True Identity

Today I reveal my true identity...

I am actually a man with sexy coconut shell boobs. Still, you gotta admit, what with being a man and all, I still look pretty good aye? ;)

And doesn't my scarf look good! :) :)

Black Is Not A Colour

this is morning,

night light and halos

words are all I can give you.

Think of Delicious and Interesting

Takoyaki/japanese dolls/magnetic gift cards

I reaaaally wanted to get one of the magnetic gift cards but they were expensive :(

Think of this as an elusive delight, an escapade of the soul. Because everything was too suffocating, there was no room for breathing.

With Tired Eyes

part one:

We are creatures of the night.

part two:
"see-suhs!" "seeee-suhrs!" "jian dao la stupid!"
"ta ma de SEE SUHS"
"SEI SUHS"

goodnight.

Relapse

Stayed back and watched the Theatre Studies' play Chamber Music (booklet from play above!) and it was humourously entertaining sitting on cushioned floors, "oh snow it's snow!" and mad hysterical laughter and schizophrenics trapped in an asylum with alter egos. They had a cool booklet design, look at the second picture - did you realise it was actually a skull if not a headless figure compared to the 1st one? :) I love the concept!

The day has been good to me I guess if you exclude the acute headaches going into relapse yet again which means more aspirin that doesn't seem to help, forgetting my Chem folder at school and loads of work to be done over course of the weekend and whole of next week.

You can't really concentrate when you're in pain, really. So now it feels like there are drills at the side of my head and noise makes it worst :( What a waste of Friday night. It's supposed to be fun and productive!

Oh golly gee.

Instantaneous

I finished "after the quake" today. I loved it as a book of short stories, especially the last one which was also my favourite - "Honey Pie", and it's because we all need happy endings in our lives. Sweet as honey, tangible yellow.

"I want to write about people who dream and wait for the night to end, who long for the light so they can hold the ones they love."

Maybe this random flutter of cheerfulness flew in, because today was a weird and unexpected day. Longer classes, epileptic lunchtime, skeptical all throughout Chemistry. I failed Bio this week, which wasn't surprising. French yesterday was quite much sleepwalking for me, too much sleep needed I guess.

I get a bit more excited at the thought of going home now. Because I get to shop for cheaper stationery (yay cheap thrills) and more good books! :) Not so much the food because I tend to lose my appetite the first week I go back, which is surprisingly odd because I know it's food that being missed most of the time. And because I miss friends, best friends, good friends, talking friends.

I miss having lunches like these


More sleep tonight because school starts 10.30am tomorrow :) oh joy.

Smoke and Air

i.

I start to cough and choke a bit. Then I notice the debris of ashes on my lap. They're white and black, powdery and stagnant. The sultry atmosphere with its humidity starts to irritate my eyes. They're dry and itchy.

"Doesn't it make you sick?", I start already knowing what to expect as an answer. Still, it feels odd and everything is swaying in motion now.
"Sure. It makes me sick, physically. One day I will die of this sickness, this unhealthy body. Other than that, I'm too used being sick without knowing what makes me sick anymore", followed by a shrug and even a weary smile.

One day you will make me sick and it will kill me first.

I hold his hand tight, and collapse into everything else. His fingers are twisted, palm warm and sticky at the same time. A flame burns from the other hand, between fore finger and middle finger, curled into their usual position. It's a death threat, that flame.

One day it will destroy us.

ii.

Julia is beautiful. I'm in love with her. "I love you till it makes me sick", I need to tell her that. She deserves to know.

-

Sundays are often depressing :( as it is now. Even more when I have to get up early and start a new week. I shouldn't be talking about my week to come be positve be positive be positive

Three tests on the same day be positive be positive be positive

Let's talk about the weather instead. Contrary to what books say, the weather is actually quite interesting to discuss. Winter is coming and my lips are more prone to bleeding, fingers turning into icicles, the smell of the heater. One month till I'll be home. Maybe I should start feeling more ecstatic. But not really :(

Random pondering

breakfast at tiffany's/long black
strawberry dipped chocolate at max brenner's

I'm actually on a fast right now (and for the next 12 hours) because I'm having my blood sample taken tomorrow. Come to think of it, I've never really been scared of needles - not up to the point where I hyperventilate and faint like Sim - and they're pretty much okay for me. I'm having my second headache in a row, popping aspirins isn't quite very effective after the headache has been hanging around since morning you see :(

Anyway, school photography is coming up! I am excited :))) But I don't know what to submit! Supposedly, the special "theme" this year is Rhythm and don't you think it's quite vague? Rhythm of life, sounds. But I have a few ideas in my head and I'm submitting a few photojournalism themed ones and a portrait perhaps? (hehehehehe Michie you are in one of them!)

My exams actually start in 2 weeks and the threatening thing is that the course marks count towards my Uni score!!!! *cue eerie music* Let me actually elaborate and boast a bit, because I'm taking A-levels equivalent for my Bio course. You see, the thing with Bio is, it's a love-hate relationship. Love: because it sounds cool when you know that phagocytes are your first line of defence in the immune system and MS sounds waaaaay cooler when you speak Bio jargon. Hate: I understand nothing of it. And the worst part is, I don't even feel guilty for not knowing any of it. But not without a reason! Bio for two hours on a friday afternoon is a killer. (!!!!!)

I shall retire and do pointless things which exclude anything to do with Bio :)

edit/ Of all the reasons I get upset for, this one is quite intolerable. This is beyond exasperation and I'm not only talking about the sickening optimism. That fake cheerfulness is bringing you nowhere because you don't mean it. The whole repertoire of acts, all the fiddling with desperation and disrespect. The cold-blooded unmeaningful apology is not going to work this time. In fact, you won't even have enough trust in anyone for them to believe you. I am angry for that. I am angry for the irresponsible, mindless and thoughtless exclaims. I am angry because of the negligence of the wrongs, the excuses made every damn time sense is being said and yet is being hopelessly ignored. I am angry because of insincerity of every word.

:\

And All That Jazz

No I am still not recovered being angry and today has manifested into something worst :\ sucky! But it's so dull to always talk about being busy, angry, or just somewhat... sad. So this was actually a discovery I made last Sunday morning!!! Hopefully this will sound more... cheerful?

Anyway, aside from my ever growing obsession towards The Vitamin String Quartet, (if you haven't heard of them it is the time you knock yourself awake and realise how good they are thank you) I woke up Sunday morning to discover best jazz singer in the local scene, ever:

Mia Palencia.

Tell me how can you not love that husky voice and soothing music?! :)

I also (finally) started using my planner - yes after 5 months I know, I can be very disorganized- and decorating it with doodles and whatnot. Tell me when is your birthday so I can scribble something on that day! ;)

*exhales* I hope I didn't sound too wrecked this time. More maths for me. More graphs. More equations :( More tests. And three folio due in two weeks! Oh fun fun fun.

But I am also glad the week is coming to an end if I can make through tomorrow with good hopes.

more happy things:

Anger That Grows

There is a desperate anger. The self reproducing fury multiplies, extends, creates, there is anger inside outside, everywhere. Almost omnipotent. Anger is not god. Anger shouldn’t control. But it is. Stop telling me that I won't get as far as everyone else has because I'm incapable of doing so, I’m getting sick of this week (if I haven’t already got sick of the last urgh) and only plowing through every open-ended dream. It’s Wednesday and it’s though I’m stuck in the middle of the week, or maybe the busyness caught out with me. Whatever it is, everything seems warped in time and things that are supposed to go slow go fast and vice versa. Warped anger. Everything deals with anger nowadays today

I am getting so sick of this routine. I hate having no one to talk with, rushing through all my work, and never enough time. Never ever ever. I start to make no sense.:(

I don't know what to talk about. It's almost as if I've become such a boring person with boring words with melancholic writing that no one really cares for because all everyone wants isn't here. And these boring words will make me sick because I don't like any of it.

*more sad smileys*

Maybe you should pay less attention and do more, whoever this is for. Maybe I have at least a sense of self integrity and you don't, you should learn. Wake up and learn. We keep talking about equality all the time but why are you imposing yourself as if you're superior than any one of us? I shouldn't even be wasting time here; time is money, time is life. I don't even know who this is for anymore. But there will always be people who befalls into this category of self-righteousness and overcharacterized behaviour. Maybe guilt will do you some good.

And some sleep will do to me.

I'm sorry this had to be an angry ransty post :( Goodnight.

A Late Night

I am sick with the hunger inside my gut. Something physical, maybe another element of illness as well. These are moment of passing, drags of inhibition and unforeseen danger. Littered numbers and 26 alphabets, greek letterings and stars, the night sky is shielded beneath the white blinds, the locked keys, the pulleys of will. Something stirs inside me, irks and I jerk away from it. “you can’t hide forever” – the voices are catching up, I collect it and put it neatly into the jar. Everything is made into a list, ordered and fair and just and perfectly lined. Initially I had so many things to talk about this week, small and intricate things; seconds that lasted which made me smile in delicate indulgence when I allow myself to, falling in love with the lively demeanor of a fourteen year old girl, chasing memories. But now everything looks disfigured, melted into each other. The laughter distorts and clamors onto hysteria, they eat each other up, it becomes nothing more than a disappearing act.

It ends with logical laughter, “i ate ethanol and i saw Einstein”(haha yes thank you Ty) and I know I am still safe, at least for this round.

p/s:

"Oh, you're so sweet. And maybe I'd look lovely, darling, and be so thin and exciting to you and you'll fall in love with me all over again."
"Hell," I said. "I love you enough now. What do you want to do? Ruin me?"
"Yes. I want to ruin you."
"Good," I said, "that's what I want too."


Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

I want to read that.

Blowing Out Candles for Love

Better to have loved and lost or not to have loved at all?

I believe in determination for this answer. This is too easy, I think. I choose the former because I believe in it. It’s so easy to just say that, without any thinking.

Sometimes I am too ashamed to admit that I was convinced I was in love, because who would ever say that full-heartedly? I could say I was blithe in my manner, seemingly enjoying the surprises and made up stories and the sweetest travel days.

At six, I began wishing for a younger baby brother or sister every birthday. Every Christmas eve, blowing out pink waxed candles, clasping hands, smile-for-the-camera-moments, and when asked “What did you wish for?” I deliriously returned with fervor and blissful giddiness that one day it will come true and I will someone new to play with or teach (oh dear the whole bossy sister act). Then I was twelve, it stopped. I know wishing for six years straight isn’t going to make anything come true. I used to think if you get married again you’d get another child – this is one of my best precious secrets and it makes me laugh at my naivety – but it wasn’t till books and knowledge then I realized you don’t make babies like that. So it stopped, I stopped wishing.

At thirteen, I began to wish for happiness and laughter and joy and new phones and forever. I wished for secrets that will make me happy, everything that would surprise me. At fourteen, I didn’t know so I wished for love and good friends and forever. Fifteen I couldn’t remember. Sixteen was last December, and I wished and I wished for happiness and forever. Any suggestions for seventeen?

This is the moment where I gasp and remark, I am so young. And I am :)

What makes youth an age-old innocence?

Save Polaroid

(click)

And you can sign the petition while you're at that, too.

Three wishes

Do you like Shakespeare? if so what is your favourite Shakespearean play and why?

I must confess, save for a few sonnets and apart from studying Romeo and Juliet last year I haven’t read any of his plays so I can’t really say which one is my favourite :\ but Shakespeare is quite a genius I must say, though hard to understand. So I’m looking forward to studying Macbeth next semester ;) But if I were to read them, I think I'll probably like him. Afterall, it's Shakespeare! And filled with metaphors - me likey.

I remember this from last year - "O I am fortune's fool!" ;) and I know "to be or not to be" heh heh heh.

What do you dream of?

Just vaguely, I can recall familiar faces and conversations but usually I don't quite remember at all :( sad because I used to ponder and be amused on every single detail of my dreams when they are still fresh when I wake from sleep. But alas, now I cannot :( :( But if I were to describe it, I know there will always be friends and strangers alike, and sometimes friends become strangers and there will be ellipses and moments where I speak fondly to someone I have completely no clue of. There will be blurry backgrounds and grey undistinguished substances lurking around but I suspect that's because dreams are so liquidified and unbounded.

And then there are simply odd moments of serendipity, euphoria and joy - things that I would never dream (me with my puns again) of saying and doing. Sometimes you feel a bit more freedom in dreams, the way the ethereal state of it lets you take longer strides, yet your legs feel like rubber, you rewind the scenes and repeat them. I dream of long lost love, people I don't talk to as much as I would like to, sceneries, series of old dreams recurring, and most possibly everything else I don't have the courage to face in real life :\

Maybe that's life.

and a light-hearted one,

Do you like seriously tall guys?

Hahahaha, contrary to what you think Min, I don't have a preference ok! :P Not that I'll ever have trouble finding people that are taller than me, since I'm so vertically challenged :( *jumps jumps*

:) well goodnight dreamers!

"and kisses are a far better fate than wisdom"

edit/ this is tiff's questions of why, where, when, what, who of first kiss. :( :( but someone (especially the person who asked the question AHEM) says it's so Da Vinci code-like. !!! :(

a few more answered: Why do cows jump over the moon? I haven't got a clue why and because it's not scientifically proven! Maybe it's because moon is made out of cheese. Maybe the cow got angry that we're overslaughtering their species to make cheese from cow milk and therefore decided that jumping over the moons would avenge them. Crazy cows. No wonder there's mad cow disease. har har :)

and yes jon, we will go out for coffee and bitchtalk about people ;) I promise upon my berriness. Hahaha :)

-

kisses,

prologue:

In most ways, I will say I don’t remember how they taste like, if they were a rush of fluttery desire and excitement while everything just stops. But I remember sleep and I remember warm blankets, but to recall contact can be wearisome. I’ve been delaying writing this because I keep trying to remember what was fact and not fiction, what was at the time considered real. I don’t know what the kisses are supposed to mean, if “I love you, really” is a gesture of empathy because we needed security, and a moment of perfect clasp. And if silence is a muted recognition, that was my answer. Sometimes it takes a while for me to realise that if I said anything afterwards, I would end up lying anyway. As to why, I can only guess. Why kisses? A need for closeness, an intimacy within reach of easiest convenience. Physical contact always drives us somewhere isolated and in some ways, romantic. In retrospect, I know of my dry almost-bleeding lips (as always) the rough texture against warm and cold surroundings. Then pressure, then slicking of lips.

Everything will seem so distant now, but it was warm. Goddamn heat, I remember. Irradiation of my skin, radiation of those glares – I don’t believe in enough to find courage to look straight –they were enough to make me feel faint, dizzy with anger and dissatisfaction. I don’t think it was any consolation if then when I am told I have nice eyes, I don’t think anything is ever good enough for you, really. And then it was mid afternoon (I would say summer but summer’s hotter) and the dawn before I left Rome, on the glimpse of being whisked away to the city of lights, the wonderful European cities. If anything, I was drowned with wanderlust and giddy with nervous apprehension of foreign sights and new skies. Then everything really didn’t seem so important.

There were window grills and overhead shelves, comics and a cluttered floor. “oh god your room is so messy” – and then, fatigue and sleep. And then the kisses. In that chronological order.

And then the question, who?

It's so simple. The question answers itself ;)

epilogue: Maybe my memory's like a whitewashed wall, eroded by everything and I can't phase through them in detail. Maybe I'm mistaken by what I said about passion and affections, maybe I'm wrong. But it doesn't mean that you were right either.