The Team.

Do you remember the CCA open house in year 2002? The sunny, noisy affair. The cacaphony of sounds; trumpets blaring from the school's band, the smart clipclops issuing from non-smiling NPCC/NCC-ians, the obnoxiously friendly hollars from a diversity of CCAs, urging you to put your name down on that black clipboard that they were brandishing about, telling you how red cross/choir/girl guides/dance/shaving your head (no i was just kididng)/volleyball can thoroughly benefit your life and turn you a better person.

How about;
The thud of a ball on cement, the swoosh through the net, the shrill chirps of the whistle?
Do you recall?

I do. (:
I still remember the number tag they made me wore around the waist to tell us freshies apart. I was labelled number six.

We met as strangers, and ended up as a tightly knitted team, ready for anything, anyone.It was awkward the first few months, with weak passes and shots that never goes in. Infuriating cross drills always gets on our nerves, that coupled with the blazing heat and a water break that never comes. It was trying.

The passes got better. The shots went in. We shared laughters, so much of that we had. We laughed at Karen, with her clowning around. We laughed at Xinying, her landing, her splits. We laughed at Rahila, her spectacular falls. We laughed at the poor bitch that gets the bucket full of iced water at the end of the training. Oh how we laughed.

We shed tears. We cried when we missed a shot at creating history for USS when we lost to RVH at the Quarter-Finals. So close, yet so far. We cried, when we almost lost Xinying after a match. Thank God for CPR and those inexplicable miracles. Fortunately, there wasnt much for us to shed tears about.

We triumped. We triumped against countless schools, countless teams. We triumped at the year-end carnival, 4th. The trophy is still basking in its pride at the top of my shelf. We triumped against MrLee. Against Zoey. Hey we lasted longer, didn't we? (;We triumped against that sun, against the cramps from Zoey's inhhuman crunches, against the sprains, against the scraps gotten from millions of pushups.

And we won, first, for four consecutive years for the annual Inter-CCA relay.
Unbeaten, unbroken. ( TRACK couldn't hold a candle to our girls. )



USS netballers Cgirls2002-2003.
We may not have the medals, but we sure as hell got the spirit.
My love for you girls, always & forever.

Lynnie tagged me.

Once you’ve been tagged, you have to write a blog with 6 weird facts/things/habits about yourself, saying who tagged you. In the end you need to choose the 5 people to be tagged and list their names.

#1. I cannot take caffeine. It makes me bounce off the walls and drive everyone else up it. One slim can of Nescafe latte is enough to get me giggling and jumping.

#2. I drink, no I chug, water like I'm suffering from dehydration every waking moment.

#3. I sing, loudly and off key, in the bathroom, kitchen, bedroom, living room, whenever I'm stressed.

#4. Bananas makes me constipate ALOT. And the thing is, I ADORE bananas. What a predicament. It does good to my bowel movements.

#5. I have never watched a single horror flick in my life, and I'm not intending to.

#6. When its pouring buckets, thunders cracking and the winds are howling outside, I love to tuck the mattress just beside my full length window, sunggle up in my quilt, holding a cup of steaming something, watch and laugh at those poor things struggling against the weather outside. I derive great pleasure from this form of people-watching, heavens knows why.


And now, y'all know all my dirty deeps and are probably howling with laughter right now; Rhys, Adri, Shan, Eils and LeRaine shall have the pleasure. Y'all are officially tagged. (:

Incoherence

I realised,

The JC syllabus is doing horrors to my vocabulary.
It does not encourage creative writing, nor does it requires descriptives/narratives. And heavens know I never fail to butcher my argumentative essays. So it makes compete sense that argumentatives are the main requisite for many subjects in JCs.

I'm writing in an utterly disinteresting, yawn inducing manner. I wont be suprised if yours truly fall asleep halfway through this. The words all oozed together like those sticky summer heat, lumping to form plain obnoxious and juvenile sentences. Writing used to give me a rush, a satisfaction of weaving together words into something beautiful, something compelling to readers, but all it gives now is a big pain in the ass.

So here I am, slouching in an utterly unfeminine manner, tapping incessantly on the table, trying to think of that brillance, that enlightenment to save this entry from being a disgrace to tale-dujour. And naturally, none came. Like one of those bitch of a bus, it never comes when you're waiting for it, but it always arrives when you're half a mile away or with your bag tangled around your feet and your skirt bunched up your hips.

Good Lord.

If this was a job, I'll be fired on the double.

Oh the games the girls play!

Its scary how the mind of a teenage girl's mind works.

I was strolling down Orchard road's with friends, all of us clad in IJC's finest, when this group of girls from another JC ( I wasn't sure which ) walked past.

You could feel the tension.

Their eyes gave you the standard two seconds, sizing you from your hair to your shoes. A quick flit to your badge than stealing a glance at the brand of your bag, while we return the same favor to them.

In that split moment, they would have analysed you, categorised you and decided whether to view you as competition. If you are, brace yourself for that look of practised disdain. But no actually, don't brace, anticipate. Because that disdain only serves to hide their jealousy.

And after that five seconds when both parties are out of each other's view, we will resume laughing and talking, but all the while subconsiously scanning for other possible targets.

Bitchy, I know. But what else did you expect from us fellow females?
We are bitchy and we are darn proud of it.

This was a mistake

Name twenty people you can think of right now. Don't read the question(s) until you've named the 20 people. At the end of this, choose five people to do this.

1. Carolyn. ( I was chatting w her)
2. Pricilla.
3. Xinying.
4. Benjamin.
5. Justin.
6. Shahril
7. Bahri.
8. Lisda.
9. Khairyn
10. Weiming
11. Kahlai
12. Eileen.
13. Ruishan
14. Flora
15. Swujuan
16. Cindy
17. Jasmin
18. Melissa
19. Yuhan
20. Qiaozhen

How did you meet #14?
She came into our class and brighten my life after the first three months. Before that, I only knew her as that girl from Crescent. Laughs.

What would you do if you didn't meet #1?
I might have retained of what little is left of my sanity.

What if #9 nd #20 dated?
Err. #20 is attached and #9 can never be straighter. Hormosexuality not their cup of tea, I reckon. In fact, funnily enough, both of them are STRONGLY against it.

Would #6 nd #17 make a good couple?
HAHAHAAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA.
Does that answer your question?

Describe #3.
Be nice and she will be nicer. Be nasty and she tenfold. Double cross her, your life will be a living hell. Once a friend, she is always a friend.

Is #8 attractive?
HELL yeah. You should look at her figure.

Describe #7.
Laughs. He is the very definition of Prince Charming. Bahri is devastatingly good-looking, knows how to play a guitar and sings like an angel. He works out regularly at the gym and has a body drool-worthy. And the thing is, he is exceedingly humble and treats his friends fantastically well.

Do you know any of #12 family members?
Not exactly. But i ve seen her brother and younger sister before.

What would you do if #18 confess to you that she likes you?
HAHA. I will say I KNEW IT ALL ALONG. But than again, she is currently attached and very in love with her beau. So not a chance of that happening.

What language does #15 speak?
Chinese & English. But i will say she speaks the "kahlai" language quite fluently.

Who is #9 going out with?
Just recently, me and lys. (=

How old is #16?
Going to be 17 this month.

When is the last time you spoke to #13?
Yesterday.

Who is #2's favourite band/singer?
She changes perodically. But it really depends on the song she is listening to.

Would you ever date #4?
We went out together several times before, but its purely platonic.

Would you ever date #7?
Buddies dont date. Its a taboo.

Is #15 single?
No. Judging from things, KL is her everything.

What's #10's last name?
Ming. D-U-H.

Would you ever be in a relationship with #11?
I already am. The same way pancakes goes with honey. (;

School of #3?
Sama-sama.

Where does #6 live?
Yew Tee.

What's your fave thing about #5?
His ability to listen whenever I need to rant.

Have you seen #1 naked before?
Thats for me to know and you to find out. (:

5 lucky people to do this :
1. Rhys
2. Carolyn
3. Khairyn
4. Weiming
5. Eileen
And whoever whenever.

I'm too bloody bored.

A moment like this.

It was one of those wretched moments where your fingers are numb from the cold and you curl your sneakers shod, socks wearing toes in defence against the damned airconditioner in the school's library. Yet you can't head out, as the weather outside is a a bitch, those that sticks your uniform uncomfortably to your back and form beads of perspiration on your upper chin and hairline.

Your friends are all in lessons because they were dumb enough to take geography or history. Your buddy isnt here to bitch with you, because he don't take ProjectWork or Chinese. You could feel your brain freezing with every mundane minute that oozed by.

You have two more hours to go before your next lesson, which is going to be a predictably boring fuck. You can't sleep because thhe cold seems to be eating into your bones, you can't study because your frozen fingers cant hold the pen properly and your brain is too hungry to think straight. You cant eat because that means getting out and into that heat.

Ah, 'tis such a wonderful life.





I miss Adri and Lys. )=

Random thought of the moment

"An apple a day keeps a doctor away.
If the doctor is HOT, throw the damned thing away."

Just my luck all the doctors in the vicinity are fat and balding.

Oh cheese and whiskers.

Ode to bestie

They say you re a lucky little bugger if you have at least one true best friend in your entire life.

I never thought I would have one. I used to think they only exist in fluffy love novels and squealing chick flicks.

That someone to tell everything to, from that loathesome girl in your class to the cute boy over at the booth.
Someone to finish that sentence in your head.
Someone to order your food without ever needing to ask you.
Someone who knows you hate mayonnaise and always ordered plain for you.
Someone who knows your favourite chocolates.
Someone who believes in you more than you believe in yourself, but is always there to pull you down to earth.
Someone who waits for you after classes, during breaks and before school without telling each other beforehand.
Someone who you can count on not losing that special bond simply because you cant hang out together due to other different cliques and obligations.
Someone whom you are comfortable enough to not feel a need to talk when there's a laspe in conversation.
Someone who is able to immediately sense your unhappiness when you had managed to convinced the rest of the world otherwise.
Someone where you know the things you have to talk about never ends.
Someone whose hugs are so safe and full of care, it always brightens even your foulest days.

Someone who knows you better than you know yourself.

Here's to you, bestfriend.
I do love you so.


I'm one lucky bitch.

It's not you, it's me.

Editor's Note : Hello dear ones. I will be blogging once again, but instead, I will be updating more on my everyday goingons and emotions rather than waxing poetry and ranting philisophies. Because I ve realized, as sad it is, I ve ran out of the tingle to rant and bellow about life, and surppressed emotions and a desire to write about my youth is growing like jack's beanstalk. I wish to be hollaring at my kids about "Why, when I was your age..." and actually remembered something that happpned when I was in that particular age.
I will understand if you readers lose interest, but I hope you understand. This is a phase for me, and who knows? I might be back to blogging the usual manner someday not very long from now when I feel my life is a boring fuck. And it finally got into my mind that this blog is for ME, so I should just write any damned thing that makes me happy. So Im sorry and I do hope you will continue to visit, even if you just want to make me feel loved but you care nuts about the writings in my site. By all means, act. Of course, there WILL be occasional times where I feel a need to bitch about an issue and I will write. But all in all, my blog has become my journal. And fuckit, I realized my memory is getting worse with each passing day, so I need to to pen events into written memories before I lose everthing in my head.
Thanks once again, and I wish you well.

I sacrificed a sleep-in to attend TheNewpaper annual BigWalk today, which is really rare. Because heavens knows, I love, no, NEED my sleep-in every sunday. Waking up at five too early a.m is unheard of and should be made illegal. So clap for me, please.

The big walk was just like sex in barns ; hot, sweaty and a hell load of a funtime. 10km is NOT a short distance, mind you, and I'm proud to say we made it through without detuoring into SuntecCity or MarinaSquare for food & airconditioning. Okok, so actually we barged our way in the first kilometer, and didnt start at the starting point, because we were so late and the national stadium was too far. And bloody hell, I did not get my goodie bag and balloons, so I swore to my girls that I shall complete the damn walk to get it. So I'm being kiasu, but what do you expect out of another fellow singarrporrrlllleeaan?

We cam whored through the entire walk. It was TEN kilometres. What did you expect us to do? Sing?


So yadda yadda on, we completed the walk and God decided to let it POUR. So we were stuck at this cramped bus stop at hell knows where, with the rain coming down in fucking buckets. Being hungry, aching and sticky, it wasnt the most pleasant feeling to have. But lets move on with life.

We bought tickets for Over The Hedge. So the animals are cute, and I was dying to see bruce willis's macho voice issuing out of this disgustingly adorable little skunk/possum/squirrel character. We flew down to Fish&Co to appease the monsters in the tummies. And I fucking swear, that 10km walk just went to the pits. Feeling fat and contented, we went up.

The movie was typical and disappointing. So when girls sulk, girls eat. Went to TCC, and pigged out again. The guilt was heavy on my back but it wasnt heavy enough to stop me. DAMMIT.

YaddaYadda. Oompa Loompa. The rest of the details werent significant. So I was considering whether to upload my gorgeous face onto the post. But my my bed is looking the very picture of seduction so I am sorry but your eyes will just have to get a treat the next time I decided to be nice.

Yours for the time being,
Tze.

Rubbish looks like this

I'm at loss.

I glanced around for inspiration. Thought hard about what could be interesting. Stare for hours at the infuriating glowing screen.

But I couldnt think of anything to blog about. Im sorry, I have failed you readers. Despite everything else, there IS an unwritten standard and protocol I would have to follow writing tale-dujour.

And it's getting harder and harder to write.

My mind feels blank. They call it the writer's block. And its an utterly despressing feeling. Right now, it feels more like the writer's 1000foot tall barricade.

Im labouriously pecking out each and every letter right now. This is a trying task.


Im in need of a brief hiatus. The noose on my neck is getting too tight.

Im sorry. But when the intangible finally comes to me, I shall write again. Do frequent here.

tale-dujour is far from over.

The 411.

You force yourself up at 5.35am after the shrill ringing of your alarm snatches you rudely from the warm cradles of your slumber. You know you can't hit the snooze button, tempted you might be, but no, you can't. Because five minutes will turn to ten and eventually you will be standing along side the other late comers outside the gate, hearing the anthem and looking like a fool, while earning yet another detention for yourself.

Blearily you stumbled to the bathroom, flinching as the harsh bright light assaulted your sleep tender eyes. You went through the morning routines without as much as a coherent thought, and stepped inside the shower, allowing the icy water to slap your mind awake.

The bus rumbled on, as you propped your arm against the window still, earphones plugged deep into your ears, ignoring other sleepy students and chatty primary school kids , staring at the world with heavy eyelids as your shower this morning begin to wear off.

You're not a morning person.

Morning assembly.You mechanically mouth the words to the song you have been singing for the past ten years, all the while cursing the humidity that causes your uniform to stick uncomfortably to your back.

Sweat trickled down into your cleavage. Goddammit.

And so the day unfolds. Lectures after tutorials, as you snooze in the theatres and daze int the classrooms. Words ran pass you without comprehension, numbers flew by in a blur. Equations, concepts and formulas swirled in front your eyes, like dizzy spots, but never into your mind. You feel oddly detached, and the only thing you felt was a spurt of panic when a test on chapters you dont understand was announced to be taking place not many days from now. You promise yourself to ask and enquire, but deep down, you know you will never work up the discipline to.

Hours and seconds ticked by, oozing down to 340pm ever so slowly. You feel frustrated, you scream inwardly.

Why is it taking so @#$%ing long?

The bell sings it final melodious tune, you feel a loosening around your heart, you are released. Relief burst like a bubble, enveloping you. You just want to savour the moment, to breathe in that carefree elixir of freedom. You know it wouldnt last, that made it all the more precious.

That moment passed. You open your eyes and face the bitch of reality. Homework piled upon heaps, project deadlines looming ahead, NAPFA test next week, summer test just around the corner.

You sighed, but a smile soon took over. You and your friends are going out now, you are going to just enjoy the moment, and not think of anything else. Procrastinate, you are the master. Next morning is going to be a bigger pain in the ass, with nothing completed and one more day wasted. But you dont care. Live it up now and think about consequences later, its always been like for you. You briefly wondered how are you going to get promoted next year, but dismiss that thought quickly because you didnt want to ruin your mood now.

"I will think about it tonight."

And as the day draws to an end, you snuggled into your bed, exhaustion pressing on your bones. The feeling almost palphable.

"Think about what?"

You thought as you slip into a blissful nothingness, knowing that that bitch alarm is not going to let you rest for long.

And the day starts over again as you regain consiousness six hours later. It going to go on like this for two more years.

Sighs.

You're tired, really tired.

Honey, does my penis look small in this jeans?

Headline in today's The Strait Times :
"JC Student Kills Himself, Convinced His Private Parts Were Too Small."

Now I could think of a millions reasons why I might jump off the roof of a building.

1. My parents decided to film a sex video and post it up on the internet.
2. I walked around in pink and called myself kimiko or xiaojenny.
3. My brother flashed himself at a guy I might have taken a fancy in.
4. I have AIDs. ( I mean really, I dont see the point in living to the fullest when you have to be deathly afraid of catching a common cold. )
5. Singapore decided that its time we go into war with some random country.
6. Some random country decided its time to go into war with us.
7. The day I start to listen to techno.
8. Cannibalism becomes a trend.
9. The school decided we should all wear plaid pinafores with knee lenght socks.
10. When I get to go to heaven if i jump off the roof a building.

But no, this guy, who was studying at a top junior college, a member of the school volleyball team, who was doing well enough to take special papers, has a loving family and girlfriend decided to take his own life because he thinks his damned penis is too damned small for his ego. AFTER the doctor had verified that his sexual organ is indeed normal sized, alive and kicking.

Some people really deserve a good shaking, even after their deaths.



Afterthought.
Maybe his volleyball shorts were too tight around the balls... those volleyball tights are really ridiculously tight anyway... hmmmm...

Is that a silent T or not?

When I had pigtails and ribbons in my hair, I was envious of girls who have long fancy names. I used to think they sound really pretty. Girls with names like Jennifer, Stephanie, Angeline, Elizabeth, Samantha etc. I used to give myself a new name everyday. On mondays I will be Veronica. Tuesdays Madeline. Wednesdays I fancy Belinda and it goes on and on. My parents look on with amusement whenever I sign my art pieces with every other name but my own.

I was adamant about the names, and choosy to a fault. Any names without at least three syllabus was looked down upon. They HAVE to be fancy shmancy, frilly schilly.

When I entered primary school, the nightmare with my real name begin.

"Err...Z-Zhi Ming is that it?"
"How do you pronounce this?"
"Ze Min?"
"Err, I cant read this. Something Min?"

I used to cringe and cower in my seat whenever my name was called. It seems nobody could get it right. I made a vow on that very day in the first week of primary one, my kids will never have to suffer through the same ordeal. I will give them beautiful names, princessy names. Maybe I will even give them two names. Something like, Elizabeth Karen Lee. And if its a male, I will let my husband do the honours, my childish mind firmly decided.

However, when I was in the midst of secondary school, my preference for names swung back and forth. Like most trends, my fancy couldnt hold for long. One moment I wanted edgy names, names no one could pronounced, names no one would have. ( It was that period where EVERONE wanted to have something nobody had.) Names like Schyler, Xaveira, Desiree. And at another I wanted names with double Ls. Names like Danielle, Joelle, Gazelle. There was time where I wanted boys names too. Names like Alex, Randy, Sam.

I used to whine to my mother, why couldnt you have given me an english name? why oh why? She always said, "Because I want you to choose one for yourself when you are older. I dont want you to be stuck with a name you dislike forever."
At that point of time, I didnt understand what she meant and always sulked and muttered, "I would have liked it if it was english."
She always smiled gently and said, "You will understand when you are older."

How I loathed that sentence! It seemed to me like, for every question they could not come up with a plausible enough reason, they will whip out this sentence as an arsenal. And I will lose, because how could I come up with a good enough retort for that?

But now that I'm reasonably older, I begun to see the light.

With each growing phase, our mindset changes. When I was young I wanted big fancy Tiffanies or Jennifers, but when I was an angsty age of fourteen, I couldnt bear the thought of having such a frilly, pink sounding name. And at sixteen, I shudder at the Xavies, Desirees which I thought was cool two years ago. New friends come and old ones go, and with each new environment and influence, my thinking evolved too. Now that Im seventeen, I couldnt really care less about names, and silently thanked my mother each time the teacher called on another student to answer the questions just because he couldnt pronounce mine. Who knows? Maybe when Im eighteen, I might just call myself Adrianna.

But Rhys does sound pretty cool though. (:

On my first day in a JC, my new teacher told the class to inform her if we preferred to be called something beside your proper name. A few in my class gave her english names, and we have been calling them that ever since. She asked me whether I had one and maybe I should get one because my name is a mouthful, I smiled and said,


"No thanks, Miss. Tze will be fine, just fine."

Pass the pills, dear.

W turns 18 this staurday.

When all is done and the dust has settled, you take a pull of breath and think, "18 is a rather large number, isnt it?" Not long after 18 you will hit the coveted 2. But if you come to think about it, when all is said and done, 10 years is not a very long time. So 30 and its laugh lines comes skipping merrily along and before you know it, the big dreaded four oh is pressing upon you with its wrinkles and sagging assets. Voila, you are married, your figure turns convex in the middle instead of concave, you struggle with grass-munching toddlers and sullen teenagers, your husband is balding and has a belly the size of the gym ball you bought for pilates classes which you never have the time or energy to attend.


Life whips you around pretty fast.


One moment you are young and seventeen, your figure is blooming regardless of the amount of junk food you consume, and the biggest problem in your life is whether you are going to fail your A levels or if that pimple on your face is ever going to go away.
And another you are getting old and everything is going south and age-spotted, you eat salad and oatmeal not in an attempt to save your increasing dress size, but to prevent yourself from getting heart attacks and kidney failures. And the biggest problem in your life is, hang on, what biggest problem? All the problems I have are kinda crucial. Like losing my job to a wide eye freshie with a the same degree but with the looks of a beauty paegant finalist, losing my husband to a twenty dollars hooker simply because she looks good in fishnet stockings, losing my daughter because she's experimenting with marijuana and motorcycles, losing my house beacuse the mortgage is one big fuck.


Whoop-dee-doo.


Pretty soon, I will be 70, all aching backs and creaking bones. Living my life away watching reruns on television and eating multi-coloured pills to keep me alive while ironically, waiting for my death.


After hitting 30, its like the famous quote, "Its all downhill from here."


Lovely.
Enjoy 18, W, while you still can.

So There.

It's 4.17 pm Sunday.
It's hot, airless, humid and stifling.

I'm feeling fat, frumpy, sick, lazy, ugly, boring, guilty, negative, broke, heavy, grouchy, unloved, lonely, friendless and unmotivated.

And to top it off, school starts tomorrow.

Boo.

Sometimes,

It gets too gruelling to reach in the swirling depths of my mind and simply pull out an emotion or thought and exhibit in words and poetries.

There are days when I step home in a haze of incensed fury, raised agitated fingers above the keyboard and just froze. The smorgasbord of unjustified indiagnations and petty frustrations pounded their fists on the locked door of my weary mind, wanting out. They crave to be liberated and eloquently expressed, they want the public to acknowledge their sufferings and demanded both their empathy and sympathy.

More often than not, all I wanted to do is to plunge into the recesses of my churning fury, and allow the rawest of emotions and thoughts to gush out without being filtered, restructured and moulded into a form which you readers have been reading for the past many months.

Just like this;
" I had a fucking bad day in school. Im so pissed right now. Everything that could go wrong did. Why is this world so fucking unfair? Fuck. Everything is so screwed, Im screwed and screw everybody else too. Every fucking thing is against me. And Im down with a fucking flu. My hair's all messy and my uniform looks like shit. The weather is fucking me up and so are the lectures. Fuck FuCK FUCK. Today suck big fat gooseballs. "


But with the principles to uphold and the standard to maintain, I couldnt allow myself to.
Heaves big sigh.

Sometimes I wish I have a twitsy blog and just write about my day like every "miik00" or "xiia0jenn". But these are just moments of my fleeting mental stability. A few weeks or maybe even days, I will look back at this sentance and probably laugh. But for now, I shall just indulge in the thought.


Till the next time, I'm incoherently yours.

Because I Couldnt Think OF Anything Else.

And the mother lode of them all,





Some people seem to have an extraodinarily large amount of free time on their restless hands and over-creative minds.

Mr.Blake sums it up for me.

I was angry with my friend,
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe,
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew it was mine .

And into my garden he stole,
When the night had veiled the pole.
In the morning, glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

HoHumm

I say,
Never take life too seriously.

You'll never come out of it alive anyway.
:D

I think I will go try cotton candy pink on a whim!

As Quoted.

"Money can't buy happiness."
Gertrude Stein.

"Hogwash."
Tze.

Lookalike

According to this, my face bore a distinct similarity to the following ;

To begin, a bond girl.

than an old man,

Boa. (HAHA. Yeah. Right.Really)

This guy. ( Supposedly a poet)
To end, ANOTHER bond girl.



Fascinating. And quite depressing.
I shall never trust the internet ever again.


P.S It also states that I look like RichardHarris aka Professor Dumbledore.
But I forgot to post that up. And its too much of a hassle to do it again.


Wingardium leviosaaaaa!!!

Late Night Head Rush.

The visage of jesters,
The hauteuer of felines.
The slumber of reptiles,
The sultry of summer.

All in a shot of brandy.

Makeover

I toyed with the idea of changing my blog into wordpress, but it wasnt user-friendly enough for me. My knowledge of IT is pathetically low, sad to say.

I reverted back to the given template. Those fancy schmancy skins weren't for me anyway. They didnt portray what I wanted to say in the way I wanted it to say. ( Got you in a twist for that last sentence, didnt I? HOHO. )

Inspiration is so hard to find these days. There's sparse topics for me to drone about when i'm in a relatively mellow mood. Lardeedummdumm...

Should I start a story?

Let me know. (:

Let's keep it friendly.

"As We Go On, We Remember
All The Time We Have Together
And As Our Lives Change,
Come Whatever,
We Will Still Be,
Friends Forever. "

Overplayed. Overrated.

The 2/8`2003 chalet was a bitter disappointment.
The boys all bought a Playstation Portable. Furiously jamming keys, eyes glued to dazzling graphics on a squintingly small screen.
Four beds, 18 growing adolescents.

The girls tried to start a round of gossip, all efforts fall short. A topic couldnt keep us going for more than 10 minutes. Laspes of awkward silences. Restless fidgeting. Phone texting under the sheets. There was nothing new, nothing controversial, nothing scandalous.

Having known each other for 4years, did the novelty wore off? Did our friendship gotten stale? Sad to say, I think it did. I refuse to allow the cynics out there to crow and gloat, I'm sure there's a better reason to the disaster of a chalet. But what?

Games were bought up, and rejected. Yes, sure they were childish and campish. SO WHAT? It still beats slacking on the bed all day watching reruns on TV. You scoff the ideas, saying you played them before, saying they were "LAME", you couldnt be enthusiastic about it, so you poured cold water all over. Cuz if you cant get fired up about it, you wanted to make sure others can't too. Allow me to put what i want to express to you in three coherent and effective words : WHAT THE FUCK?

Readers, you remember my post two entries back (scroll down) about my iJ class. You studied SocialStudies, you learnt how to compare and contrast. Put the skills to good use now.


I hate to do this, I really do. I know after posting this entry up, there will be protests and whispers. I'm a traitor? I don't cherish my friendships? WHATEVER. But I couldnt keep it all in anymore.

FYI, I left the chalet with J on the second day. Where the girls are idling on the beds and the boys have all parked their asses at xSquare, being total geeks.


On the way back to woodlands, J and I gossiped like there's no tomorrow. She's great. If it werent for her, I think I would have went bonkers at downtown east.



On that very day, she's the only resaon why I still believe that friendships dont have expiry dates.

The only reason.

Let's christen it.

Welcome.
Fuckinguntitled- had been loyal.
It had been going for a long time.
I could sense its weariness.
It wants to retire, and move to the Bahamas and sip magaritas or whatever what old retired blogs do.

I clung to it, refusing to let it go, but it insisted.
It said with a fond smile,
"Tze, I was with you through your secondary school life. It had been a wonderful ride. I saw you change and grow through the 2 odd years you have been pouring your tears and expletives into me. But you're older now, and you started to write more of your opinions and less on what you do on a daily routine. Your mindset changes, you are no longer the small, insecure and angsty (well, maybe still angsty) teen you were when you created fuckinguntitled-. Its time to free me and move on to a less angsty, more mature site. Its time to shed your old personality. "

I bawled.
Fuckinguntitled- gave me one last pat and pried my fingers off.
It turned and walked into the crimson sunset.


Err, not exactly. But I was always a hapless romantic. (:

Anyway.
Welcome to tale-dujour.
It seems promising, and its going to accompany me through the years to come. I will be looking forward. Hopefully, you dear loyal readers will also anticipate what tale-dujour got to offer.
I promise to make it good and tammy-free. (:

Ode to o6123a.

I know I do not usually write about events that happens everyday. But this entry shall be an exception. :D

We went to East Coast today, and honestly, it was the best fun I had in ages. We were laughing every one minute, screaming every two minute and enjoying every single moment.

We played games, stupid games that ends with us rolling on the sand with hysteria. Jokes that didnt seemed at funny were sending us to insane shrieks and roars. I mean, when I went to the beach with my other friends in secondary school, most of the girls will be on the mat, chatting and afraiding to get wet or dirty, boys will be in a world of thier own. Cliques were formed. There were more gossips than activities. People will group together to tend to their own, games will be suggested, but none really put into action.

BUT THIS WAS DIFFERENT.

EVERYBODY joined in the fun. Oh my god, there wasn't a single bored moment in the entire day! We played double whacko ( PEISHAN IS SOOOO BLOODY BLUR CAANN), volleyball, monkey, and ALL the lame games we played when we were kids were dragged up. And eveything turn out to be heaps of fun. We sang camp songs and scream stupid cheers.

"Kahlai you so cool you make me woo!"
"Lisda you sissy you make me woo!"
"Weiming you horny you make me woo!"
"khairyn you sexy you make me woo!"
"PEISHAN YOU SO BLUR YOU MAKE ME BOOOO!"

I couldnt recall the last time I laughed so so so hard. So very hard.

We did crazy gymnastics and circus stunts, we even scaled trees!, all for the sake of snapping a few death defying photos. But oh my god, did we had fun. And did we guys have great teamwork work or WHAT.

We rented blades. Although only weiming, khairyn and lisda and me could blade, (Lisda learned fast) it was hilarious teaching the rest. KAHLAI! HOW MANY TIME DID YOU FALL TODAY? HAAH. And ALL rented blades. All were willing to try and join in the fun. Back than, only a few of my friends would wanna blade, the rest would prefer to sit around or do their own stuffs. BUT you guys were great! Everybody were determined to make it the more the merrier. It was utterly wonderful. Also, weiming, khairyn, lisda and me went blading on ourselves after awhile. And went to this pretty section of the beach, NATURALLY we took snapshots. HAHA.

GUYS! Remember the untangling game? OH LORD, SOOO FRUSTRATING! But we kept laughing!

WE ARE SO VAINNNN! ALL OF US LOVE TO TAKE PHOTOS! AND THE PHOTOS ALL SO STUUUPID ONE! WAHAHAH.


It really breaks my heart yto split us up again. Lisda, Khairyn and Peishan! Dont go AJ la! Stay with us in INNOVA! o623a needs you! Val! dont go NJ la! We will be the BEST class ever. Rochester should stay laaa, go YJ for WHAT. IJ more fun CANN. The knights of the round tabke needs you! Little Johnny needs you! But nevertheless, we are having a BBQ this sat! YAYYAYYAY! Im so anticipating! We re gonna have double the joy! 0623A RAWKKKKKS!

WHOOSH.

Im delirious with joy. (=
So im not right in the head.
Wanna hear me sing? :D

I love you people. So much. THIS MUUUUCCCCH! HUGGGGS.

Revenge is indeed, sweet.

I was scanning through the list of contacts on my MSN list and I ran across this nickname by oe of my juniors ;

"248 days to O...muz study hard!"

And the only coherent thought that ran through my mind was :
AH.HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!
SUCKA!!! YOUR TURN YOUR TURN! NEH NEH NEH POO POO!

Not very mature , I know.
But I was smug beyond reasoning.

The feeling is SO DAMNED GOOOOOD, I TELL YOU.
Knowing that you have passed that obstacle, and exceeded expectations, you tend to forget there are others out there, mugging hard for the Os, their expectations not yet fulfilled, dreams not yet crushed nor realized.


It all seemed such a long time ago now.

HEEEHEEEEHEE! Revenge is oh-so-sweeeet! oh-soooo-sweeeet! Lalalalalooloolalalala!



Haha, I should really stop now. Perhaps another would be laughing at me, I have not taken the As yet.


123456789 days to As...muz study(reasonably) hard!

Numb Fingers.

Fatigue. FATIGUE.
HBSDUBCJUBkbvkbdfkvuu:UFD:SRibkkls;

Sorry, my fingers snoozed for a moment back there.

I'm IJC's library, and it's bitingly cold in here. Everything looks cold, the computer, the keyboard and the boring new books. It feels the same way too. BRRRRR. I skipped Literature tutorial and came to idle my time away. So far, I had played senseless games, completed sensless games, and realized there's no thrash can in the library. Also, there's a total of 10 paintings hung on the walls of the second storey.

I feel the slightest twinge of regret at my decision of entering a Junior College. Homeworks piled upon assigments. Lectures of subjects I do not have an inkling of an understanding. I find myself more often than not dreaming wistfully about the laid back life of a Polytechnic, and berating myself than I fared well enough in the Prelims to enter a JC for the trial 3 months.. If I have not, I wouldn't be here, slaving myself away, day after torturous day.

I will be working, having money FOR ONCE, or lounging around in cushy chairs, sipping creamy frappachino in Coffebean, with a dear friend, watching the frenzied world rushing by. Smiling lazily, as the working and the studying look pressed and pale, whilst we, the '05 students who survived the GCE O levels enjoy our much deserved hiatus.


SIGHS.


Instead, Im the one looking pressed and pale, rushing along with the frenzied world, glancing eviously over at the relaxed and chilled.

.
.
.
.
.


Shall not write anymore. I need to go soak in cold water and tell myself, JC Good! Have Student Fare for MRT! JC can go U. Can go U, Mummy Daddy Happy! Graduate from U can earn big bucks! Got degree DEGREEEE DEGREEEE! Most Important ! DEGREEEEEE! Can wear funny looking square hat and harry potter gowns for Graduation at U! MummyDaddy Happy!



DEGREEEEEE!

Shot! ( Or rather, tagged. )

Aha! This little chain tag-and-you're-it! seemed to have landed on my lap. Of course, with a little help from a dear fellow blogger. (stage whisper) Rhys! I shall get you for this! *shakes fist*

The rules :
- The tagged victim list 8 different points of thier perfect lover/partner, mentioning the gender of said partner.
-Tag 8 victims to join this game and leave a comment on the post letting them know they have been tagged. If tagged before, no need to contribute.

My perfect lover :

1. is not married.

2. makes me and everyone else laugh, but he has a sweet&sensitive side when we're alone.

3. does not drop me like a hot stone the minute i gain 0.000001 pound.

4. do not salivate everytime there is a video game arcade in sight.

5. Ditto point 4 for scantily clad models too.

6. is willing to watch chick flicks with me without complaining that its ruining his macho pride or shields his face with the popcorn bucket when walking into the theatre.

7. does not blush or fidget uncomfortably everytime the word TAMPON/PAD is mentioned.

8. remembers significant dates and not panic at the last possible second, thus buying some pathetic excuse for a gift at the nearby newspaper stand.

9. can control his raging hormones.

10. does not snigger when the word "Geylang" is mentioned.



Tagged:
1. Carolyn ( I imagine this is your forte. )
2. Melissa. ( No you cannot put Maurice for every 8 points. )
3. Qiaozhen
4. Kimberly
5. TiakHui
6. Jiayi ( No you cannot put Allen for evey point too. )
7. Denise
8. You, whoever reading this. [:


That was fun. A moment of glee.
Now back to the real world, where the men cant even fulfill 3 points up there. And if they can, they are probably gay.

Overrated and Overplayed.

Cupid came, shot, and went.

Unfortunately, it left in its wake, exorbitantly priced stalks of withering roses, heavilyperfumed giftshops making a bundle, ferrero roches going out of stock.
Singles never do dare to venture out on Valentine's. A simple stroll might just crush the self-esteem of the weaker. There's have never been a more smug expression on a girl when she saunters down the street with her arm candy, and her confection of crepe paper and fake flowers.

Hoho, I sound cynical, jealous, and sour, you reckon?

I had a fabulous Valentine's, FYI. With single friends. We ate, drank, laughed and were merry. We didnt weep in self pity, nor did we scorn in derisivness. We celebrated Valentine's with gifts, swensens and gossips. I couldnt wished for better. [:

No Im not lying.

A happy belated Valentine's to all blissful couples out there. Stay happy, dont get her pregnant.

And an affectionate hug to all you cynics out there. Reality can wait, go live that dreamy ideal day you always secretly wanted, you can confess your sins later.

And a very much heartfelt happy Valentine's to all my babes. You make me happy. [:


Im sick of Ferrero Roches. Urks.

On Cloud 9.

Praise The Lord.

Somehow, He managed to spin a miracle out of my results. I know it's not as good if you would really want to start comparing. But hell, Im happy with it, and you can kindly shove your comparisons up the place where the sun dont shine. (:

I was so happy, i'm at loss of words to replace "happy".
:DDD

Rainbows are seen, the sparrows are chirpping, the sun is shining and my mom is smiling.

'tis a beautiful day.

If i could do the whole day again, to go through the stomach clenching anxiety, and the frequent nausea, the long, boring talks and the disgusting black spray on my hair, for the reactions I get from my parents and myself,

I would. (:

TGIF? Perhaps not.

I rang in sick today. Wasn't able to get my self to school.
Fatigue overwhelms me. That coupled with a nagging pain that resides in somewhere above my stomach. And the mere thought that today's lessons end at 410.

Blah.

You girls are sweet. (:
Thanks for those lovely messages and yes, I miss you people too!


Idling around at home, I melded with the computer. After the bloghopping and MSN chattings, I went on a whim and reread all my previous posts starting from the very first virgin post I written in Blogger.

Naturally, I flinced in embarassment and winced in shame as I took in my childish writing, petulant manner and petty thoughts. I could almost hear the monitor going tsktsk, but of course, hallucination knows me by name.

However, nostalgia gave my heart a funny tug as I scrolled through hilarious events and angry rantings. Did 4 years really flew by so quickly? Did we really did all those stuff? Did I really type so horribly?
(And the funny thing was, at that point of my life, I was SO DAMN proud of the way I written my posts. I took so much pride in it. After publishing it, I would read it over and over, savouring how nice and "stylo-malo" the entry was written. Now when I look at it, I couldn't read on after the first few lines.)


And tomorrow we shall be getting our results. Both anticipation and dread courses through me. Anticipation because, we all be in the same school again, clad in the same uniform. All together, the old familarity suddenly so awkward yet so sweet. No more newly minted JJs yelling and proclaiming their love for their insituitions, screaming orientation cheers together, words that have no meaning to me, their longing for Unity no longer apparent, their tears during graduation night forgotten. But instead, Unitians once again, reuniting tomorrow, anxious over results.
Dread because this results would serve as a final cut. A final severement to Unity sec. Once the results is in our hands, we no longer belong. The connection snapped. Gradually, we will fade and will be remembered as "graduates of 2005", not as class 45, 46, 47, 48. In our teachers' memories, our faces will eventually mesh together into one big sea of eyes and grins, our quirks and traits forgotten. Only the GPA of the entire class she had taught will remain, vague but existing, in her memory, a proof of her teaching capability.

Our registry ripped, shredded. Photos taken down. Any lingering sign of our presence in the school destroyed for the new Unitians. The classrooms that we dominate, the hallways that we ruled, now no longer ours. The school, now only a name to us ; Alma Mater.


No matter what they try to tell you about the Polys you re going, or the JCs you re heading, it will stilll hurt. To see them wiping clear the evidence you ever existed as a Unitian.

Go ahead, make my day. ( I dare you. )

Notice.
Author not in right frame of mind. Heartbeat is too fast, blood pressure is too high. Anything that is stated here cannot be taken into serious consideration. We apologize for the misunderstanding. Author will be back after she finish taking her Prozac pills and stop swearing at her airconditioner remote control.


I just got off a tiff with my mom.

Guess what was the topic?
OOOH SMART YOU ARE.
The release of the GCE O levels results.
Funny, isnt it.
It isnt even released yet and it had already stirred up a shitstorm in my household.

!@#%$#@!%^&*!(@
(i promised not to be crude and uncouth this 2oo6. )

It started out as a light conversation.
It ended with us hollaring at each other.


STOP THINKING IM GONNA GET INTO A FUCKING JC MOM.
I HAVE NOT GOTTEN THE STINKING PEICE OF PAPER. IT WILL BE GIVEN ON FRIDAY.
FRIDAY IS THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW, FOR YOUR FUCKING INFORMATION.
SO WILL YOU PLEASE GET OFF MY FUCKING BACK ABOUT IT. YOU WILL KNOW TOO SOON.
AND WHO KNOWS? WHEN I CALL YOU ON FRIDAY, SOBBING MY EYES OUT OVER THE TELEPHONE, TELLING YOU I CANT GET INTO A JC CUZ I GOT A FUCKING 30 YOU MIGHT WISH YOU DIDNT WANT TO KNOW SO SOON AFTER ALL.


Screw the resolution.
And screw MOE.

and my air conditioner remote control.

Courtesy Of PostSecret

PostSecret is an ongoing community art project where people mail-in their secrets anonymously on one side of a homemade postcard

You'll be suprised at the scandals you can read.
So hot I cant repeat it here. (:

So go on!
Go get scandalized!

Renuion

The Eve Of Lunar New Year.

In a few hours, I'll be down at TanglinHalt. Breathing in the smell of deep-frying, medicated oil and the musty scent that always linger around old apartments and yellowed novels.

Little tots will be running around, brandishing toy guns that emit beeps that are too loud, making manuvering around the already cramped space an ardous task, requring the swiftness and agility of a ballerina. Bored adolescents like me will be lounging around, mp3 earphones plugged into ears, blissfully oblivious to the croonings of the adults when a newborn baby is in the vicinity. All of us wishing, to be downing absolut vodka or ketel one instead of the bright yellow Yeo's packaged drink we were handed, while our fingers skilfully texting messages to fellow bored friends at their respective renuion dinners.

Or at least, I will be.

Fake-Gucci bags toting, velvet pants clad aunties will be conversing cheerily with (real) Hermes bags toting, Chanel clad wives/mothers. Age barrier regardless, there will always be topics woman can talk about. Like how the Singapore Sale is coming soon, ( regardless how the auntie will be snatching capris in John Little while the Career women will be waited hand and foot at the Paragon. ) and how so and so celebrity has slimmed so suspiciously fast while another had gained a disgraceful amount of weight. And so on and on...

While the men would be at the other corner, talking about the latest gadget in techonology and sleek fast cars, when all of the middle-aged fathers drive a Toyota or a Honda, while the new fathers and husbands are in proud possession of the latest Renault or Peugeot. Than on to the political side, as the male gender get all revved up talking about the Grand Election and The NKF saga, Self-righteous opinions and Holier-than-thou demeanour would start to show. However, in conclusion, all the males would nod their balding heads and agree PAP is still the best, because they painted their HDB blocks for free and allowed the Crazy Horse to perform in Singapore. Being males, they would not have the stamina we females have for gossiping, and would gradually recede into newspapers and the 7'oclock movie showing on Channel 5.


Its lovely to see how people of so different backgrounds can still get along so fabulously well.
Ah well, Family will always be family. In-laws or otherwise.
It was always the same, year after year. It was an annual routine, the topics hardly diverting to another other, the food hardly changing.
However, I look forward to every year's, the same routine, the same food, the same people. What with all the horrors happening in other parts of the world, it was deeply assuaging to know that some things never change, and will always provide the same comfort, the same safety. You ask for excitement in life, yes, but one needs stability too.

Once dinner was over, everyone would settle back, carnal appetities satiated, but for the woman, the hunger for more scandal and gossip would be growling, as they resumed from where they had left off.

Both men and children will be mesmerized by movies playing on telelvison, conversations were unnecessary. When the credits finally roll, the older will gradually nod off, the aftermath of the heavy dinner taking its toll, while the younger played java games on their parents phones, furiously jabbing keys, the competitive level rising.


Us bored angsty teens? Still wishing for the Absolut and Ketel one, while effortlessly texting messages across Singapore.
(:


Happy chinese new year, everyone.

Blossomed

Initially, I detested IJ.
I fretted everyday about going to school, and schemed to get out of it.

But life has a way of turning eveything on you.

Now I can sing like a duck and dance like a cow, in front of my beloved o623A.
You guys remember my signature song? HAHA. Eileen loves to hear it, Lisda runs away from it. My dears, Val & Hui crack up eveyime I started to warble.

It was the simple things that you remember.

Hui packing my bag for me when Im in the toilet. Getting icecream and cookies together. Booking the "chalet" and going insane inside. Dancing in the toilet with Val. Scaring the toilet auntie with our antics. Dancing EVERYWHERE with Val. Stealing leaves and feeding them to Hui. Us singing all the way to CWP.


Valerie, Meihui.
My crazy kakis. HAHA, we are always on high everyday, everytime. Be it over a centipede, my laughter, the poor trees Hui abused, or Val's AWFUL STUPID EXPRESSION. I love the way Val can sing right along with me, christmas songs, indian songs or whatsoever. I love how we always crack Hui up.

Valerie, MeiHui, PeiShan.
MY FAMILY! Haha, Peishan my lovely daughter, Valerie my unfaithful husband and Meihui our household domestic pet. WAHAH. Lets go crazy soon again alright?

Kim, XueLi, Eileen, Peiyu, Lisda, Kairyn and everyone else. Love to you too.

I dont love IJ. But I certainly adore you people and the rest of 0623A. I really hope we can get together after the first three months. I really do. (:

Quattro, Quatre, Cuatro?

4 Jobs you had in your life.

1. A daughter
2. A student
3. A friend
4. A Compaq Desktop Promoter @ the Nov'o5 Sitex show.

4 movies you could watch over and over.

1. A walk to Remember
2. Disney Cinderella
3. Sleeping Beauty
4. Beauty & The beast.

( Im childhood deprived. So sue me. )

4 Places you Lived.

1. Great aunt's house when I was a toddler and Mom&Dad were high flying whosoever.
2. Bukit Batok
3. Woodlands
4. Unity Secondary school. ( It was a second home. )

4 TV shows you love(d) to Watch.

1. Tom & Jerry
2. Pokemon & Power Rangers.
3. Charmed
4. Desperate Housewives

4 Places you've Been on Vacation.

1. Australia
2. Thailand
3. Port.Dickson(Msia)
4. Sentosa (:

4 Websites you visited daily.

1. 7s-.blogspot.com
2. Rants Of A Waiter
3. Friends' blogsites.
4. A Beautiful Revolution

4 Of your favourite Food.

1. Sambal Stingray
2. Sambal Kangkong
3. The Boney Cake from N.Y.D.C
4. Neighbour (Aunt Anna's) cooking. Heavenly, and so bleeding healthy too.

4 Places you would rather be.

1. Not in school
2. Australia.
3. Port Dickson
4. With loved ones.

4 Tagged

They should be thoroughly ashamed of themselves. Tsktsk.

Lull

I might not be updating for awhile.
(=

Need new materials, worthy of a post.
Nothing inspires me now.

Stay loyal.

Something.

I felt like I have to write something to keep this alive. Although I do not feel like writing anything and all I want is you guys to tag me but in order for you people to tag me, I have to write something even though I am most certainly not in the mood to write anything. but still i want you guys to write something in the Haloscan so I have to write some thing in order to let you people tag something. ALTHOUGH I dont feel like writing anything and couldnt think of anything to write of.

(:

Something Special.

OH SHUDDUP.

"Its your 1st day, naturally it wont turn out so great."

"It will get better."

"This is something you should have expected."

"Give it time..."


OH SHUDDUP.

I hate it at IJ. Don't preach me. I just want to rant.

Bugger. Pfffah.

I MISS USS people.

sighs.

Therapy, sort of.

I supposed its for the upcoming 2006,
or maybe its just because my mother has been nagging endlessly, months on end.

I shoved all my CDs, of all sorts, onto my bed.
( They were an unsightly pile anyway, heaping on the desks, and perched pecariously on the shelf, some were even flung carelessly into the niches of my room. )

I was in a foul mood, having an outing cancelled by a close friend, due to family obligations. And the weather was a bitch, the kind that gets on people's nerves. Hot and sticky, heavy and stifling. Accompanied by the recent dread ( or fear, i wasnt so sure ) for the 1st three trial months in IJC that was looming ever so omniously, nearer and nearer, yep, I was slipping into a fuckedup bitch mode, rapidly.

Clatter and crash, the discs were treated with indifference and unintended vengeance.

Sort and slot. Clatter and crash.

As the categorizing proceed, I threw away many unwanted/spoilt/useless discs. My pile of discs eventually grew lighter, and neater.

So did my deposition.

With every disc I tossed in the discard pile, I felt the tight knot in my heart loosening, the clatter and crash gradually got gentler, till it finally settled to a subtle click and clack.

I reckoned I heard a shudder of relief issuing from the pile of discs that had yet to be sorted.


The chore was then done. I stood up and surveyed my work. Discs slotted neatly into their respective compartments, a compact stack was tucked away in a corner. My room became unbelivably neat again.
(However, we all know that it will soon return to resembling something the pigs slept in once the month was over. )



Surprisingly, I was alright too. No, not cheerful, not yet. But I was no longer in an awful mood.

I lugged the big bag of discards into the rubbish chute. Tipping it over and closing the chute, I heard the consecutive clunks, bangs and a final satisfying crash.
My heart felt lighter too.


Afterwhich, with almost frightening timing, the sky opened up and heavy rain pour forth. dispelling the sticky heat.


I smiled.





For those who doubt, try clearing and sorting your impossibly messy paraphernaila on a bad day. Therapy, and its free. (:

Instead of sulking, try sorting. ( Terribly lame, I know. )
But maybe you'll feel better.

Not Just Face Deep.

Remember when we were small? And we would peer into the artificial (magical then) blue abyss of the public pool with mixture of curiosity, fear and that tantalizing flicker of the precious knowledge that we are attempting stuffs of which the consequences are unknown?

Dangle a (sacrificial) foot into the egnimatic depths and swish it in the cool water, shrieking in delight, for we have found a new source of amusement.

Emboldened and bolstered with this newfound knowledge, we would plunge into the pool, so certain, so sure, the floor was just beneath, a scant few metres below of said dangling feet.
Only to realize, a horrifying second too late, the floor is within the standing capability of our chubby appendages after all.

Sputtering and sobbing, we splished and splashed to the surface, crying to our over-anxious mothers, the newfound source of amusement morphing, ever so suddenly, into a newfound fear, another dreaded reason for those nightmares when we go to sleep at night again.

Ah, all you people taking physics would say, but the depth of the pool isn't based on the naked eye, but on refraction and all that shit. (Pardon the lady's uncouth language.)


But ah, put away your physics ladden mind and use your heart to think for a moment, anyone has a sense of deja vu?

How often, would you encounter such situations?

To feel, you understand someone or a certain situation, and find out, that the cut goes deeper, much deeper?

I feel suitably chastened, to be ashamed that I would dare to assume so much of something or someone.To pour my truckloads of petty problems onto her, but not return the favor. To not know, everybody has skeletons in their closets, and had not bothered to find out or help out, because I assumed she was alright. Because I assumed she was fine.

Because I accepted her surface and her polished exterior.

If I were a true & good friend, I would have probed deeper, find out more, and maybe did something to lessen her sufferings, her burdens.

To this, I'm sorry.
You know who you are.

Santa, thats my only wish this year.

Santa-

what I really want for Christmas this year is:

-Hungry kids not to be hungry anymore.
-World peace. (HAHA)
-Blessings for Victims of disasters and terrorists' attacks
-A new medical discovery to aid the sick.
-Cure for immortality.
-New Funds for the Handicapped kids.



and most of all...





...and a gleaming silver Jaguar wrapped up in a big red bow.
And oh, the keys are in a Tiffany box sent to me through FedEx, or UPS. I dont really give a hoot.
Oh yeah, I'll just let my dad drive it first.
I can wait till Im like 18 or something.




WHAT? Stop looking at me like that.

HOHOHO

'Tis the season to be jolly.

Familiar songs crooning in malls,
holly wreaths and tinsel balls.
Fir trees stand tall and proud,
its baubles radiant, clear and loud

Grampa in a red suit,
with a big tummy to boot.
Deep chuckles and roaring hohohos,
he's what the kids love the most.

Mistletoes and its cheeky purpose,
couples sharing those amorous kisses.
Fake snows and excited toddlers,
beautifully wrapped empty boxes.

So come on, Saint Nick is beckoning,
Toss away your doubts, stop your worrying.
Gather your sweetheart or friends so close,
savour the xmas warmth with those you cherish the most.

Wince.

Hello people.
My four days as a promoter for Compaq Computers is over.
( Thank the merciful Lord. )

And the fuits of my labour?

Gum infection, severe sorethroat, aching soles and muscle cramps...
and oh yes, 240 moolahs.

Big whoop.

Nerdette Geekette Loserette.

Dear.Lord.

The first day of a slew of an (almost) endless dizzingly free holidays, with nothing I HAVE to do, only things I WANT to do.

And what do I do?

I meld with my computer screen and develped a spritual bonding with the keyboard. HOO BOY.
I PLAYED NEOPETS.
Oh.My.Lord.

I PLAYED NEOPETS.


Someone save me. I fear for myself.

Excuse me, I think I have to feed my Shoyu pet now.

Finito.

*Releases great big pent up gush of air.

ITS OVER OVER O-V OVERRRR!
(prances around)

Its only expected for me to get so breathlessly excited.
After all, it isn't everyday you can finally say,

"MOM? GET OFF MY FUCKING BACK OKAY?
MY Os IS OVER. OVER ALRIGHT? TECHNICALLY FROM NOW ON, YOU CANNOT ASK ME TO HIT MY BOOKS. BECAUSE I HAVE NO BOOKS TO ACTUALLY "HIT".
I KNOW THAT MINE HAVING NOTHING TO DO EXCEPT FOT MINDLESS IDLING FOR DAYS ON END IS GETTING ON YOUR NERVES , BUT FRANKLY I DON"T GIVE A SHIT."

"HAH."

*sticks out tongue triumphantly.


Obviously, nothing good ever last. So I can only smirk for so long until the days the results are announced. My mom would be itching to get her two cents in then. ( told you to study already right! see! look at your results! dont say I never tell you arh! see la! play play play! you have no one to blame but yourself! )


But for now,she would just have to keep everything in. Hah.

WOOOTS. O LEVELS IS OVERRRR!
*resumes prancing.

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

Hysteria possessed me for a fleeting moment.

"What if I can't make it to JC? "
"Oh God, what if i only gotten a B3 for my English? Omg, what if its a B4 or 5?! Arggghh! "
"OHMYGOD what if I got more than 20 points?!"
"Oh no, what if I cant EVEN make it to a poly?"
"OH GOD WHAT IF I NEED TO RETAIN?"
"Oh my god I need a knife."
"OH MY GOD I CANT FIND A FRIGGING KNIFE! "

Yes, the thoughts tends to get more... agitated, shall we say, as it develops.
Maybe Amaths might do me some good, calm me down or something of that sort, yes.

Food For Thought.
Please chew carefully.

I was pondering as to whether I should post this up. Its has a bit of thought provoking depth. And whats with preparations for major exmainations, I suppose distractons would not be at all warmly recieved.

But as they say,
to the hell with it.

Many a times, we came to a pitstop in life that asks for compromises and crucial decisions. Being a typical human, the greed in us would naturally want both.

However, we all know better. It cannot be done.
Here, i post a series of questions, asking for the choice you would prefer.

Think carefully, my dears. (:

( The situation given is such that you would only be able to choose one. )

1) Lunch with long-lost aquaintance or movie with boyfriend?
( It would be your last before your death. )

2) A major heartbreak or a major exam ?

3) So much time that you become restless and bored, or a limited amount of time in which you would have to prepare for an exam?

4) So much freedom or your Mom ?

5) Be obese ( in which you cannot slim down ) and intelligent or Be beautiful and dumb?

6) Winning the million dollar jackpot or saving your aging parents?

7) In a case of a fire, saving your 10 years worth of memories accumulated in photos and journals, or saving all the valuables?

8) Dying and loved, alive and unloved?


(:
would adore to hear your ans from you all.

Bewitched.

So the fun has begun.

Sharpen your pencils, lick the nibs.
Get a ruler, and stop falling asleep.
Shuffle the pages, read carefully.
one time, two times or maybe three.

Get your mind to it,
get it done.
its only for an hour,
and maybe some.

Days will dash,
weeks will fly.
stop your moaning,
this is your last try.


Yeah it sounds juvenile and cheery leady, but thats the best i can come up with. Given the rushing and all that maths going into my head. (:
My apologies.

hello. (:

no profound thoughts, really.
pfffah.

chuckles.

By the way, in case your eyesight is as bad as mine, there's a haloscan located at the end of every post. But I still could not figure out the key to changing the colour so it wouldnt be so inconspicious.
So... there.

Drop a line, make me smile. (:

I have endless tasks to fulfill,
fun to be enjoyed,
movies to be caught,
photos to be snapped,
idle times to be spent,
food to be eaten,
games to be played,
serials to catch up,
shopping to be done,
chalets to be tonned,
books to be savoured,
weights to be lost,
exercise to be done,
mahjong games to be won ( HAHA, CARO )
and overall,
FUN TO BE HAD.



But the damned Os are standing in the way.
Bloody hell.

Grad night. 21.10.05

naturally, everyone went trigger-happy. flashes everywhere in the auditorium, you would have thought bae-fucking yongjun came in.

yeah well.



given the mood, everybody got teary. hugs were given and recieved. promises made, but will they be kept?

I hate pooping over parties, but the damned school havent got a clue, instead of playing the corny yet neverfails VitC- graduation, they played some song by celine dion and whatsoever by whosoever. Like, HELLO. I was prepared to sob like a shamin' baby, but OH NO THERE"S NO SONG.

Nevertheless, there are some who shed tears, guess i got to work on my emotion factor. But the feeling in my heart is bittersweet, and tugs painfully every second. how i wanted to cry too, to hug all my dears to tell them i love them admist all my tears. BUT I JUST COULDNT.

):

Looking around the hall, i realised how much i owe Unity. How many memories were encapsulated here, how many laughters, how much tears. How many screams and how many smiles.

How many friends.

When i was home, i blasted The VitC song in my comp and started to reminsce.

It hit me like a truck,

Im never going to have a chance to sing our school song again.
Im never going to walk by fourseven early in the morning, looking at those dears. Tong making Mel and Ying laugh. Han shushing them cuz she wants to study. Caro NEVER there cuz she's always late.

Into My own beloved nest, eugene yelling HEY TZEMIN! everytime i step in.
Shahril listening to his mp3.
Don rushing his geography homework.
Waiming and Bahri fooling around.
Joyce pouring over her idol mags.
Denise sleeping LIKE ALWAYS. (:
Pris not there yet, as she's always fashionably late, reaching the class at the last possible minute. Fengkai's booming voice to be heard from the room all the way to the Yangtze river in Goddamned China.
Zhiling's unearthly screams whenever some bug got the better of her.
Yuting's laughter, scaring the wits out of everyone.
Jeenson and John, teasing anyone in the vicinity, evoking laughter from Andrew, guoxiang and their fellow musketeers.
Karen's yells, cuz she's ALWAYS getting bullied.


Mr Tan's sesame street's antics and his sweet dimpled smile that we have came to LOVE AND HATE.
Mrs Tan's lovely smile, and losing her voice everytime she teaches us.
Mr Fan incessant nagging about how we should ASK HIM QUESTIONS, even if we dont take physics.
Mrs Kumar's no-nonsense sharp voice, silencing the class effectively.
Mrs Quah's high pitched voice, telling us about YET ANOTHER MOCK EXAM.
Mrs Chan fingernails-against-the-chalkboard voice, warning the class NOT to pon her Geog AEP.


How i will miss, how i will cherish.

The comfortable feeling of belonging, the lovely feeling of being loved by your friends.
The easy going demeanour, knowing full well you can yell to the class with no sense of self-consciousness or shyness.
Will I ever be able to do that in my new class next year?

Will I ever be able to walk in and know you made a difference and you truly belonged, their smiles, their laughters. How i love. (:

I will miss so much,
i will miss my stingrays binges with qiaozhen.
I will miss john mocking me as i lost to him in another maths test.
I will miss karen's incessant teasing, making me laugh everytime.
i will miss pricilla's adorable antics, exasperating me everytime.
i will miss my crude+gossipy conversations with my brother, peppered with fucks and bloody hells. RIGHT SHAHRIL? (:
I will miss Bahri my hunky babe, with his superlong lashes. His singing and his guitar-strumming.
I will miss Don and his superniceguy attitude. ALWAYS willing to place his ipod mini at my mercy. (:
I will even miss waiming's bloody irritating teases, always getting me all fired up.
I will miss eugene's NON-GENTLEMANLY attitude towards me, always treating me like im his guy friend. ASS.


I will miss being able to stand on a chair and shouting to the class with no fear that no one is going to even bother about me.
You guys built up my confidence, how could i not remember?


When i thought about all these, i broke down and sobbed.
I cried like i never cried before.


1/8,2/8,3/7,4/6.
Thank Lord.
He gave me four wonderful years, one hell of a secondary school life.

I dont think it can ever be beaten,
and that you guys can ever be replaced.

It struck me a few chapters ago that I had forgotten what day it was today.
It was on the part where I was pondering over Double circulation In Mammals, that I realized,

Hey, isnt today Saturday?
Oh No its not. Kidscentral is not playing Pokemon.
Its err..ahh..um, Monday? Oh Tuesay !

Promptly satisfied with my brillant deduction, I determinedly shoved my wavering concentration back to the fascinating text on why our busy blood cells needed to zip through the heart twice in one circulation.

Probably those little red dudes are on steroids. (:


Oh no,

that wasnt even remotely amusing.
*puts head in hands and shakes in despair*


Im going off the edge,
that i am.

never mind,
i set up a cbox.

For the love of God,
please bloody hell spend jst 30 seconds tagging something alright.

it doesnt take much of an effort to make me happy. (=

I cant get the haloscan up.

Any volunteers will be greatly appreciated
and rewarded......





BY MY LOVE! (=

WHAT? you thought i was going to PAY you?

( Sweet sixteenth, jas. May Friday noon rawk. (= )

Imagine.

Since young, I had a hankering for lovely hotel rooms.
Quirky, yes. I know that too. (=

I love the soft goose feather pillows, fluffy and sweet-smelling.
I adore the lovely oak furnitures.
I find joy in padding over thick carpeting.
I delight in the opulent bathroom, gleaming metal fixtures, smooth marble floor.
AND MY ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE,
the thick, fluffy and every so BIG white hotel towels.
Wrapping myself in it, I breathe in the clean refreshing scent. Intoxicating, the fresh smell of pure smell of cleanliness.

Yes, I have not missed out the finer point of hotel rooms.
How its miraculously and magically spick and span after the morning's disarray.
Magic little helpers, nimble little fingers and quick little feets.

I adore hotel rooms. (=

Emotionally wraught. Over-wrung.

I rode the train from YewTee to Newton, alighted, got back again, rode to Orchard.
Hesitated.
Town? My Os is looming over ever so omniously.
I opened my bag, saw my prelims results, the red scrawls mocking me.

" You think you will be able to get an A1? Keep dreaming !"
My amaths paper seemed to be sneering.

"You think you can get 10 points like Jieying? Dont be so unrealistic LA. "
Those red scribbles, dancing around, chanting like cruel kindergarden kids, taunting, scorning. Whispering to me, Im going to screw the most important exam in my school life.
Laughing, pointing, smirking.


I zipped it up, got out, and waited for the train heading back to Woodlands.

oh so its back.

what the hell.

IS THIS THING TOYING WITH ME?

FUCK AND DOUBLE FUCK.

I had too much time on my hands and just HAD TO GO FIDDLE with my html.

now my haloscan is gone.
!@#$%^^&(*&^%$#@ !

If somebody is such a DARLING to help me whack it back in shape, rest assured i will be eternally grateful.

HINT HINT AND BIGGER HINTS.

pretty please. (=

msg me for the username & password.

Satisfied.

Celebrated Yvonne's belated sixteenth at Kbox yesterday. A fabulous time would be a gross understatement. i ve never felt happier or more at high. There were tons of laughters, heaps of wild screaming, loads of off-key singing/screaming/crooning, and of course, countless good ol' girlish giggles and shrieks.

Sometimes, what a girl needs is some plain ol' girlish undulated FUN. Complete with singing, chocolate and your bunch of crazy whacky best friends. The ultimate formula for any mood-lifter.

Joyce bought the cake from Bakerzin. It was a decadent confection of thick chocolate mousse, sinful chocolate crunchies + hazelnuts. One bite alone would put any months of dieting to complete waste.

Naturally, we lapped it all up.

Jumping on the couches, dancing on the tables, singing so loud our fellow Kbox neighbours were looking over. Wistfully, i might add. (=
It was pure fun. Time zoom by like it was on steroids. Handphones were left neglected, as we throw ourselves into the moment, ignoring everything that was happening outeld of the four peeling sound-proof walls of our room.
Ruefully, 6pm came. The stereo went silent on auto. Miffed that those lifeless machine were dampening our fun, we continued singing into mikes, ( fortunately, it wasnt on auto off ) with no music, just the blend our voices, speaking of our friendship, everlasting. One song turn to ten, ten turned to twenty. The people were curious how we kept on singing, we were a spectacle. But who cared? (=

It was the best time in ages. And we came out, promising that our next date would be on the 7th Oct. This time its Jasmin and yuting's sweet sixteenth.

Another day of fun and magic, Im alight with anticipation.

Thank you girls, for making this special (=

When you try to get everything that belongs to stay with you, it just ends up drifting even further away.

Like an endlessy frustrating Venn disgram, my circle of friends will never intercept. I'm so exhausted, fatigue is eating me from the inside. In the process of trying to stay with everyone, inevitably, you tend to neglect.

It so tiring, so tiring i dont even feel like writing in perfect English, and use complicated words and analogies to mess up with what i really wanted to say in the first place.

GUYS, im pleading with you. Im seriously really tired. I am. I cant take this anymore. I always wonder, carolyn, how did you prefected this precarious balancing act? With so many friends?

I screwed up with the friends i started Sec3 with. The people whom i opted to 37 for.
I screwed up with jiayi.
I screwed up with the seven girls. somehow or another, I did.
I screwed up with pris and everyone else.

I screwed everything that was once precious and dear to me.

In a word, Im screwed.
Somehow, i reckoned Lord is hinting that something ought to be done.

Im so tired, really so tired.
Sighs.


( Happy Birthday, yvonne. )

Smiles for hire.

$5 smiles : Your friends would be able to see through the facade in an instant.

$10 smiles : After moments, your buddies would be able to sense that something is amiss.

$15 smiles : Will fool the crowd, but not your best friends.

$20 smiles: Even your buddy has to take some time to deciper whats wrong.

$100 grins : Everybody will think that you're happy and dont have a problem with the world.

which is generally what we are all looking for, isnt it?

Now, who wants to hire a smile to paste on for the rest of the day? To hide behind this mask, giving you an absolute opaque facade, hiding you from the scutinzing of the society.

sounds tempting. (:

Without her hooker drag, she looked positively chic.
Hermes and Prada,
Savaltore and Vuitton.

Her clients would be surprised.

Finding refuge from the biting cold in a red phone booth, her clumsy fingers fumbled with the coin slot, her quivering interior hidden by a fashionably large Burberry trenchcoat, portraying to the society a confident female, beautiful and inditimating. This masquerade, so cleverly staged, fooling the passing world. No, you could not see her bloodshot eyes, hidden by Gucci sunglasses, oh no, you certainly could not decipher her bruises and cuts on her otherwise flawless complexion, Anna Sui took care of that.

Those coulture vipers would have been proud of their products.

The coin finally complied, slotting in neatly. Trembling, she dialled the numbers that were imprinted in her memory for so long. So long, she never thought that she would ever have to use it. But reality revealed its cruel side, mocking her and her fervent prayers every night, her pleads to the Lord were all in vain. Tears stung her already swollen eyes, her lips quivering. as she recalled what had happened, her cheeks flushed with intense humiliation just by the mere thought.

Finally, as though her recepient could sense her pain, and was saving her from further recollection of her ordeal, picked up the phone, rasping a hoarse hello.

"M...Max? It's time. "

If you're old and have the shakes,
If all your bones are full of aches,
If you can hardly walk at all,
If living drives you up the wall,
If you're a grump and full of spite,
If you're a human parasite,
THEN WHAT YOU NEED IS A WONKA-VITE!

Your eyes will shine, your hair will grow,
your face and skin will start to glow,
Your rotten teeth will all drop out,
and in their place new teeth will sprout.
Those rolls of fat around your hips,
will vanish, and your wrinkled lips
will get so soft and rosy-pink
That all the boys will smile and wink
and whisper secretly that this
is just the girl they want to kiss!
but wait! For that is not the most
important thing of which to boast.
Good Looks you'll have, we've told you so,
But looks arent eveything, you know.
each pill, as well, to you will give,
AN EXTRA TWENTY YEARS TO LIVE!
So come, old friends, and do whats right!
lets make our lives as bright as bright!
Lets take a dose of this delight!
This heavenly magic dynamite!
You can't go wrong, you must go right,
ITS WILLY WONKA'S WONKA-VITE!


hoho. (:
Amaths is doing this to me.

bloody shambles,
thats the state of my mathematically-declined mind when im welcomed home by a abhorrent pile of mathematics prelim practice papers.

BAH. ):


biology prelims practical was horrible.
i was traumatized, i may never look at a fish in the same way again.

some people never cease to amaze me, truly.

I was at woodlands library, picking out materials t keep me happy during the rainy days, when i overheard this conversation between an evergreen secondary school girl and presumably her boyfriend who is dressed in pink puremilk ( good lord, he must be mighty confident of his masculinity ) and jeans. his hair seemed t be frozen, with every possible strand defying the law of gravity. I believe that if I ever attempt to hover a balloon near his crown, the explosion might distrupt the serenity of the place. ( His significant other was no better, her eyes veiled by her unnaturally straight haair, it makes one wonder if its safe for her to walk alone without killing herself. )

but lets run along now,

girl : eh, this girl very chio hor?
( they were pouring over an old issue of seventeen )
boy : ok only la.
girl : ( pouting, shoves the boy lightly ) dont pretend la, she chio right?
boy : ( smirking ) where got you so chio?

[ for people who do not understand twits language, what he meant was , " She is not as pretty as you " ]

girl : ( trying hard not preen but failing miserably ) no la, talk cock ! dun anyhow say !
boy : really la! you so chio ! i sumpa...

[ sumpa apparently means swear ]

girl : [ smiling like a viper ] then i ask you horr, me or xiaoling more chio?

[ xiaoling should be a fellow friend of hers whose looks she was apparently jealous of ]

boy : you la !
girl : ( trying not to preen like a peacock but yet failing once again ) you anyhow say de! i where got chio-er then xiaoling?
boy : (nodding in earnest now) got ! got !
girl : ( her head looks almost too big for her now ) bluff !
boy : ( seemed to have given up ) ok lorr. bluff de.
girl : (smile vanished) really arh?
boy : aiyo, dont know la.
girl : ( a pout that would have made Ms.Jolie proud ) ok lor.

blessed silence descends upon my ears once more.

i wonder what was it that girl really wanted?
my condolences to her boyfriend.

if you play maple story, you will have an inkling about what im talking about.

amusing,
to see an adorable bambi-eyed female character in a land of cute axe-stumps and bouncy little mushrooms, ruining the pretty palette of innocence and whimsicality of the game by sprouting a coarse air bubble.

"chee bye la"
" dun ks la"
"tok cork"
"nt happi ask ppl beat me larz"

it seemed oddly out of place next t monsters who looked like my plushies standing on my table.

comic-relief, anyone?

happy birthday.

almost imperceptibly, it flickered out.
melted wax and pulpy frosting,
melded into unregconizable clumps,
dotted the surface of the redundantly fancy confection.

asleep, little cone cap knocked askew.
painstakingly arranged hair wrecked by hours gone by.
a palette of gloss and blush, defaced by tears.
comically tagic scene, does such makes.

a card, laced trimmed production of three days,
whsipers of sentiments and unwavering promises,
speaks of her faithful devotion
clutched in her hand,
an almost vice-like grip.

the kitchen clock strikes three
he arrived,
amid drunken laughters and helpless giggles.
key clumsily shoved into lock, twisting.
a solitary ray fell across the room
she woke up and blinked,
focusing, and taking in,
what stood on her beloved's doorstep.

he wasn't alone.

she knew, all along
his eyes burning the most delightful warmth
imprinting.
leaving a mark that cannot be seen
all the facade, all the pretense,
this superb act, marvelous preformance for the rest of the unaware world.
stripped away, bare in every sense
as they met each other eyes, boy to girl.

mesmerizing, captivating.
this one precious moment of beautiful magic,
was the refuge from the pain she seek.
chemistry and common sense, one confusing tangle.

a shout, distrupt this timeless bound
as both broke away from the spell that held them captive
without a word, without a sound
they slip back into thier masks, expressionless and brief
back to the routines of their lives,
back to their mutual ignorance,

their magic momentarily dies, however,
knowing and anticipating
thier next game of this inexplicable love.

after tuesday, macdonald's would finally stop its infernal playing of the national day's MTV over and over again.

BLESSED BE. (:

choice.

while she loves her cadbury and worries over what major to take,
her innocence painfully endearing.

another prowls the street, and spread her legs
her only worries are pregnancy and AIDs



you sympathise,
but do you empathise?