and thoughts. His passion resides in poetry, martial arts, and literature works. Likewise, my passion has always been with the arts. Have you ever been to an art gallery and instead of appreciating those works, you look at the back of the heads of those white collared people? You should do it if you haven't done so. Mishima has acrophobia, but I love being in high places. You'd feel light, and so free, as though there isn't anyone who would be able to chase you, who'd be able to hold you down, let alone shatter you. Fishes are therapeutic, so are polars in my opinions. To really commemorate my departure from this existing world where my body resides, I would love to spend a day in my black dress, sitting and watching them all day.

-

A maple leaf glissaded beautifully in the breeze and came to a halt when it gently fell on the ground. The birds had sung their last harmony and are gathered up in flocks, ready for a migration. Autumn has come to an eventuality and Winter is slowly making its way in. As I stood alone against the world outside, there was another world within. A loveless world in which no one could ever exists - there will not be pain.

Just like a snowflake on a red hot stove, distinctly alluring however shortlived.

Suicide.1

Whenever someone commits suicide and an inquest is held, it is common for a verdict to be recorded in terms such as 'death whilst the balance of mind was disturbed'. So suicidal insanity may be said to indicate a lack of balance in the mind, and presumably sanity involves the opposite balance, so that a balanced mind is a sane mind.

If this is correct, it may be worthwhile to point out that art seems to call for imbalance, and in this context is immediately allied against Life, with the risk of 'premature' death significantly elevated. In this sense a balanced mind is content in itself, at rest, unproductive. A mind in imbalance seek to right itself, to escape the pain that such an awkward posture is likely to provoke, and this process has often led to creativity and to what we have decided to call artistic expression. This is what produce remarks such as that all art proceeds from neurosis.

Many artists create whilst mad, then spent, drained of these dangerous impulses, return to the sane world of balance and dinner parties and mundane chores and banal detach to the drear and grey of everyday life. The 'unsuccessful' artist may get trapped on the other side of the mirror, be unable to get back and feel obliged to disappear into the invisible realm, to choose by choosing death over life.

One way of thinking about the balance of mind is to acknowledge that human life is a drama between an invisible interior mindscape and a visible, more measurable, exterior frame of reference that we have come to call the real world. Two sides of a coin: what happens inside our heads and what happens 'out there' in the real world. Art then may be said to be about bringing the interior world into the exterior world in some concrete if not always permanent form. An artist is by this definition someone who dwells, out of balance, in the interior world of his own mind and as he lives in the real world is forced to reconcile the differences of these various of experience in some way.

To ensure you live forever, die a magnificent manner.

^^ hara-kiri

The disease is back.

I have been trying to inject myself with hypothetical happiness jabs, realised my body is rejecting 'em. All of 'em. Couldn't even remember when was the last time I had a good full sleep. 2 to 3 hours has been my daily dosage. My brain couldn't stop churning. Neuromodulators overcrowded - red alert for brain flood. When I am asleep, I know it. Chain smoking is futile and I am trying to kick it. Listened to tons of lounge, jazz, nothing worked. They managed to drift me to this lightness, but unconsciousness was out of reach. Guess trying to be happy shouldn't work for me and possession of sleeping pills - a life threatening danger.

Watched nip/tuck, laughed uncontrollably at this statement this woman said to Christian,"I am a masochist, and you're a sadist, so we're meant for each other". And Christian permitted her to have sex with him only if she wears a recycled grocery bag. /lmao? I guess that's the world works isn't it?

Not a single one of us isn't a sadist and a masochist.

Glide cosy into my rocket ride,

Get ready to go.

Fly into my palm and collapse,

I suppose you'd never know.

Nobody knows where they might end up;

Nobody knows.

Nobody knows when they might wake up;

Nobody knows.

Tick tock, tic tac toe.

Ready for the sky?

Ready to go?

I seriously can't wait to get the hell outta here.

This is a lil note for myself.

"If it's Wednesday today, watch Grey's at 10.35pm."

saturday's scorching september.

OhhhhHiLo! I woke up today and suddenly decided to change my unofficial club's name to TLC. And I mass messaged the members of the change and I was commented being a genius by a sleeping Ling. What a joke and an insult. To think she rejoiced more at the mention of a upcoming Mission Flying Long Silver Sword instead of the change of club name. I think we should expand the existing club. Perhaps it's a good idea to recruit Charlie? Provided she is on the same wavelength ok... and she doesn't find having belonged to a club at this age, childish. Four makes a mahjong table complete. But Fish hasn't mastered the basics yet. Pathetic. /bah

I reached for my mobile and felt that the world was so beautiful today.

Haha.

-I swear there's this SIA stewardess diggin me. Get envious of me you guys out there. But she's really uninteresting to begin with.-

It was a sweet gesture for a couple of ex colleagues to call on me this afternoon. But I was very much ill treated by Steph. Grr, Steph's a bitch! I realised this afternoon I find myself queer with chinese as if I was a duck trying to moo. And I discovered I have a strong irk when people "keke" me. It just makes me want to eviscerate you and hang your loose skin out in the sun to burn.

Saturday - today ended at Breko. I had wanted a beer, Fish was so not spontaneous. And when I asked her to go for an impulsive tattoo and club trip along with me, I just thought there won't be another person as crazy as me on earth. Nonetheless, thank you Fish for your generosity. For once, you've managed to change my mindset of you being stingy. /smile!

I recalled this incident when I was at Kuala Lumpur. Haha. I was at the Petronas Tower (and so you know), there was the security checkpoint and there was the metal detector, usual. I had emptied my lighter, mobile. But when I passed through, it still alerted. Guess what? I was wearing a metal studded belt! So I was dressed more of a Rock Star instead of an executive for that job interview. lol.

Fish said sometimes she finds herself unable to comprehend me despite the fact that we've known each other for a long 14 years. There seems to be ever going tremendous changes in my mood and personality. Hey, I don't even dare to say I completely understand myself either please.

Hm... Just suddenly feel like going off. I don't like the idea of the monitor gazing at me.

me out, punk.

T.G.I.F ended with LKP wit ma club the usual fashion, the usual laughs, the usual mocks, the usual scowls, the usual. Discussed, why are 1/6's girls the most prominent ones in school, infamous for all sorts of reason? A list...

1. We had the tallest. *points finger
2. We had the school belle who's perfect - looks, figure, brains, talents, voice. *points finger
3. We had the cutest bung in history (that is in my sense). *points finger
4. We had the nosiest, every teacher wanted to kill (you, yes you). *points finger
5. We had the stupid ah lian wannabe who became infamous overnight (not me). *points finger
6. We had a Mathematics whizz. *points finger

Strolled along Boat Quay, same pavement tiles, same river, same stench, same me. Square one me. Cuzzy Benny, I had missed you so much, but remain behind bars forever.

I'm watching TLC's creep on youtube. I don't understand why are they dancing in oversized satin pjs. (Sing it! "No. I don't want no scrubs. A scrub is a guy that can get no love from me. Hangin on the passenger side of his best friend's ride, tryin to holler at me"). Left Eye...

Fish asked, "Why are you wearing specs to cover your dark eyes? Camouflage?" Me: Most probably. My mental landscape, while not Gothic or especially morbid, was also far from conventional. Just like what Christopher Ross wailed on behalf of Mishima, while searching for the latter's sword,

"...there are two kinds of human beings: those who keep death out of their thoughts to live better and more freely, and those who, on the contrary, feel their existence more wisely and more strongly when they watch for the signals death gives... These two kinds of spirits do not mingle. What one calls a morbid mania is for the other a heroic discipline."

Life is not enough to be only One. Take transformations. Be a chameleon character.

Yours Sincerely, Us.

Squabled through sms-es this morning. Hmm...

It was a heated one and it pretty quite scared the hell out of me.

Hmm.. No. Aights, yes.

I love the way we converse.

him: wow
him: ur entry
him: impressive
me: ?
him: blog entry
me: mmm... which one enthralls u
me: which one enthralled you?
him: all
him: disappoint on the part on sex though
me: i thought... that was real
him: real
him: perhaps
me: its funny
me: i thought youve been checking out my blog every now and then.
him: uh huh
me: hmm
me: my brains not fully awake yet.
me: so i cant figure out wot you were trying to say
him: you are thinkng at your clearest now
me: nonsense. i know my brain.
him: you know nuts
me: thats for you to deduce.
him: yawn
me: punk?
me: if you find talking to me as such a yawn, i dont derive why would you even wanna start.
him: perhaps you should think more
me: ive said my brain is not fully awake yet.
me: you became a conclusionist for once.
me: =)
him: you are still the one
him: you cant see what is going around
him: you in your fucked lil warped up wworld
me: i dont see a reason to argue.
me: lets not ruin such a beautiful morning.
him: i see every reason
me: why should we?
him: you fucked and made me stress in camp
him: daily
me: oh ?
me: perhaps you fucked and stress me every day too?
him: perhaps you never looked into your actios
me: now yer bringing em up?
me: okok
me: wait
him: i know what im doing, you dont seem to get what im doing
me: lets not argue online
him: and you make it worst daily
me: why dont we do it later
him: why not?
him: you can shit in smses
him: you cant talk online
me: i would love to see the extrovert side of you
me: oh yeah? i tot you were dead yesterday
him: i dont want to show?
me: i wont force. =)
him: good.
me: want any breakfast?
him: nah
him: having maggie
me: ok

Okay. Basically, this is what the usual squable would look like (this was on MSN's), but this morning's was pretty face on 99 combo hits between Iceman and Baby Bonnie Hood (If you don't play Marvel VS Capcom, I am sorry I can't help you. And I don't know. Don't ask me why I choose Bonnie Hood to represent me can? I just like the Red hood). Nevertheless, we still make up all the time with impromptu hugs and kisses, or be them imaginary ones, we know we are there for each other.

I know I am an abusive girlfriend who is a pain in his ass. I am aware and thankful that he has been putting up with my cracking up cranky behavior. And he should know I have been putting up with his taciturnity whenever we are not around each other. /mewls

This is us, pretty natural.

I should be granted this prerogative of spinning the world in your embrace for every day.

Hi. I am a 11 year old little girl.

Hmm. Someone is owing me my authentic cantonese lesson. I assure you SM, when this weekend ends, without any progress for my cantonese, you would be a dead man on Monday. I'll personally charge down to NTU and have you owned. Perhaps we should meet at some LAN, then I'd have you owned. I am, simply, Godlike.

Ahh.. To all emo blog posts 'fans' out there, I am uberly sorry I can't satisfy your dying desire nor quench your thirst for dismal blood right at this moment. I just haven't been really her (HEY! WTF DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?!) hmm, myself these few days. Which ever way it is, I am just quite punked out at this very moment due to the fact of being owned at Chancery Lane last night. /Arghhhhhh Lost 25 bucks through playing artificial stones with weird chinese wordings and alien engravings.

Despite the fact of losing my most adored items on earth, I am feeling so delirious. I dug out loads of BSBs CDs and have been listening to them for the whole day. It reached this point whereby mere listening to their voices could not satisfy this outdated longing, I resorted to youtube.com. Believe it, I was a humungous fan of theirs (N.C actually). I have every single album, every single single, every flimsy poster, orders from U.S, every every every. That was when I was in elementary that is. Heh. But I've chucked most of the collectibles away. Existing BSB fans, don't bug. I'll just do this song on imeem, which was never released. If you are in for a good laugh, try searching for the song which is playing on imeem right now on youtube.com and laugh your heads off at their promotional video. Get popped out on old school BSB! [edit] Bored of the song and took it down

Saturdays' afternoons of the month of September are all booked. And Saturdays' evenings are reserved out of own account for someone of paramount supremacy at this phase. So people, do your bookings if you would love to spend time with me. I am experiencing a little human traffic congestion here, a little overbooking there. Make advanced ones.

Talking to everybody is just like... talking to everybody.

Another attempt at blogging every day's deeds.