DECEPTION

THE TRUTH IS

2011-12-27T01:42:00.003+08:00

i have this intense need to write about something, anything. but what?

i'm supposed to be packing. i'm supposed to be envied by. four nights in paradise then off to another three of laughs and drunken haziness. but all i really want to do is sit here and muse. i want that old sensation of being in my own world, where i could determine the axis and how the ball spun. where i was eternally sixteen and the person i always dreamt of being.

when i was young i thought i'd be either the mainstream definition of awesome or the ironically widespread individualistic version of it. instead i'm the listless dreamer who doesn't have a clue what to even desire. still picking petty fights and changing my mind. still living my imagination. still going with societal norms.

i thought i would have grown a backbone by now. or at least a solid perspective. i thought i'd choose my friends instead of hope they chose me. i thought i'd value the same things. why do others' stamp of approval still matter? why does pleasing them still matter?

i once wanted to be like her, like him perhaps. but i never will.

why is life disappointing?

will i lose whatever beliefs i have miraculously held on to? perhaps next year, perhaps in ten. but i don't want to. right now i want to be the girl who naively believes she can change someone, something and perhaps have a life worth living. part of me isn't anymore but i never want to be a disillusioned forty-year-old who desires bills more than smiles. deny it, of course you will. we won't be our parents, our predecessors, you say. yet. what are the chances of us straying from the evil we know all too well?

humanity is everything. without it, there is no life. there is only existence.

existing means nothing.

SHOOBEE-DOO

2011-12-04T13:48:00.003+08:00

I still have no other social media outlets. So here.

Just listen. Its too amazing.

NOLITE TE BASTARDES CARBORUNDORUM

2011-11-17T22:46:00.006+08:00

i want to write. i want to vent. i want to tell the world how i feel right now. i want you to know how my hands tremble from cold as i type this. i want to shout about how a mere memory is dominating my life right now. how old songs slowly calm me down, their odd familiarity as comforting as snuggling up to an old friend. i want to lament my lack of inhibitions of late. i want to scream out begging you to pay attention to this inner tumult. but no words come.

no eloquent ones i mean.

I wrote that a long time ago, at the height of an immense frustration at a sudden loss for words when I needed them so. Somehow acknowledging it has jolted me into realising the alarming frequency at which this is occurring.

I don't know what to feel.

lie to me please. lie to me.
perhaps one day i'll delude myself into believing you.
we'll be happy. honest.

ORT

2011-09-26T21:31:00.012+08:00

I'm seventeen. Sometimes I still fumble and say sixteen. Because that was the golden age the young me always wanted. But its gone. Like the wisp of the wind, sixteen is but a memory.

And I'm still here. Wading in uncertainty, testing the waters, never daring to take the plunge. I can. I want to. I just don't know how to.

How do I decide? When I stammer soundlessly when asked what I want. Cowardly fearing uttering words I may regret.

To be the idealistic dreamer or the grounded realist?

Desire. Desire to unleash my naive belief in perfection. Out of the confines of the moonlight, into deep-rooted permanency. Comprehension. Comprehension that nothing but something, anything tangible would bear more fruit.

How does one trade life for passion? How does one barter away passion for life?

People say there is no life in a loveless existence. Yet. They never talk of an obsolete passion, hollowed by impotent endeavors.

Decisions. Decisions.

Wretched decisions.

Can I ask you something? he said.
Yes. Of course.
Are we going to die?
Sometime. Not now.

-Cormac McCarthy

Not now.

SALVATION

2011-09-18T21:40:00.005+08:00

I live for poetic justice. I look for it in every crooked twist of life. In the sparkle of a chandelier, in the death of a stray dog, in the illusion of a falling star. Then I sit and toy with the slightly distorted thoughts in my mind with the wonderment of a child. Devour the quaint satisfaction.

Today, I sat in an old shop-lot. I've spent many a dinner sitting in the same shop-lot. It reeked of Chinese Tea and paint-coated metal chairs. But today. The constant Cantonese chatter reduced to nothing but a distant din. And suddenly the walls started to cave in. My mind cringed internally. The chicken felt slimy, distasteful. I set it down. Fingers on temples now.

Then I felt it. Injustice. Despondency. Pandemonium of inadequacy. Looked up. Looked around. Then I absorbed it. All around me. So many lives that would never amount to anything. Lives of routine and returning to bleak flats. Punctuated by pregnant dissatisfaction and old, crushed dreams. Black and white lives struggling in a technicolour time.

I searched but I couldn't find any poetic justice in this. No sparks of beauty to make it all worthwhile. No immense inner struggle to keep one strong. No silent mantras of I am, I am, I am. Just a facade of contentment with sub-par lives.

The room became too oppressive.

I don't want to end up like that. Fear transfigures from that.

I fear it.

I AM NOT A CRAZY PERSON. PROBABLY. POSSIBLY. PARTIALLY.

2011-09-12T00:06:00.004+08:00

Bitch please.

Stop bugging me. Its the middle of the night and I haven't responded in the past 30 minutes. Its my prerogative if I want to load on hoodies and sweatpants for no apparent reason. I can blast my Beats and listen to Cobra Starship asking girls to get off their dicks. I'll watch Kingsley rant about how the Ipad is the new tampon. I'll cry my eyes out to the Igor Breyman Every 15 Minutes video if I want to.

This doesn't mean I hate you cause I love all you crazy people to bits. I do. Mostly. Perhaps.

But honestly, shut the fuck up. Let me do my shit. Alone.

IDEALS

2011-08-10T23:17:00.012+08:00

i get attached very easily. to a book, to an oversized sweater, to my new earphones. to a person perhaps. i relish in every beautiful detail that enters my life. i hold it, memorising its contours, twisting every tangible object between my fingers. its so bloody perfect. something happens. a word, a look, a scratch, a lie. then the dream shatters. it may take an hour, a day, a year even. but sooner or later it ruptures.

and then my heart breaks a little on the inside.

i clutch on to the jagged pieces desperately, believing that the memory of its beauty will reign supreme. but it never does. disillusioned and ruined, i let it go. but months and years will pass. and one day a sudden touch, an old picture reminds me of what i once had. its frightening allure but never the aches of the aftermath.

and my heart breaks a little more, wondering how i ever let such a thing go.

yearning takes over and i would wander around in the narrow alleys of my heart until i find what i want. and then the cycle starts again. and i allow myself to. because a fleeting pleasure, a temporary liberation is worth everything. even if i curse reality a thousand times through it all.

PROCRASTINATION

2011-08-05T17:06:00.002+08:00

things change so quickly. i just want to remember here and now. i am thankful for these people in my life.

and then some.

WANT. NEED.

2011-07-24T01:44:00.003+08:00

Writing is incredibly scary sometimes. All forms of it. Texting, chatting, essaying. Sometimes I have a vague notion floating in my mind, sometimes an incessant worry or even a faint doubting of something, anything. I never want to pen it down. Seeing it in writing, my deepest thoughts and hidden ideals, just makes it so real. Suddenly its no longer a kaleidoscope of tangled words I can ignore. Its there. Its real.I thought this once. I felt this once. A second ago. A year ago. It doesn't matter. I can relive it, desiring to or not. A longing turns out to be an infatuation [hi Mabel. ;)], a fear becomes a lifelong aversion. It does make everything better sometimes, spilling it all, even if just to a white space before my eyes. But when things change, it just makes me cringe. I don't want to remember some things. I don't want to know how I felt before. It just changes how I feel about it now. I don't want to long for something in the past. I don't want to continue loving or despising something desperately just because of the concrete past glaring at me every once in a while. I want it to be perfect. I want something to be perfect. Its may be just my nonsensical schoolgirl ideal or fantasy but I just want something to be perfect. Something so perfect I could cling to it forever and believe in infinity. Infinite opportunities, infinite dreams, infinite human relationships, infinite changes, infinite stability. Infinity. What a hatefully amazing word it is.

Wow I sure drifted.

No paragraphs. Just how thoughts are formed at nearly 2am. :)

SOMETIMES BOMBS FALL QUIETLY

2011-07-11T22:03:00.004+08:00

Today is my Jonah Day.

Come convince me to believe in tomorrow.

Sleep.

Nuff said.

BURN MY MIND

2011-07-05T20:12:00.002+08:00

I thrive on despair. I'm not even going to deny it. And lately my posts have been getting more and more personal as I've deluded myself into believing I'm in despair. I once told someone that the person who blogs, the person who feels too much, the person I am at 4am in the morning is who I want to be all the time. I wonder. Do I really?

Oh well. I'm tired. I should be studying. Typing that makes me semi-depressed. :(

I'm craving. Something disgustingly deep fried.

ANY DAY OF THE WEEK

2011-07-03T21:00:00.006+08:00

Its so odd how easily people can fall in love with a mere idea. With the mere thought of having someone by your side, the mere thought of what the other may or may not say. The sad comfort of knowing someone loves you.

There is a disc lying next to me as I type. A disc that I'll never slide into my computer. I was once so desperate to watch it. In fact, I just wanted to be in contact with anything related to a certain something. And this movie is certainly a big part of that.

Now all it does is remind me of a different time I tried to clutch on to so. When I had a reason to stay up all night. When I was cheered up by the mere sight of that smile. When I felt so deliciously different. When I could laugh at the ridiculous things sent to me. When I became flustered and doubted myself. oh.

I didn't think I would care that much. But what the heck? It is rather comforting to be overcome with strange, overwhelming sentiments, just so everything feels alive. Just so I know I am not the indifferent rock I seem to be. Is that too strange?

Somehow, this also reminds me of the time I felt like I had not just someone closest to, but someone to be completely comfortable with, to be wholly myself with, whoever the hell that is, to talk about everything from the past to insecurities with. Oddly enough, we were already slipping when this materialised. Doesn't stop the missing. Doesn't stop the barrier whenever I reached for the phone to call. Doesn't stop the plummeting of my everything when the call isn't answered.

I honestly can't decide which is worse, being disillusioned from the perfect dream, or losing the imperfect friend. One haunts my nights, the other a slap in the face everyday. One I still can't help but still yearn for, another I have accepted with a finality. Quaint which is which.

Ah, life is moving too rapidly for me. In a few months I'll be out of high school. I'll be free to...? To? Why do I choose now to doubt everything I lived for?

I just remembered. Tomorrow they celebrate you. My oh my.

TRY TRY

2011-06-28T22:40:00.010+08:00

i feel unproductive. i feel sleepy. i feel like jumping up and down. i feel capricious. i feel like i'm somehow being drowned in my own doings. why do i always leave myself so fucking confused?

its strange how my level of attachment differs so vastly from object to object, from person to person. how i can leech so many wishful thoughts on a person as soon as we meet but have no hopes of some oldest friends. how i think constantly of the new and exciting but hardly of the old and reliable. except perhaps in my darkest moments. its curious how the cycle never ends, despite all the crushed hopes and stomped on dreams.

i reflect, knowing its all over, knowing that i hadn't managed to impress. yet somehow, these thoughts still consume me, desperately retaliating against reality. i want it back. it was too short, too brief. Brief. brief was supposed to be good and perfect. nevertheless i want it back, foolishly wanting to believe it can still be perfect. i know i have gotten all i need but oh boy i still want it back.

oh the remnants of it so evident. the movies that i'll never watch and the words that i'll never say without reflecting back. damn. why do i remember most every moment so well?

its feels so good to finally let it out. to let go of all the god damned images flitting in and out of my mind of what was, what could have been. ah, let me relish in this moment for a while. its wonderful how words still comfort me, still cater to almost every whim and fancy of mine. its amazing how words never fail me despite my constant refusal to use them to perfection, or even use them as much as i should. but they stand by me, going to lengths i hadn't thought plausible when first penning them.

by the way, i haven't completely fallen off the rocker, although my nose is inches from the ground. yes, today i don't feel like using capitals. today i don't feel as though my thoughts are particularly significant, or perhaps i want to delude myself into thinking so. today i feel particularly whimsical, hence the jumble of thoughts.

oh, to be the pretty princess with the silver tiara.

DIE BITCH, DIE

2011-06-14T23:09:00.007+08:00

Despite how I hate the way you somehow distract me from all said significant things in life, sometimes I wish you'd come and steal away my reality. I wish you and your smile would come and steal my breath away. I wish that you'd tell me that I'm an idiot to worry. I wish you'd drown me in your world, the polar opposite of mine. But you're not here. I never know when you'll be here. Like a tornado, unexpected and almost explosive, you'll appear. Your hypocrisy confounds, annoys and entices me. Its driving me to the brink of insanity. Oh dear god.

& yes, I think James Dean is a sexy beast.

I found this post whilst looking at old drafts. Ah, how some things never change. :)

PERHAPS I WAS WRONG

2011-06-11T00:25:00.010+08:00

Infatuation. The greatest thing of all, triumphing even love, yet somehow its the most terrifying devil known. It keeps one up all night, keeps the heart pounding way too loud, keeps the fingers refreshing each page. The eagerness, the anticipation are the only things keeping you going yet somehow they slowly kill the fire warming your emotions.

What is infatuation? Its the crazy sensation of roller coasters speeding in the pit of your tummy when you first meet someone. Its when the person lets on and you want to know more and more. Its what makes girls wait by phones and constantly check their phones for texts. Its what makes teenagers stalk their favourite celebs on Twitter. There is nothing more one would like than to speak to their object of infatuation. There is nothing more delectable than a long conversation with that oh-so fascinating person. There is nothing more agonizing than playing back all the conversations and realising that you should have said this or not mentioned that. There is no better past time than gushing about everything he/she said to one's friends. There is nothing more anguishing than waiting for a text, an online message. There is none more distressing than wondering when that call would come, prepping yourself and then losing your mind the moment the call is answered. But the worse of all would be the subtle hints that you are not that significant to that other person, despite all the inane torment on your part.

That person is on your mind all the time. What do you know? What do you not know? So many things you just want to cling on to and clutch to your chest like your childhood pillow. Hating every moment that captivating being spends away and completely despising each nanosecond he/she spends with someone else. You take a rock given to you, a scrap of information, and build a dream mansion from in, painting a picture of someone of your wildest fantasy. In the end, the only one we are infatuated with is the perfect character created by our subconscious mind. We desire a lie.

It only goes two ways. Either to love or to becoming virtual strangers again. If its the first, good for you. But the infatuated stage is the one period most couples look back upon fondly, wishing it back, not knowing why love, the love so patient and kind, was never more soul-satisfying than pure want. The latter however, is like dying a cruelly slow death. The calls, the texts gradually slow down. Conversations are punctuated with long, inexplicable silences. Where did the excitement go? Where did the quick comebacks and sweet astonishment at every new revelation go? Was this it? And finally the silent acceptance and the faint curiosity at what could have been at each mention of the person's name.

Everyone has been infatuated. Infatuation is selfish. Infatuation is greedy. Infatuation is jealous. Infatuation is impatient. Infatuation is food for the soul. It thrives on every hopeful word, on each crushing rejection.

Why do we seek to suffer like this?

TRAIPSING ACROSS CONSTELLATIONS

2011-06-06T15:39:00.007+08:00

Did you know that every passing face in one's dreams are faces of people we have seen before? Perhaps in a crowded mall or an old forgotten acquaintance. Its strange how this people affect our subconscious mind, isn't it? And if we think of it in reverse, it is even stranger the way we affect others.

There is this someone, whom I barely know, yet perhaps I know all too well for man believes it best to open up to strangers. Lets call this person Jack. Jack is no exceptional person. He'll never go to Harvard or discover the cure for cancer. But I'll risk sounding pretentious and boldly say that he's unlike anyone most people have ever met. Its amazing how a mere few conversations made me see things differently. In a few weeks or months, we'll stop talking to each other completely, reduced to being just another contact on each other's Skype account. I probably haven't had an impact on him but its odd. He has greyed my perception of the world.

There are others like Jack in my life, but never has one affected me as strongly and swiftly as he. Its not because I am madly in love (because I'm not). Its not because he has the most amazing smile I have ever seen(although he does). Its because of his multiple seemingly opposing qualities that culminate to form a truly exceptional person. And because of an impulsive decision made in a fleeting moment, I've been able to read the underlying meaning beneath the surface of certain things.

But then again, I don't know Jack well enough or long enough to see the ugly side of him. For in every friend, every relative, there is surely a trait that irritates one. A part of me hopes that we'll never get to know each other inside out and find that annoying habit. A part of me hopes that we will eternally be in this phase. The phase in which everything is so refreshingly new, each line so deliciously delivered, each smile relished at, each compliment blushed at, each answer awaited with biting lips. A part of me just wants him to remain so wonderfully perfect in my mind, just as the person who widened my lids slightly. For then the magic remains.

I honestly don't know the point of this post. It was all just innocent ramblings whilst I surfed Tumblr through another's account. Perhaps I just wanted to remind myself the enormity of others in our lives. Perhaps I just wanted to preserve this moment, these thoughts of Jack (who could be a Jacqueline for all you know ;P ) before life whips up another hurricane, stealing them from my mind.

LICK

2011-05-25T00:16:00.004+08:00

Its exams again. And I'm here once more, lamenting on how I simply cannot focus, on how I am going to fail tomorrow's paper. Every exam I take one step closer to the failing mark, ten marks towards it and now it seems as if it is finally time. Finally time for me to fail. And I know this for a fact cause its 12.18am and I haven't completed one out of the twelve chapters of Bio. But I'm thinking, of the people in my life. The people who whizzed in and out faster than I could say 'hello', the people who unconsciously made a difference in my life. It is strange, isn't it? Strange that someone that one was never close to, could have changed one's perspective. Strange that your best friend may have never even altered your life at all. Strange how a relationship can change in a matter of weeks because of that.

I feel calm now. Slowly embracing the way the keys lower beneath my fingers, the familiar dull thud their movements create. Go away, bittersweet infatuation, I want to indulge in familiarity, in the people I loved and currently love. Why won't you leave me alone? Why do my spirits thrive on this blind madness?

I wonder if the day when I can arrange all my mind's intricate musings into focus will ever come. I seemingly leap from one subject to another at alarming velocity and inaccuracy.

PS- For once the picture above is not a hidden symbol of underlying emotions. Ah. :)

SHE WHISPERS

2011-05-06T23:26:00.003+08:00

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that we can't talk anymore. I'm sorry we don't talk anymore. I'm sorry uncomfortable silence fills the void that was once overwhelmed with chatter and fondness. I'm sorry that you're no longer the first one I call when I need a friend. I'm sorry I don't even call you anymore. I'm sorry I'm the only one who fell out of the circle. I'm sorry I'm no longer your rock. I'm sorry I never will be again. I'm sorry I'm sitting here, wanting desperately to talk to someone, but knowing that someone can't be you. I'm sorry we don't lead parallel lives anymore. I'm sorry I can't comfort you anymore. I'm sorry you never reach out. I'm sorry you're the last to know everything. I'm sorry you lost me. I'm sorry after so long I still blog about you. I'm sorry I still feel a tinge of regret about what is lost. I'm sorry both you and I couldn't, didn't, smoothen the creases between us. I'm sorry I changed. I'm sorry I'm too judgemental. I'm sorry you don't know who to turn to anymore. I'm sorry that on nights like these I still wish I had you. You were one of the best things that ever happened to me.

I'm sorry but I can't help myself. I guess there is no going back.

WHAT A SIX YEAR OLD WANTS IN A BOYFRIEND

2011-04-04T20:55:00.005+08:00

CLOSE

2011-03-21T22:01:00.004+08:00

So many thoughts. My mind is a mental asylum - crazy bastards flitting in and out, inane thoughts unable to leave. I can't decide. I want... so much. I fall short. I can't. Why? Fucking futuristic shoots of light blinds my senses, a drunken hazy mist enshrouds my gray cells. I am.. or am I?

Damn.

MAYBE YES, MAYBE NO

2011-03-16T23:08:00.002+08:00

Alex Pettyfer is still hot. HAHAHA :)

I need sleep. Desperately.

I WOULD GIVE YOU MY FAVOURITE CANDY EVERY DAY

2011-03-14T00:35:00.007+08:00

This is for those who stand by their friends no matter what. This is for those who will say the right words when an old friend needs comforting. This is for those who understand that friendship isn't just about talking every day. This is for those who trust unconditionally. This is for those who love so much it hurts. . This is for those who understand another's halting murmurs just because. This is for those who pick up when you call at 3am in the morning, insecure and bitchy.This is for those who can sense when something is amiss.

This is for those who think about their best friend ignoring them more than their lover lying to them. This is for those who never sway from their axis of morale. This is for those who know when to be blunt and when to tell a little white lie. This is for those who always keep their promises. This is for those who may feel obscure cause they believe they are not cool enough, or interesting enough. This is for those who wait in the shadows, still loving the other's flaws. This is for those who never inflict pain, except when they leave.

Thank you for existing, thank you for letting some of your limited kind into my life. Please don't ever leave. I love you, you know who you are, I hope. :) You may feel insecure sometimes, you may think you are just another raindrop blending into a storm; but you are the most gorgeous one out there, one that glistens in the sunlight, one that reflects the colours of the rainbow sometimes, one that makes others believe in miracles all the time.

Ain't it funny that those who are truly loved never realise it at all?

JUST CAUSE

2011-03-13T23:58:00.004+08:00

The world just needs a little more innocent love like that of children. :)

Its so beautiful to see the entire world pushing boundaries away to aid one in need, yet no one preserves that unconditional love without a major crisis. Why do people need wake up calls instead of just knowing and doing what is right?

I know I sound like a shallow bitch. Anyway, thinking of coming back to blogging in this dead blog no one reads other than those crazy people who subscribe to me. ;)

KISSES

2010-10-07T17:38:00.004+08:00

Alright. I know I haven't updated in nearly in a month. So I'll just put something short up to make this blog not seem so dead. Watch the video above! Lily Allen always makes me mischeviously happy. :)

Oh give me a break. I'll be mean now and clear up my mess later on. Since my new life's aim is to be INDIFFERENT & BRUTALLY HONEST. I am going to be indifferent to the world's issues with living things and its everlasting need to cause suffering. I'm going to be indifferent to people being assholes because I sure as hell don't care if you alienate good people and burn in hell anymore. :) Ah, life is good when one does not care.

On another note, I currently love my gay classmates. :) ♥

And I need sleep... badly. BYE.

xoxo

You know I love you. ;)

DAZED

2010-09-19T23:22:00.004+08:00

I'm have Dirty Picture and Peacock on replay whilst reading textsfromlastnight.com. I wonder what kind of person that makes me.

Oh and the only reason I'm not shitting myself over because holidays have ended is because there are a lot of people in school. Which means a lot of people to hug.

Did that sound wrong? :-o

NOM NOM

2010-09-13T21:47:00.003+08:00

Oh who am I kidding. Chocolate is the best comfort food on earth. The unhealthiest, fat filled, pimple causing, oh-so-delicious chocolate. I feel so hungry now. I need to go get some chocolate. Its never a good idea to have hordes of chocolate stored in one's bedroom.

PS- Just look at the chocolate shoes! SHOES!

SULTRY POUTS

2010-09-07T20:04:00.002+08:00

Yesterday, oh yesterday. Yesterday I ran for 10 minutes in the rain. On a road. Barefooted. While eating a lollipop. (It was cola! :D) Then gave up and walked. I'm not sick. I have never been prouder of my immune system.

Oh and I like me blue nails. My tuition teacher called 'em green. :(

DESPERADO

2010-09-01T21:01:00.004+08:00

Maybe I'm just terrified of you not being there.

OF SALTY TEARS AND CRUSHED PILLOWS

2010-08-31T22:38:00.007+08:00

You saw my face. You heard my voice. You knew. Why didn't you just bloody look in my eyes and ask me properly? You felt the tension. You wouldn't look me in the eyes. I can see conclusions forming in your accusing mind. None of them true. You'll never know, will you? Its that that is killing me inside.

I loved you. I adored you. Heck, I even idolised you once. Perhaps. And then I grew up. You thought you could leave me alone and I'd still turn out a perfectly functioning human being in your mind. To be honest, your idea of perfection is one I loathe. Yet I was well trained and now I'm doing all I can to be different. To be a good person. To breakaway. You never could understand why I have such a need to leave. I need to get away from this. I'm being smothered here. I try to tell you but you give me a dirty look as if I told you I was the devil. I say I don't want to be you, you think its impossible. Why? Is it so incredible I don't value your values?

And then again, I look into your face. I see the questions and the worry. Why can't you just hold me and voice it out. Why does it have to be fun and games all the time? Why do every one of us hide behind a facade. Anxious for our true colours to be shown yet somehow fearful of the consequences. Afraid of tempers flaring, high strung tension. We all have a getaway, yet once every few months, you come back to haunt me.

Oh and I wished you wouldn't talk about me whenever I'm not around. I know what you did. After all the words and promises, it was the one thing I never expected from you. Was everything else lies too? I can't tell. I see you, all of you, and I wonder when, if ever, I'll be like that. I don't know if that is a good or bad thing anymore.

Oh, I hope no one actually read this. :/

REMEMBER

2010-08-27T23:06:00.003+08:00

Sometimes you just need a jolt to wake up and see the bigger picture. Sometimes you need to feel their pain before you comprehend yours. And finally you'll know that putting a smile on someone's face may be significant to them. It is the greatest joy of life. And after that you have to immortalise the sensation of absolute liberation in words so you'll never forget. :)

OH OH :)

2010-08-24T16:59:00.002+08:00

Its hard to stay mad when others know your weakness. :)

WORDS UNSPOKEN

2010-08-20T23:46:00.007+08:00

“Only a life lived for others is a life worth while.”

-Albert Einstein-

_____________________________________________________________________

“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children...to leave the world a better place...to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”

-Ralph Aldo Emerson-

I wish you knew. I would give my all for your disgrace.

ELECTRO PARADISE

2010-08-19T15:20:00.004+08:00

If thoughts were colours, my head would be a kaleidoscope. As if it were being looked in for the very first time, awe striking the user with its msytifyingly simple beauty, then realising it isn't anything worth marveling at. Oh, where to start?

Taste the divinity and mysteries surrounding you

I know. I know. I know I can't be perfect. I have bad judgement. I can't seem to do anything right. I'm lazy. I lack resilience. I procrastinate. I have a fuck-you attitude. Its my antidote for all. I push everything to the back of my mind and hope against hope it vanishes. Most of the time, it doesn't and I've got hell to face. I'm not you. Heck, that is probably the most apparent of all. And I'm sorry. You are too. I just wished you'd come right out and say it. I'm tired of annoyed glances and irritated monosyllabic answers. Yeah, I never prayed to be me but... well, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

Erotic stereo it's in the bass and trebble too

And then there's this. Oh how long? 8 months? Are you kidding me? I never fathomed it would come to this. I'm so sick. Oh god, I know I keep repeating myself. But I can't help but wish. Wishing it were different, wishing it still existed. But it doesn't. I'm so tired of being the one trying, the only one reaching out. I call and never get a call back; if i ask for a call, you're always busy. You reply me in monosyllables. And then you moan and whine to everyone about how I've unceremoniously dumped you for others. Honey, I just decided to wait and see if you would come to me. You claim I never reached out, I stopped being your friend. I can't bloody take it anymore. Its always that way. Its always me who has to take the first step. What if I can't, don't want to anymore? What if I want to be around people who are actual human beings for once? I'm done with you and all alike. So be it.

Throw both your hands above your head and let them levitate

I believe I have a thing for manbands. From The Beatles, BeeGees to my darling WESTLIFE. ♥

Oh soo finee with a capital F.

And be hypnotic and the trip won't stop

FML

2010-08-10T21:14:00.006+08:00

I'm so sad. How could I do this? :'( I'm going to cheer myself up by looking at hot pictures of Nickyy.

OMG he's hot. I love Westlife so much can die. ♥

I feel better already. (:

PS -

-YuWei- says:

monkeys