i have a few minutes to write a post before the song ends and i have to leave. still don't understand why i'm so busy all the time but it effaces the emptiness within me, to put it in an artistic way. life has been great. it's been hectic and exhausting but amazing. i've been slacking on my writing, firstly because i've been too busy to properly sit down and mull and wait for inspiration to arrive, and secondly and more importantly... i've been happy. happiness is annoying. it feels good, of course, but it's like the panacea to inspiration and writing, especially in my case since my theme tends to revolve around the grotesque, macabre, melancholic, depressing, and dark stuff. been trying to branch out into the happier themes like love at first sight or pure love or people in love rather than people out of love and dying or on the floor on their own pool of blood. trying.

i guess that is all to my life lately, having fun whilst trying to write. all will change when national service comes.

this song is beautiful:

i have given up documenting my life on a daily basis because i can't remember what i do during specific days; days no longer matter to me because they all represent free-time before i enlist into the army. so instead i will put pictures and for stuff that lacks pictures i would probably slip in at the end:

teng and ball at chillin' area plus secret brick wall.

meet Mask, tuls' amazingly cute husky.

catching up with the ivy with fatteh.

and yesterday, where i had one of my bad days in lazy clothes.

and here is larmy reading a book about life (seriously).

---

somewhere along the week(s) i went to:

Town and Chinatown with the michenator and then cut clothes up at my place.

Mdm Wong's, Tantric, dymk, Play, Taboo, Avalon (on Sunday); gay pubs and clubs. the gay nightlife is a hundred times better than the straight nightlife. seriously, once you visit gay clubs you'll never want to go back to straight clubs again. friendlier (much more) people with the same if not more energy.

a christmas party and the Aladdin cast (musical) house party (that moved to Avalon thereafter).

that is probably all.

day 17 poetry:

the dust settled but the storm continues to rage --
apart, they are a part,
and they continue to remain broken,
like the sharp edges of window shards.

they try to hold one another
they cut each other
they try to hold on
they hurt each other.

the dust disperses but the storm has calmed;
they stand apart, no longer a part.

they cannot.

can--
not.

---

okay, i don't really consider this a good piece but i've sort of injected a lot of myself into this. didn't know how to properly pen my emotions into a proper piece so being the lazy lit-student all i did was employ the use of form. actually the entire poem relies solely on form: incredibly fragmented sentences and stanzas. i don't know, i quite like it. if i divulge the meaning it would probably make more sense but then that would ruin the fun. so.

oh, the first two sentences can be read in three different ways. just saying.

day 16 poetry:

is (here)

---

i feel like i shouldn't be trying to write both a prose and poetry everyday. like if it comes naturally then that's awesome but if it doesn't then i shouldn't be trying because i feel like when i force myself to write something then the meaning behind it wouldn't be as genuine as inspiration would. so yeah, i'll only do either prose or poetry a day from now on and if it's a good day then there'll be both (or more, or two of the same styles).

as of late:

day 15 prose:

his heart cried and wrenched to the aching emptiness inside. there was nothing he could do now but regret. regret. it was raining outside but in his heart was the storm of the century. he felt the gale tearing him apart from side to side and the deluge threatening to drown him, but he knew it was only his heart that had the power to make him feel like death should take him away tonight; he knew that it was only her who could make his heart feel this way: skip a beat, pulsate, race, and now pause, stop, and ache with despair. there was nothing he could do but regret.

she was gone with the pliers to his heart.

---

poetry (here)

day 14 prose:

i thought i knew you, just a little bit, i thought i knew what you were thinking, just a little bit. i thought... you and i -- i thought we'd be together for a really long time, and i was banking all my hopes on that, i really was. ... but i was wrong, i thought wrong. just like that; sucks, doesn't it? one misstep and everything crashes, one misstep and all the steps behind crumbles. you can neither move forward nor return to the safe place you came from. you're just -- stuck.

i thought i love you, but now i know i loved you, because i thought i knew you, but i now i know i never did. you were like a stranger -- no, you were like the illusionary havens the dying sees in the midst of a desert, they crawl towards it, but all they get is nothing; nothing and disillusion.

---

poetry (here)

day 13 poetry:

tender
was the night as he
fell from his bed.

he cried
but realised
he was alone;
alone in his room
and alone in this house.

he got up
and wiped his eyes
like a child who's lost
its fight,
and went back to bed,

alone in his room,
and alone in this house --
his home that he had bought.

---

prose (here)

day 12 prose:

contractors, contraction, contracted -- the woods started closing around her. she wasn't breathing, she couldn't. she wasn't moving, she couldn't. she wasn't doing anything, she couldn't. they ignored her as they carried on with their lives, doing exactly what they were told -- the architecture's mad wishes. strangely, what surrounded her had no leaves -- or no branches for a matter of fact, and the geometry was too perfect for it to be natural. it was man-made.

it wasn't the woods that were surrounding her, it was wood. it was wood that was being placed in a rectangular shape around her.
she was in a coffin.

oh right! she was dead.
she wasn't doing anything, she couldn't.

---

poem (here)

prom:

prom was incredibly lame. this isn't a very promising first sentence but yeah, prom was lame. though i mean the event, not the day itself. it was so lame that more than half the time our table was empty. like the food was just placed there for flies while we were outside the hall or in our rooms having our own fun. but then again, everyone inside was cheering and shouting and screaming like it was the best day of their lives, and i mean everyone. so it's probably just us luh, we're a problematic, dysfunctional group of people. but really, i thought prom would be super classy and everything but it turned out to be a failed party instead. host with bad grammar and pronunciation (and enunciation), bad music, and bad everything luh generally. i guess the easiest way to sum up our lack of interest is how he's always 'has every table came up to get the paper?', 'uhhh, i don't think every group is up here', 'i think a table didn't write their names and numbers', and 'okay never-mind, i think we got an extra piece'. we were that uninterested.

still, prom was freaking amazing. best night of my 18 years thus far! pictures plus captions:

day 11 prose:

two hour has passed but the woman still remains rooted to that exact spot she had been in upon her entrance. what is different, however, is how she no longer wears that look of excitement and felicity she did as he saw her entering, almost prancing, through the entrance -- two hours ago. instead, her face has become sort of a mixture of anxiety, worry, and melancholy. he does not know why, he does not think that it is in his place to ask why either.

he rotates his chair to follow her eyes and sees her staring at a man in a jet-black suit approaching her, strangely wishing that it was the person she was waiting for. regardless, he would not know even if it was him since he is a distance away and it is not in his place to know anyway. he sees the man leaning towards the woman and whispering in a way he thought was too professional while her countenance with overflowed with eagerness.

and as soon as he leaned back to walk away from her swiftly, he saw her face contort into an expression he has never quite seen before yet knew what it was: despair and grief. he saw tears trickling -- then pouring from her eyes as her knees gave way and she collapsed onto the marble. he got up to walk towards her but stopped, thinking that it was none of his business, and not in his place either. biting his lip he shuffled through the idea of leaving the scene or going up to help her. he swore under his breath and went up to her.

"hey ma'm," he awkwardly asked, "what's wrong?"

---

PLAYING WITH POINTS OF VIEW SO YEAH. IT'S PRETTY BAD ACTUALLY, not in a humble way but in a seriously-it's-quite-bad way. too many adjectives and tautology. but i don't know how to inject expression into a stranger observing an emotional situation! gah, hopefully i'll get better.

anyway,

poetry (here)

day 10 prose:

her eyes flickered open: pupils dilated and glistening beneath the street lamps; street lamps which fail in their occupation as all they did was shroud the area with a depressing yellow and cast grim, menacing shadows. she sighs and watches her breath condense into a gloomy fog before dissipating into darkness... just like the rest, she thought, flicking her fingers and drawing a deep breath. she could feel the nicotine glue to her lungs and take effect: a mild euphoria billowing from her chest, of which died almost instantaneously-- she had done this too much and too long for it to have a lasting effect. forget it, she thought as she released the stick and watch it fall to the ground before crushing it with her foot.

---

poetry (here)

day 9 prose:

we paint ourselves in such demeaning ways just to vie for the attention of inattentive people; inattentive people we fall for, that is. jump through hoops (hoops on fire!), scale mountains (without a harness!), swim across oceans (sharks, oh sharks!), and everything else that risks our lives. we humiliate ourselves (rather willingly, i must say) doing the strangest, most hilarious things we never thought we would ever do (perform). and funnily enough, we continue doing these things even when our attention-seeking ways come to naught! such fervent perseverance (more like foolish pursuit) displaying our passionate (naive) character. even if this relentless race reaches nowhere we'll still continue to run (i'm sure we would!).

and for what? for love of course!

---

poetry (here)

crease:

okay i've been trying to iron my shirt for the past hour and a half and it still looks wrinkly. Z says cotton's difficult to iron and creases easily. ugh. so fuck it, i'm just gonna iron the visible parts through the blazer. HAHAHA. even then those parts still look wrinkly. i don't get it. i pass the iron through it and i look at it and there are still creases everywhere.

now i feel like writing a poem about creases.

2 days and creeping thoughts;

weekends are much more relaxing. still didn't get my 12 hour sleep because for some reason my body's attuned to wake up at 8.30 or latest 9.30.

day 8 poetry:

puff:
fire
ablaze near
her fingers, the stick burns
brilliantly. her mouth closes;
chest heaving greedily while
her pupils dilate.

in the moment
at that moment
she felt complete --
completion,
and desertion:
puff,
the smoke billows
and clouds
everything.

--

prose (here)

day 7 poetry:

her memory
ripped --
her like gale
to a blade of grass.

she swam in despair
but it was too much
for her. it pulled her
down like the tentacles
of an octopus.
she was dro--
drowning.

the thunderstorm
hit her -- a face
full of glass...
more like the tip of
a blade to a shaking wrist.

---

prose (here)

day 6 poetry:

how she had been waiting
so wholeheartedly and excited
at the airport,

that you should have seen her
when it was someone else instead of him
that arrived
with news of tragedy

that you should have seen her
face evolve from one of disbelief
into an incoherent mess
as she fell to her knees.

---

prose (here)

past 3 days;

today has been a day of complete inertia. i've had a 10-hour sleep (not 12-hour yet but that's good enough), woke up, ate, read, read some more, wrote, wrote a lot, game a little and then got bored, finally browsed my abandoned August magazines (which i tragically have yet to master reading it rather than skimming through for pictures), and now i am here blogging. i meant to go to the gym but my helper's still here after a really long time, not that i'm complaining (of course not) since the house is now spotless. so anyway, i guess i'll just talk about my past 3 days:

day 5 poetry:

the view
no one could truly appreciate
that view she had left us with --
the flowers she had so painstakingly
planted, which were set against the beaming
sun, or the perfectly groomed
house with everything
in place and nothing
you could find fault
in.

no one could truly appreciate
the view she had left us with --
that beautiful box, so wonderfully carved
with its intricacy and perfection,
which she now sleeps in forever.

---

prose (here)

life as of late:

i'm about to head to amore but i don't wanna leave just yet because my coffee isn't finished yet and i'm too lazy to move (or even put on clothes). so i'll just ramble as usual:

day 4 poetry:

that unspeakable moment that left
us

heart --

wrenched
and riddled with grief;
overwhelmed in
paralysing melancholy.

we swore never to speak
of it again but little
did we know how
it only became stronger;
that insidious pain with a grip
on our entire being that sucks
the breath, and binds
our bones.

we are broken --
silent sufferers.

---

prose (here)

fuck, what is with all these negative thoughts overwhelming my mind.

day 3 prose:

hollow pins lay scattered across the floor she sees no need in picking them up. by the corner she weeps and longs, longs and weeps for the salvation she's recently been waiting for.
and then it came, that euphoria as endorphins flood her brain.
but then it went, that euphoria deadly, deadening her veins.
her pieces of her fragile heart shattered even further, shattered into dust that nobody could or wanted to sweep up,

damaged goods she was, they would all mutter amongst themselves while stealing glances at her as she traversed the unknown. oh how they didn't see the superflous mountains residing across her thighs and wrists, how they didn't know the death of her family leading to the death of herself.

she has been silent, and she has decided to remain silent for as long as she can,

or as long as it takes for her to finally break apart.

---

poetry (here)

day 2 poetry:

loose
fingers trailed the empty sheets next to her;
her puffy eyes loosely forms a shadow of a figure
that no longer slept
there.

numbed
emotions rob her of her sanity;
her thoughts a cataclysmic mess, she grips her body
that heaves and lurches and crumples.

darkening
skies and heart, the window chatters
with the jarring howls of a thunderstorm

she awakes
and sighs,

she is alone.

day 1 poetry:

blood red
lips
that stained
the whitest
and purest
sheets.

most
of all
was how
it only
took a
minute
to take
everything
away,
everything.

---

okay i admit, it took me only 5 mins to write this but it's cos' i already had the idea in mind this morning and i was dead set on using superlatives and imperatives to coin this (which i realise i shouldn't be revealing the meaning of my poems since a reader's interpretation is subjective).

prose on tumblr here

post A's.

HI. A's are finally over and like a liberated sex slave we partied at Kaede's house later that evening. We had potluck and i made (bought and brought) nuggets. i thought mine was the best food in comparison to Dewi's mom's amazing amazing pasta, Tul's mom's awesome awesome pasta salad (it was so good even without the pasta), Larry's mom's potato-mushroom-chicken dish, Sarah's chicken wings, Farisha's godly brownies (THEY TASTE LIKE THEY HAVE WEED IN THEM), Liyana's mom's caramel bread pudding, and Kaede's dad's soup (that also worked as a shabu-shabu base). Mine was the best because i actually made it myself compared to everyone else -- okay sarah made hers too luh, probably from scratch rather than a frozen-ass packaging. oh, and Vas brought drinks.

Anyway, EVERYONE was late except Tuls, Fari, and I.

and then we watched a 3D movie but people with glasses get bad migraines pretty quickly so we changed it to boring-2D. Monster House.

and this is what Kaede can see everyday if she stays with her dad permanently. amazing no? you can actually see MBS from her apartment.

some of the food. look at that awesome salad with sundried tomatoes, apple cubes, tomatoes, pasta, edamame, and other stuff. and look at that late of chicken above, it used to be a whole chicken but masterchef-me with my nimble wrists and kaede's dad's creepily overly sharp knives turned it into individual pieces. 

we karaoke-d a lot. and i reached home around 1-ish. everything was awesome.

okay, i'm lazy to elaborate so there's that.

it was a good end to the day, and a good start to post-A's life.

okay gonna go to amore now, and i think today marks the start of my 30-day writing; shall do one tonight.

last day, last day:

it's 11.30 am and i really should be giving it my all for tomorrow. i just no longer have the mood to study with all these plans i have for after the exam. and it's not that i've lost my drive, actually to be losing your drive before the last paper is incredibly stupid. nah, i've lost it halfway through but found it again an hour later (i bounce back really quick).
so tired, so tired. but heck, last lap (omg this has quickly become a cliche) so i'll be giving it everything i've got.
goodbye.

A' levels ain't over yet but i've already planned out my schedule for next few days following that:

friday (after the paper): taper jeans, grab ingredients for potluck, larmy's house to chill, kae's house for potluck.

saturday: gym, larmy's coming over to chill, dinner

sunday: sleep in, gym, read, write (will probably being my 30-day writing)

monday: gym, prom shopping

tuesday: facial (ikr, with ethel and ball btw), accompanying them to the salon, awesome dinner

wednesday: gym, laze around, read

---

i feel incredibly scared that i'm not completely prepared for the paper on friday, but there's also a buzzing anticipation for it to just be done with.

so brit lit was awesome today, though it wasn't exactly my best. but seriously, i felt incredibly witty doing the unseen; thatcher likened to adolf hitler and even the devil. you should have seen my stupid grin as i wrote the paper. my worst turned out to be my best.
didn't think i did well for Kureishi and Hare (best being the worst) so fingers crossed.

with that aside, i'm only one paper away from freedom and the anticipation is driving me crazy. it's actually not one paper but half a paper since physical geog is over (which was fucking horrible by the way). all i gotta do now is give everything i've got (even more than the other subjects) to make up for the crappy answers i had in physical and i'm done for life, no more geography and no more economics (unless god forbid i end up majoring/minoring in them).

yeah...

p.s, my independence scares me sometimes, especially when it develops into some sick desire for isolation. don't get me wrong, i love company (of certain people); but i don't know, it's the company that often leads to a yearning for some me-time. okay, no time for pensive thoughts.

what to do after A's:

1. camp at the gym
2. buy shoes
3. initiate 30-day writing (prose & poetry)
4. cook
5. intern (still deciding where)
6. read
7. outdoors (preferably nature i.e with grass/sand)
8. art-related-craft
9. sleep in (i need a 12-hour sleep)
10. meet everyone i've been missing so dearly.

asphyxiation:

the incoherent mass that reduced her into a mess crippled every sensation she has ever felt since her malaise. she lay sprawled on the bathroom floor, covered in her own blood dripping endlessly from the slit she meticulously incised. cigarette in the unmarked hand, she stared nonchalantly at the ripples the droplets would stir; how the calm crimson ocean was enraged by the intrusion of its source. the doorbell has been ringing incessantly for hours, but she saw no point in exertion -- she couldn't even if she wanted to anyway. the room was darkening, but that insidious euphoria that pricked her continued to remain by her side, an old time companion since her days from countless hospitals; hospitals she knew she would never escape if they were to grab hold of her.
she jolted; the cigarette had shortened till it burned her fingers. her surroundings sprung back to life and she scowled, then curiously staring at the blackened mark it has left upon her pallid, aching phalanges.

without warning, a figure burst into the room with a mixture of relief and appall. what are you doing? he exclaimed but expected no answer. in seconds he returned with a towel and lifted her by her shoulders, his unconscious tears further upsetting the red ocean while it spilled across the ivory tiles. she looked at him with eyes of pain and obediently swallowed the pills he gently deposited into her mouth and he stopped walking, his eyes glistening.

and they stood there for a moment, both torn and jaded but grateful with each other's presence as he wrapped the towel across the large scars where her breasts were supposed to be.

so fucking disappointed with myself. i don't think i did my best for the physical geog paper. I KNOW i shouldn't be all mopey and shit and it's not like i screwed up the entire paper but just part of an essay (which was 16 marks mind you and i've lost 8 marks for sure). i am going to be studying like crazy for human geography to make up for that. fuck you A' levels, fuck you.

if you're homesick

---

flaws:

body slouched in the bathroom, the girl cringes at the sight of the mirror. she closes her eyes and inhales deeply before opening them to the ghastly figure standing in front of her. she stares at her face, battered with bruises and pits and scars and stained with blotches of red all over. she sighs while her fingers greedily trace every nook and crevice they could find, like the insidious tentacles of an octopus out for blood. her fingers wanted more, and so they sidled down across her face and towards her torso, grabbing and clawing at her bare chest along its way. she stopped above her pit and swore, pinching (as much as could) her skin as though threatening to rip it out. she was close to tears, but there weren’t done yet and clung onto her even tighter. she continued to stare at the figure, albeit now in a disgusting manner. she couldn’t stand what she was seeing! red marks defile her pale skin and continue to grow as those whips lash at whatever they could reach. she sobbed but they wouldn’t stop; they wouldn’t stop till she could take it no longer and collapsed onto the cold tiles.

flaws, but only she could see them.

---

i don't even know why i'm writing when my first paper just ended. and it's not even as good as i want it to be seeing how i only spent 30 mins on this. but yeah, i seriously have no mood to improve upon this (have to start on math!) and i cannot imagine myself coming back to this (anytime soon, anyway). 

in other news, i thought GP went well. it wasn't fantastic or anything but it went well. i sure fucking hope they don't penalise me for highlighting the questions. yes, how dumb of me, but well, it's over and i hope everything does go... well.

A levels;

this is it. and i don't mean to be melodramatic but this is it; after 18 years here comes the test that will very likely define my future... well, unless i end up like steve jobs or something -- but no such luck. the thing is, i don't believe that a piece of paper can define my life (cliche hello). i recognise it's importance but i don't see why it's so important. but if it's gonna move me forward then i have no qualms and i'll just keep trudging forward.

good luck Remus, you're definitely gonna need it. seriously.

but fuck, i need to resolve some issue plaguing me from concentrating fully. fuck it had better be resolved tomorrow.
and it sucks in other news because my heart feels conflicted. i want to talk to you, but i can't because i know now's not the time to involve myself with emotional, otherworldly desires. but yet i want to because me, as a believer in love at first sight or very intense attraction at first sight, want to, lest you slip away and be gone forever. ugh.

i am so not in the right state of mind for the A' levels. i wish i had a punching bag at home - i could use some catharsis through a physical outlet.

androgyny:

it seems like the more i get to know you... from afar, the more i am enthralled by you. that effortless confidence you seem to carry yourself with has such an unexplainable euphoric effect on me. i don't know, it seems like you -- just being you, has done it. you have perfectly, and rather succinctly, captured the idea of beauty. of course, your physical appearance: skin as white (and creepily, soft) as sheets from the dryer and physique a killer stellar; lean, not from a diet but well-spent hours dedicated to the enriching of your physical health. hair jet-black but stained (the flaw's icing to your beauty so don't worry) with your party-days as streaks of blonde blemish your head of luscious hair. i don't know to what end my creeper-status encircles, but i'd say it has gone pretty far. i've screened through your social networking sites many times and i have artfully slipped your name into conversations with your friend to display my interest. i think i am in love with you.

you are immaculate and i would like to know you.

---

BTW IT'S ENTIRELY HYPERBOLIC.

fuck. you do always hurt the ones you love. 

ugh. 

and just like that he lost

what defined him as 

a youth.

strange,

how he didn't

feel

anything at

all.

strange.

memory:

every vignette of you and him pelts

                                    you like hail.

your bones ache with every cry --

like a storm that cannot stop.

words you thought would heal

becomes gale

that slits your lips and cuts your heart,

a flood past an abandoned park with

that tree that brims with life;

that tree he promised was yours and his,

marked with the gashes of his knife,

your knife which now indent your wrists.

---

i've been slacking in my writing.
ugh, A' levels drain the inspiration right out of me.
and why am i falling behind on my Disgrace essays?!
i think i will wake up at 8 tomorrow so i can exercise early and start studying earlier.
my thoughts are clearly frazzled.
i need to start writing in a more sophisticated fashion.
goodnight.

burn, burned, burnt.

the rain is calming and cathartic.

when was the last time i had an afternoon-nap again?

yeap, never.

the rain is pouring but i am toiling.

song for the rain:

i have been slacking way too much recently. perhaps i should be heading to the airport whenever i can and study till 10pm.

perhaps i should.
i think i've been doing way too much lit (neglecting my other subjects along the way). now everything i read my brain just automatically turns on the 'form' mode. yeah.

talk about obsession.

farewell assembly:

i forgot to set my alarm the night before, but i miraculously woke up on time! i've been trying to cut back on '!' and the unnecessary 'haha' but that's really beside the point. anyway, school has really ended, i don't know. and after our A' levels i really think i'd feel insanely empty not having anything to do. afterall i've been incessantly studying that it sort of became a habit (well, not really, but you get the point).

ANYWAY, last day of school, lots of pictures, awkward performances, really great food at shanky's parents' restaurant yeah. there are way too many pictures i wanna include so page-break now:

awesome:

awesome places, awesome food, awesome friends, awesome day.

awesome everything, today.

this is an amazing poem:

---

and i'm in my strange-fascinations mood again. the last time it was enjambment, then parentheses, then form, and now it's sonnet. 

omnia causa fiunt:

this is going to be a long post so...

the first 5 seconds are pretty jarring... i don't know, the instruments seem to clash and that, for some reason, adds to the soothing quality of the song when his voice comes in.

anyway,

hi, i like you (4):

it's you again, always you. you're so awesome luh. gorgeous and flawless. i can't stand how sars and i are always blatantly gawking at you. it's hilarious! but we do it anyway cos' with your face (and personality... don't really know what you're like but you seem really nice) deserve to have creepers like us, heh. since school is going to end officially i reckon i'll be doing something drastic and totally embarrassing, hoping that it'll all end well and we'll end up as friends and even more (baby you know what i mean). and if we do, you'll find out eventually that i've been a creeper from day one and feel (you better) immensely flattered to have a lover like me. okay, i need to stop fantasizing cos' this might end up going nowhere, operation down the rabbit hole might not work out and i will need to start digging my own hole to bury my shame in. seriously speaking though, you're hot. and i know this may sound pretty superficial but hey, if you're hot inside out then it'll all work out right! plus the fact that i think you're physically attractive while my friends dismiss my open proclamation means something right? i need to stop now because if i continue it will probably end up as a thesis about you.

only you baby, only you.

---

How can you trust your feelings when they can just disappear like that?

the quote from Blue Valentine left a deep impression on me. i mean, the theme of fleeting love ran throughout the film (almost said 'poem'). i know it's pretty ironic to place this after talking about attraction but yeah. i guess my answer would be that you it doesn't matter. i mean, trust is something so... intangible and abstract that there is no point in defining it. sure, it probably means 'faith in someone'. but what is 'faith'? which again, means 'belief', another abstract word. i suppose all you can do is just to go for it, regardless of what you trust. either it works out or it doesn't (wow, dr. phil). in the end as i'm always telling everyone, it's what happened, not what happens.

/end deep thought.

dede's 18th:

it was pretty normal, sadly. but we didn't have time to plan an elaborate event! school seems to take every second it can from you.
still, we had a pretty nice celebration:

birthday girl! plus the sarah.

sorry, hair too awesome to not have a picture of it.

i swear this looks pretty candid. why am i even captioning everything... lamely, at that. 

stoned woman and dyslexic boy. 

gorgeous birthday girl! her hair is amazingly luscious. 

LOOK. AT. LARMY.

oh, we got her a hello-kitty portable standing fan (aweszballs). i don't know why the pictures turned out so good (even without edits they already were great). yeah. that's it.

stuck in reverse

miss fern has been giving amazing poetry practices lately and this is one of them by Gwendolyn Brooks:

We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan,
Grayed in, and gray. "Dream" mate, a giddy sound, not strong
Like "rent", "feeding a wife", "satisfying a man".

But could a dream sent up through onion fumes
Its white and violet, fight with fried potatoes
And yesterday's garbage ripening in the hall,
Flutter, or sing an aria down these rooms,

Even if we were willing to let it in,
Had time to warm it, keep it very clean,
Anticipate a message, let it begin?

We wonder. But not well! not for a minute!
Since Number Five is out of the bathroom now,
We think of lukewarm water, hope to get in it.

--

i do not want to be like the couple in the poem; too caught up with their commitments and lacking the time to pursue their dreams to the extent that they seem to be contented with the slightest things that we would deem normalcy. it seems like they're simply going through the motions! and that kinda scares me, thinking if my life would end up like that (okay lah, my life probably won't end up with me wistfully thinking of my hopes and dreams whilst 5 or more children scramble around a cramped apartment - but you get the drift). i especially like (and dread) the third stanza cos' it really highlights the conflicting life they have - chase their dreams or attend to their tangible, breathing commitments who they cannot simply give up on (unless they give them away but that's a different story).

i don't wanna ever get carried away by life. i want to get carried away with life.

and i didn't achieve much today, ugh. i guess i did finish next week's poetry comparison (which was very relatable but i felt that my essay lacks rigour though :/) but that's all. sigh, bye.

lights will find you

i don't think i blogged about my week, not that it was exciting or anything. actually it was unbelievably dull; school has siphoned all that is left of my social life. i would actually post photos about the sarah and my trip to town yesterday but i have no photos. the thing is, i brought my camera but i left the damned battery at home. and i was so excited to take photos cos'... i wore a new outfit that day and i really love it. vain, i know, but who cares luh - embrace your vanity. and i don't even think i'm that vain lor, just proud of my putting-an-outfit-together skills. actually on hindsight (and whilst wearing it) my outfit wasn't that good luh. jeans may match boots but straight-cut jeans look baggy and i don't have any skinnies to go with it. guess i'll (never though i'd say this) get a pair sometime. plus the food we had at medzs looked so sumptuous and amazing. owell.

what i will be sure to record though, is michelle plus me on thursday. we are going to:

bleach my jorts

cut up a way-too-tight tpjc tee into a tank

watch a movie (?)

and now i end this post abruptly, which, wasn't really about me week. huh.

potential songs for my lover and i:

1. lykke li - sadness is a blessing

2. platters - smoke gets in your eyes

3. penny and the quarters - you and me

4. temper trap - sweet disposition (!!!)

5. landon pigg - can't let go (acoustic)

6. beach boys - don't worry baby

7. mcfly - i'll be your man (acoustic)
8. ingrid michaelson - the way i am

if you're the sort who enjoys oldies (2, 3, 6) and alternative then you'll definitely recognize that i'm the sappy lover who takes my music seriously. i don't know, there's just something about the oldies that screams 'love' and 'romantic' compared to most of the modern songs these days. okay, some of the songs aren't exactly lovey-dovey and are actually kinda depressing but they make perfect love songs from the vibe they give! now i realise this is super ironic compared to two posts back. owell. this list will continue to grow.

---

i just have to throw this in even though it doesn't fit the post:

"sometimes i have the immense urge to call him despite the pain he's caused me. sometimes i just have to call him, to hear his voice. that doesn't make me feel better, but that makes me think of what we had, and what we had were some of the best times of my life."

"... what if she picks up? what will you do then?"

badum

drowning in school work. one lit essay down, five more to go -- great. i had better be some literary genius by the time i'm done with these essays, or at least permanently improve from the high C's i'm averaging to a low B (at least!) i receive now and then. my poetry's really bad so i'm going to focus a lot more on that. why am i even saying this when it probably isn't relatable.

and then there comes the other subjects, which i really hope i haven't peaked yet, because there's still so much room for improvement. gah, everything's going to end really soon, which makes me wonder when i'll ever have to involve the multiplier or the formation of a karst landscape in my life. surely, some of the stuff i get from education wouldn't be so meaningless right? the massive consults i'll be having next week must definitely mean something right? i am as uncertain as how what i learn from intensely-intensive revision next week like a philosopher pondering whether the sun will rise tomorrow.

for one, i know lit will forever and always stay with me. i mean, i'm very likely going to major in creative writing/english/lit so that will definitely help, not to mention how we can apply our studies of the human condition in our plays. ugh, this is all so jarring (baby i know).

and why am i falling ill again?! whatever happened to that immaculate immune system you enjoy temporarily after a bout of illness. i don't get it, seriously i don't. so i'm gonna shut up and chug my herbal tea and cooling water and such (i am traditional like that, but i'm also gonna get western meds luh).

i'm so adverse to relationships that it depresses me.

what is it with me and forming real human bonds?

maybe i'm an alien.

well take me home, mothership,

take me home.

and this song is so ironic that it's depressing me even further.

chaos, it enriches my mind

gonna quickly jot down my week before i head out cos' i know when i get back i'll be too busy with homework to log it in.

hi, i like you (3):

hi i like you, because you're really really hot and just so i don't come off as superficial, your character seems amazing from a stranger's (creeper) point of view. i don't think i have ever thought anyone in real life to be that hot and larmy says i've attached 4-different adjectives to her insult to you (she calls you a rabbit... jeez) but that's because her insult is invalid and you look awesome. like neon trees "i wanna be more than friends". but then again, we need to be friends first and i don't know how to break the stranger-creeper barrier between us. 

hi i like you, even though you made me so embarrassed with myself for doing something thoroughly foolish. oh well, you're still gorgeous.

hi i like you, ACTUALLY I'M FUCKING PISSED AT YOU RIGHT NOW AND I JUST WANTED TO SAY THIS SOMEWHERE, ANYWHERE. you are so annoying and i don't know what you're trying to do because you're incredulously capricious like that one katy perry song where she rants about her beau being hot n' cold. sheesh, either leave me the hell alone or be a little more consistent. i'm not an emotional towel that's always hanging on the rack you know. the more i think about it the more livid i get. 

hi i like you, actually i don't. i feel the same for you as the aforementioned individual but i'm not as pissed, more of annoyed. but if you're gonna be like this in the long-term then seriously, just piss off. ugh. and i'm seriously peeved when people ask or say something obscure and i reply "huh?" or "what?" to clarify but you go "nothing, nvm". 

i am so fucking sad and depressed,

because i cannot do anything

while my friend is in a state of emotional suffering.

:(

things i did in the week:

my week was pretty good, especially after studying like crazy for the prelims. my week was so fruitful so this post is exorbitantly long. digressing, i really wanna work for hugo boss or zara or a slick brand just to look smart and well-put together everyday. then again, i really wanna intern for a writing company like August (HAHAH if possible) or i don't know. continuing...

惨了，我星期一有华语B A'水准考试...

他妈的.

HAHAHAHA

---

anyway,

how many mazes do you think you've built

to the path into your heart?

your labyrinth

seems inescapable,

and unsolvable.

you trap us in there with hopes

and dreams of what will be

at the end,

but in the end

they were nothing

but illusions 

of false sense and insecurities--

insecurities of your foolish desires

to be loved

by lovers

who would have done anything

for you,

anything.

now we're trapped starving and dying

in the moments

you've created

to lure us

into the labyrinth

you name

your heart.


---

the friday today:

only one lesson in school, lazed around till the gates were open. lunch with the balls, laze around my house thereafter. amore before Tuls, Lili, and Sars came over. had a go at hair straightening, watched funny videos, cut up my old, no longer worn jeans into jorts (which was highly successful, i must say), watched even more funny videos.

this is life, i must say.

that is, of course, before next week begins and life gets hectic all over again.

gotta blog about:

town-day with lars

baking day and

fat day.

"you know i can't do this"

"do what?"

"give you everything i have and expect nothing back"

mmhmm

prelims are finally over! yay!

oh, i was tremendously proud of myself today because i asked for extra paper before kau. and yes, it's the dumbest thing to be happy over but seriously, with the amount both of us usually write (not being conceited), i'm always too slow to actually pen down all of the stuff i want to include in my answers, so yeah. didn't matter in the end anyway since we used it all.

anyway,

i have many things to log down so i don't forget them in the future. and because school has been a twat that made it impossible to do so, i've actually forgotten what it is i want to record, that is, till i check the past posts (i typed what i would log):

growing up:

inappropriate moment (Geog paper tomorrow) but i just gotta write this down.

in 5 years i've changed a lot! like huge transformation (which i refuse to credit as good or bad). in the past i was just an average science kid, like the most cliched of science kids, you know, triple science and a.math. i hated it, well... not really hate, more like dislike Physics and Chemistry (and till this day i still do). i had insanely bad skin (still do, but not as dreadful), a really bad haircut, zero dress sense, and a pre-teen still pretty much unexposed to the real world, living my life in a warm bubble only to realize the world isn't as simple as it is till i've stepped out (or was violently pulled out of) it, as Kyra would put it.

hi, i like you (2):

1. yes i do. OMG you actually spoke to me yesterday OMG. *adds on facebook. great, now we're 'friends' of which i'm the creepy stalker, yay, roleplay foreplay (kidding... not really... nah). and i was way too stoned to realize till Sarah told me at night. damn.

2. i still do and it kinda irks me cos... yeah, let's just leave it at that else i'd go on writing a paragraph and then a thesis but anyway, i still do! but sheesh, not as much as i used to. i mean, you're great and all but why do you gotta go be someone you're not?! i mean, i'm totally fine (in fact i'd do that to) with not acknowledging something you don't want to through misleading answers (though you probably will not have the capacity to luh, since you're not really good with words and everything...). actually i'd give totally misleading and unasked-for answers just cos' it's hilarious but anyway, i wouldn't blatantly lie about who i really am! it's like telling someone you hate nachos but deep inside you love them like how a bulimic loves the toilet. there's a difference between:

said situation 1; 

'do you like nachos?'

'NO I HATE THEM, GOD THEY SUCK SO BAD. WHY DO YOU EVEN ASK THIS. NEVER NACHOS NEVER.' 

(when you love them to bits)

v.s. said situation 2;

'do you like nachos?'

'like how you love your dog.'

(when friend does not have mentioned pet)

OR

'whatever floats your boat, beb'

OR

'i don't know, do you, hobo?'

OR

'pie.'

see the difference: denial and hilarious digression. jeez.

3. i do but the reason is just plain lame. we share similar interests. but like how chick lit authors (which i assume they would... stereotypes are based on a general truth) are always preaching that 'similarities provide the foundation to every relationship and then the difference comes in and ...' i do! still, you're a really pretentious person (and i already am fairly pretentious) and Joanna says you look like an elf... that needs no explanation.

4. just cos' you're zoe saldana and i'm remus ang. what more need i say? by the way, Colombiania, totally going to watch that.

5. i will forever love you adele. i love how progressively unrelated this post is.

---

macklemore is insanely good.

he is amazing.

like eminem.

okay, maybe not like eminem. if eminem were king he'd be the prince though.

OKAY BYE GEOG. dang this is a long post.
baby i know.

heart:

"my heart is bleeding, so, so badly".

wait, what? what are you talking about? that's what the heart is suppose to do, you fool.

you seem to be caught up in this delusion that your heart is suppose to do anything other than bleed.

of course it bleeds! else you wouldn't be standing up right now,

else you wouldn't be alive right now.

silly fool,

--

you had better vanquish any foolish ideology on the 'soul' or 'matters of the heart'

before people catch what you're saying,

and mock

you for it. silly

fool.

if ever your heart stops bleeding,

well --

well, 

then you had better start worrying

cos'

you're

probably

dying,

if what you say is 'killing you'

isn't

already.

right?

silly

fool.

silly...

--

---

a play on form. ikr, not a very opportune moment midway into the prelims. the idea got me thinking at 2 in the morning, in bed, tryna' recall Malthus and his foil, Boserup's theory. how poetic. my tonsils are swollen as hell but i'm a trooper and i don't want to have slogged my guts out studying for nothing...
baby i know.

ugh:

We are always
excited with the intrusion
of an unexpected stranger
into our lives;
unexpected, but
welcomed.

And then the excitement fades
and all we see are flaws;
flaws we cannot ignore.

We try to look past the flaws,
and it succeeds;
a secret
stowed deep inside a closet.

But flaws,
they stay:
a nagging memory
begging
to be recalled
to engulf your mind,
your soul,
with thoughts
 you cannot ignore.

at-traction, re-traction.

why is it that the more we talk to each other, the more i fall for you?

but why is it that the more we talk to each other, the more i'm less interested in you?

silly boy, it's called attraction! here's how you get over it:
realize that even though they mean a whole lot to you,
you, like your individual self-worth,
the one that defines you?
they don't really care about that,
that really doesn't matter to them at all.

---

i want:

brown cardi,

sneakers, formal-ish shoes, 

shorts, jeans, chinos.

going to (update about):

face-painting

tunglok

sukiya

right now:

A.A Bondy - I can see the pines are dancing

love this song forever.

 i am a fire and i must burn today.

commit-ment:

so obsessed with this trailer, never been so obsessed with a trailer.

---

commitment.
commit-ment.
ambivalence clouds the ability for conformity,
the virtue of devotion is questioned,
mocked is loyalty, of which was famed.
such, in society today, is distorted, twisted:
entrapment, mundanity, conservative.
a choice to commit
or commitment to choice?

the disregard of commitment
in the pursuit of commit-ment,
we find ourselves lost:
commit-ment
committed.

memory:

memory:

transfixed,

transgressed,

entrapped,

trapped.

me-mory,

catacombs,

cataclysmic,

entrapped,

trapped.

nothing:

i cannot write when i am feeling

nothing,

just nothing.

so i'll write about feeling nothing.

---

bouts of anxiety
interspersed with confusion --
disillusionment.

erratic, formless thoughts,
cloud these emotions.

emotions,
emotions-less,
emotionless.

in a second i am nothing.

knowing:

if only you knew
the pain she was going through;
mind infected with the lull of illusive voices,
scars stowed beneath layers of loose clothing,
organs heaving to support a system caked white with chalk

then perhaps you’d know
that beneath this nonchalant, stolid facade
hides a scared girl unaccustomed
to death.

death:
is what she’ll be if
no one is going to save her.

but no one can save her,
because no one knows.

no one cares.

im(mortal)

Arches pulled at the skin on her back, as though threatening to rip it apart if they were trapped any longer. Desperate fingernails scrawled till porcelain skin turned into red marks and into tiny droplets of blood; she was trying to free them!
But alas, nothing was happening, nothing was working, for the wings she thought were growing were merely tired bones and broken joints. In the second she realized her foolishness, her body slumped into the floor like a pool of water. Her disillusion was drowning her.
She realized her foolishness when epiphany struck her like free-falling without a parachute: she was nothing more but a mortal confined within the cages of the earth.
She was trapped, and there was nothing that could set her free.

hi, i like you:

hi, i like you, but you don't. or at least i think you don't. i don't know. but i like you somatically more than i like you emotionally. you behave like a stick, i'm sorry, there's nothing deep about that, and it's probably an arts thing for me to think of you this way. i still like you though, despite your shameless lasciviousness and all your endeavors to satisfy it, probably the most seeing how i know more about you and you know more about me.

hi, i like you, but you're attached... and that kind of sucks. but still, you're gorgeous. and smart too. that's pretty cool; being smart and gorgeous and all. breaking relationships is socially-wrong, so there's that.

hi, i like you, but i don't know you that well, actually i barely know you. but the stories i've heard about you kind of suck, though i try not to listen to them. you seem pretty amicable, plus you look good. that's nice.

hi, i like you, but you probably don't know i exist at all. you are hot, seriously, hottest i've ever known. attractive on so many levels. shit, i wanna know you. if only.

hello, liking someone is more exhausting than i thought it would be.

whisky:

love-hate this photo.

---

all i wanna do is write all day long.

but i can't, ugh.

exams, please end soon!

that will be, November.

fuck:

insecurities

tear your soul apart

like razor blades

to an ice-cold wrist

they prise and dig,

hungry for blood.

they don't stop 

until there is nothing

left to drain

dry

it's too late

cos' they're all broken,

the glass of dreams

and bottle of hope;

they're all gone

and shattered

the time has passed

the love is over.

you can't fight fate.

AllSaints: all awesome.

here we are:

hungry?

(we ordered lots more btw)

oh, and i had it with these awesome people:

and then we watched Rise of Planet of the Apes and it was actually good (though the poster just needs some changing, really)! 

---

She scratched red marks on her shoulder blades as if her nails sowed the seeds for wings. Scars skin deep, cuts. Her skin stretched ever so slightly, you could almost spot a feather harvesting in those shoulder blades. One morning, she’d wake up with a warm sweat. Blood painted her bed sheets in an outward motion. An angel in her sleep, being tortured to awaken in her body’s red wine into the first world.

-Gabrielle Quiwa

genius.