Sunday, October 31
Seemingly Mindless Test, Once More. eXpressive: 4/10
Practical : 2/10
Physical : 1/10
Giver : 7/10
You are a RSIG -- Reserved Sentimental Intellectual Giver. This makes you a People-Pleaser.
Oh, RSIG! You are the most complicated and dynamic of any type. You are brilliant, tender, romantic and a joy to be with. You're the favorite of many of your friends. It's just not a party until you get there. You are bursting with feeling and sentiment and insight but you very rarely express it -- it's not how you want to present yourself to the world. Although you are always studying your non-romantic relationships -- you turn a blind eye to romantic relationships.
You're highly adaptable, and you conform to your circumstances (maybe you're a youngest child?). You would probably be content with almost anyone, and almost anyone would be blissfully happy to have you. But just because you're content doesn't mean you're happy. Don't settle!
You'd rather ignore your problems than rock the boat by creating conflict. Please understand that in the long run ignoring conflict will make you unhappy and your partner exhausted. Try picking a fight just to see how it goes. You'll find out that solving problems is so satisfying for you that it makes conflict worth it.
Your sex life could be fantastic if you could stop worrying about everything so much (did I wash my hands? how do I look? what do I need to do tomorrow?). You need a sweet, expressive lover who makes you feel at ease and never puts pressure on you. If you feel secure with your partner outside the bedroom, it will make all the difference.
You cry at movies. A lot.
Of the 144708 people who have taken this quiz, 5.7 % are this type.
I 'm totally zonked out.
I have zilch energy to lay down my two-cents worth.
Meanwhile, I'll consider whether the results above is accurate.
If my flesh is willing, that is.
Ah well, i can feel my eyes tearing and shutting automatically, already.
'Til the morrow that awakens me.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 1:30 AM
Monday, October 25
Blogfast II, underway.
I must stop.
Enough is enough.
All shall end to-day.
Run, run away!
Go along the well-trodden path.
Quickly, now or risk His wrath!
All shall end to-day.
Take, take it with you!
Your presence, your memories, your smile,
And don't forget your wile!
Your stay was long overdue.
Spare me the pain,
I pray, I say!
My words shall drip with disdain.
Go, go away.
Please don't turn back again.
Because all must end to-day.
- a Petrarchan Sonnet.
***
d e b b e e e kvetched at 5:52 PM
I can't resist posting to my heart's content before my Blogfast II starts.
Do You Only Wanna Dance
by Mya
Funny thing is when I look into your eyes
I sense something so sincere in your disguise
You whisper secrets I hear only in my dreams
Then I wake up to your tele-smoke screen
I wait patiently while you play your game
Cause in the end, I'll be the winner all the same
You'll see clearly when the song comes to a stop
I'll be the one blowing kisses from the top
*(So baby, stop) Stop, you're surrounded
(I got my love) Love all around ya
(One wrong move) Move and I'll down ya
And that'll end ya
You should surrender
You'll never win
Unless you give in
So won't you give our love a chance?
Or do you only wanna dance?
You put your lips very closely to my face
And then you run away and so begins the chase
I'll be the hunter, but boy, you better pray
Cause when I want ya,
I'll get you anyway
You know what I wanna do
It ain't nothing new
I'm tired of dropping clues
So, gonna step to you
Will you rise to my occasion?
Or will you make me change your station?
*chorus
If you take my hands
And follow my lead
I'll make you dance (I can make you dance)
But if you get my feet (Get my feet)
And miss the beat (And miss the beat)
Then I can't take that chance (Then I can't take that chance)
If you take my hands (Oh)
And follow my lead (Oh, Oh, oh-oh)
I'll make you dance (I can make you dance)
But if you get my feet (Get my feet)
And miss the beat (And miss the beat)
Then I can't take that chance (I can't take it)
*chorus
It's Dirty Dancing 2: Havana Nights ,
one of my all-time favourites.
I rewatched (for the 12654265th time)
and can almost memorise the scene/shot sequence.
Everytime I watch it,
I like a different scene.
This time round,
I am captivated by the second-last scene,
when Katey bids Javier goodbye for the last time.
Then they have some very nice lines,
and this awesome slow dance to a short song I cannot find in the OST.
Yes, I am obsessed with DD2: Havana Nights.
The film, the trailers, the soundtrack and all.
With the original Dirty Dancing, too.
For the happily-ignorant,
the original and DD2 have absolutely no link.
(even though the same'ol guy from the original comes back in the latter, having aged 20 years.)
Do YOU know DD2: Havana Nights is based on true life events?
But it's pretty sad,
because I know Castro's reign didn't just end there and then in reality.
I know civillian wars were rampant even after,
and Cuba was still in raging poverty and unrest.
A world of difference from Javier's ideals.
The only not-so-good (yes, I am extremely biased) part was the ending.
Okay, okay - perhaps the entire build-up to the climax was not very good either.
Hey! But it's still a good show, alright?
Diego Luna is too suave for words.
Romolo Garai (she'll be in Vanity Fair) is so natural.
How can I not fall in love with this show?
You should, too.
***
d e b b e e e kvetched at 5:04 PM
Being roused from sleep is not pleasant at all.
Especially when you are in the midst of a most interesting dream.
Alas, I have no recollection of the unjustly disrupted dream.
I think I was trying to sing a song, with an audience of one.
But i'm not too sure who, though.
I sure would like to think it was God, Himself.
I digress.
So, I was awakened at noon,
by the famed continual, persistent rapping of my mum's,
on my poor bedroom door.
I am seldom distracted from sleep by anything that emits sound:
- handphones
- alarm clocks
- voices
- house phones
- teevee
- radio
- bratty gangster-wannabes at the carpark
(hollering at the top of their voices, God knows why)
It is a sad truth.
But then comes along my mum
with her series of urgent-sounding knocks.
It never fails to jolt me back to [read: i-don't-want-to-come-back-to-this] reality.
This is Reality.
OH, how I adore my mum.
Minus the naggy and rude aspects, of course.
I want to be just like her -
teriffic mum, fabulous woman, one-of-a-kind matriarch.
It is a wonder I woke up to sunshine today.
Whatever happened to all the rain?
I don't really like sunshine in the morning.
I like the dusky sun in twilight.
Awestruck.
I woke up at noon, yes.
Considering I slept at two in the morning,
it was merely ten hours worth of eye-shut.
of dreaming.
of non-reality.
I was actually watching those late-night Chinese movies on 8 and U.
They are really far more interesting than those shown in primetime.
Ah, yes - I know the after-ten regulation,
thankyouverymuchforremindingmeofMedSoc.
It was a female (and badly-humoured) version of HK's Gu Huo Zai.
(Haiyah! I don't know what the translation is, alright?)
But it was funny, nonetheless.
Melodrama aplenty, and
-SurpriseSurprise!-
old-fashioned but sweet romance.
See, The Funny Guy and his Dream-Girl had taken aphrodisiac unknowingly.
TFG loves DG so much that he wouldn't bear to take advantage of her.
But aphrodisiac, you say!
So what does TFG do?
He runs headlong into a nearby wall,
and his head hits -SMACK!- a payphone look-alike on the wall.
ouch, ouch, ouch... ...
So cliched, right?
And still so romantic!
Sure beats the kind of touchy (!!) lovey-dovey scenes in primetime.
Yes, you've got it right.
I'm a PDA-nazi.
P ublic
D isplay [of]
A ffection
Romancing Singapore! is nice and all,
but it does not extend to the encouragement of groping, fondling and the like.
In public somemore.
Yes!
I'm talking about those clad in school uniform,
their child-like faces betraying their age and innocence.
I still recall this year's V-day,
the one I spent with Yvonne at vocal training with Jenn.
We were on the train to Tiong Bahru from Bedok,
and our eyes were treated to endless agony.
Every direction we turned towards,
there were couples as tightly packed as the Ikea's furniture you bring home.
I was tempted to offer help so that they do not have to bundle up.
"Are you THAT cold? I can offer MY jacket."
"You feel cramped over there? We'll exchange seats with you!"
"Is she fainting? Is she fainting? I'll call the ambulance NOW!!!"
Yes, so I am a PDA-nazi.
And no,
you do not sense sour grapes.
The only thing i was envious of was the ten bouquet of roses my sister had.
(Anyway, they weren't even from her husband)
Or was it twelve?
Okay, the number doesn't matter,
because the prettiest bouquet was
the blood-red, deeply crimsoned ones.
In full-bloom, too.
Oh wait -
wrong information.
Those roses were for her birthday, not V-day.
So, my sister is very much happier on days like these than me.
I think she's a PDA-nazi, too. YAYS.
After a very long semi-hiatus from fellowship,
I got down to oikos on friday and service yesterday.
It's pretty interesting, i guess.
And i rediscovered the wonders of sitting alone in service.
It's so... ... serene.
This is not being anti-social lah.
It's being wholly absorbed in Him, alone.
You must be thinking when i'm ending this entry.
It's a long, naggy, draggy post.
Simply because I am embarking on a Blogfast II.
Anything that happens in the coming days shall be imprisoned,
in the dingy corridor of my memory.
I'll be back after the Ambassador's bonding camp
to retell the story.
The story of my mindless Mind.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 1:19 PM
Sunday, October 24
I detest html.
After long, gruelling hours of tweaking 'em,
I finally emerged victorious.
The expired debbeeeeeeeeeeeee link can finally work in the sideboard.
I absolutely adore the weather nowadays.
The cold and grey mornings,
which make you prop yourself up in bed to think.
Think deeply.
Well, not as deep as you'd figure, perhaps.
I am only a boring girl,
stuck in a wicked world.
I am spending waaaaaaaaaaaaay too much time online.
I have decided -
The Return of The Blogfast
Commencing next week.
I hope.
My hands will itch like mad,
my mind bursting with thoughts that scream to be noted down.
I will sniff away in deprivation,
but it's for my own good.
There's always the hand-written fashion to fall back on.
I'm awaiting next semester,
but dreading it concurrently.
Debbeeeology reads:
"Haiyah,
to hell with everything
and anything obtrusive."
Hmmm.
It's hard to follow your head all the time, though.
The headiness can annul your head's decisions. (pun not intended)
I have a real tough time,
trying to comprehend certain people.
Their words and actions;
manners and personas.
Especially when all of these do not match.
The amusement value wears off,
after you realise it's not as simple as you think -
when you know it affects you.
Or even just the faintest of an inkling will suffice.
Devious minds, ticking away.
Well, i can be as devious.
I think everyone has the seed in them.
It is just a matter of the supressing this wicked notion.
By now,
I am pretty sure the observant have perceived a theme forming here.
A hundred and twenty-four entries,
dwelling upon the same old, same old.
. C H O I C E .
Living out choices.
Even to live, is a choice by default.
Mounting regret threatens to haunt relentlessly.
But then again, we have to choose -
whether to contend with Choice, or not.
Debbeeeology says:
What of being fickle?
I am merely quick to decide that
something else is better.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 1:05 AM
Saturday, October 23
What's Your Flavor?
Mmm ... licorice! Strong and edgy, you're the flavor of black jellybeans and Good 'n' Plentys. Some people absolutely love you (in fact, they might even find you addictive), but you're definitely not for everyone. But that's okay with you ? you'd rather pick and choose your companions. When you have time for friends at all, that is. Powerful and very potent, you're goal-oriented and ambitious ? you don't let much stand in your way. There's nothing sweet or sugary about you; you're a serious taste that's best suited for the truly focused. Lingering, enigmatic, and a little hard to pin down, you're a truly tantalizing treat.
http://web.tickle.com/tests/standard/flavor.jsp
Deb, you've been crowned Miss Originality!
They just don't make many like you. You're an independent thinker who creates her own style in everything you do, from choosing clothes, to solving problems, to planning your next big vacation. The judges sure made note of your one-of-a-kind spirit ? it could have been the belly dancing routine, or the funky formal wear ? or it could have just been the way you sashayed across the stage with a little extra attitude.Your unique way of looking at the world makes you a lot of fun to hang around. Who knows what you'll say next ? or what fantastic plan you'll come up with for Friday night. So, Beauty Queen, need a platform that's as original as you are? How about encouraging others to stop worrying about fitting in, and start celebrating all our delicious differences?
http://web.tickle.com/tests/beautypageant/
Deb, your connection type is The In-depth Conversationalist
Whether it's 4 in the morning or 4 in the afternoon, you're probably the friend people call when they need someone to talk to. "Lean on me" might as well be your theme song. You're a great confidante and advisor who's especially good at listening to your pals when something's on their mind. Just make sure they're willing to do the same for you!Marathon phone calls don't tire you out! You've been working on your endurance for years. Whether talking about the major events in your life, spelling out every detail of your last vacation, or giving the all important blow-by-blow of your last date, you've got stories to share with the loved ones in your life! And if that afterthought occurs just after you hang up? No worries. You're not ashamed to call back for a quick update. Sure, your friends might tease you about your flair for drama and attention to detail. But they always know that when they need you, you're just a phone call away.
http://web.tickle.com/tests/connect/
When you know.
How bored i can get.
I'm back at amusing myself with tests.
I don't quite agree with the Flavour Test, though.
They ought to offer cross-betweens.
I identify with both Licorice and Peppermint.
Go, take the test and read about the flavours.
And don't forget to post some results,
so I can share in the amusement, too.
On the topic of posting results,
I must say I'm quite a web-voyeurist.
No - not the licentious sort,
but more of the quietly observing kind.
i get very amused by prying on others.
Now, you ask if it's ethical or not.
Well, in any case,
I don't subsist on gossip about the fruits of my l'il voyeuristic trips.
Aiiight.
I ought to keep quiet.
I'm full of anticipation for Christmas.
Sing me some carols, will you?
d e b b e e e kvetched at 1:55 PM
Friday, October 22
There's barely light outside.
and I've to contend with a faucet-nasal dysfunction,
and a perennial stream of thoughts.
Stray ones;
illogical and highly cryptic.
This is going to be one naggy, disjointed entry.
It's a reflex.
Something's shifted in the ruthless course of Time.
I keep going back for more,
it's a voluntary reflex.
Or perhaps, you can say it's an addiction.
I need to get over it -
Providence wills it.
Sketchy envisions pop in and out,
ever so often.
I need to capture these fleeting moments.
I need to get art gum, graphite chalk and a bottle of fixative.
Talking about fixatives,
wouldn't it be nice if Life could be fixated in the same fashion?
The preservation of all things beautiful and treasured.
Framed meticulously and admired from all angles.
Yet,
the worth of these times are in their transitory nature, are they not?
Upon close scrutiny,
will not innumerous flaws be uncovered?
I give thanks to God,
He who holds the key of wisdom
to every single archway of human doubt.
i can hardly believe that my O Levels took place two years ago.
TWO YEARS.
Two freakin' long years.
So, debbeee, what the hell have you been up to in the span of two years?
Truth to be told,
I have been wandering aimlessly for those 730 days.
Almost like Moses and his people,
stuck in the desert for 40 years.
I guess I was much more blessed.
In any case,
my recent Media in Society paper filled me with pangs of nostalgia,
reminding me of the O Levels i had,
two years ago.
Except this time round,
i am not clad in uniform - no silver buttons (i miss 'em, really)
and i was not in panic-attack mode.
Unlike Social Studies paper. (ugh)
Looking back at it,
O Levels were actually chicken feed.
Ha ha.
Considering i crammed only after Prelims' results were draining me of tears,
my aggregate wasn't too bad.
It isn't my fault that I just can't get an A2 for math lah.
Seeing them caught up in the feverish preparations,
how can I possibly sit by and simply gawk?
I'm on hols' anyway,
so I shall make full use of my time to teach 'em.
well,
not that I'm that great a teacher,
but that's besides the point.
I know how lethargic things can get, man.
i still have my honourable history notes -
painstakingly hand-drawn and handwritten.
okay - enough of O Levels.
I hope the next semester comes soon.
I can't wait to start writcomm.
I am almost sure that it's going to be much more enjoyable than specomm
Almost.
There, there.
I'm thinking gibberish again.
I think i'm happy,
and if i think hard enough,
it may very well materialize into the truth.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 7:29 AM
Wednesday, October 20
i can't grasp the concept of weblogs ousting the good old-fashioned diaries from the writers' platform.
i mean,
how can this be?
weblogs are a whole lot different from the traditional diaries.
for one,
they are publicised and open to raw criticism.
nothing too private, emotional or embarassing will appear here.
weblogs can never measure up to the good'ol handwritten notebook.
the thoughts that translates into your own handwriting.
Every letter to call your own -
marked by unique personalities;
Every line, dot that forms the seemingly mindless doodling -
springing to life as though inbreathed with your emotions.
now,
nothing of this sort can be achieved by the keyboard.
no matter how hard you try.
uncharacteristic fonts masks the truest.
weblogs are, but a tool of convenience.
after i finish this entry,
i shall go write in my book.
it is The Book.
hah.
okay, not funny.
i had nothing, but a stack of CME papers for company.
i'll talk about that tomorrow,
because i need to go replenish my store of tissues now.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 10:28 PM
Tuesday, October 19
i a m h a p p y .
ah yes, i am.
the dash of positivity mixed into a whole load of
post semestral trauma.
post semestral trauma
is defined as the involuntary pessimism induced by
the following reasons:
1. fear of the upcoming semester
2. uncertainty of the final grades
3. longing of certain likeable modules
4. withdrawal symptoms from addictive pastimes,
eg. spasm-ing
it's official now,
since editing was completed today.
i think i will miss location video production.
and my lecturer, MAM
and the cage.
and the cage-uncles.
and the fishtank.
and my group.
and the many spasm-ing moments, savoured.
but it's alright.
one gone, five semesters to go.
i half-reckon i'll suffer another 4 more bouts of post semestral trauma
before a more complex of its kind engulfs me.
hmmm.
geylang serai was a food haven.
but a word of caution -
spasm-ing and hunger do not go well together.
my heartfelt appreciation for nurul, noor, hana and lynn,
for the endless stream of amusement.
for the hugs.
for the bargaining.
for the gorging.
for the spasms.
to-day, to-day.
marks the end of it all.
the closure of daily serving of spasms.
till the start of the next semester, that is.
every single detail is still etched deeply.
i shall laugh inwardly till the comical effect wears off.
anything not-so-good will not be allowed to strut their stuff today.
they can wait till tomorrow.
or never.
but for now, i'll settle for this. a nice one.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 1:45 AM
Sunday, October 17
i shall not allow myself to be spurned.
i shall not allow this haven of mine to carry the stains of my ugly tapestry.
this is my make-believe.
okay.
dinner, triumvirate style.
Q. who can keep me entertained like the triumvirs?
A. lembek-jean and powerpuff-esther.
no-one else can will me to step out of the house with a sore throat and spinning head.
no-one else can keep me walking around aimlessly for at least half an hour, seeking out a place to eat.
no-one else can listen to my tea-salad theory and still think i'm sane.
no one else can make me miss sajc THAT much.
therefore, we shall do this again, and induct masalah into this fabulous dining style.
as you would probably have noticed,
i have zero social-life -
my days revolve around the same'ol, same'ol.
it's always sajc/dhs/fms/church,
and the list repeats itself.
much of my life is spent at home,
agonising over why i'm living this life.
convincing myself there's a higher purpose.
insisting people are not that evil, afterall.
redeeming my mind from paranoia.
yes, i said it.
P A R A N O I A
even the triumvirate reckons i'm a wreck.
hah.
i'm certain everyone has these doubts -
it's just a matter of choice.
whether you want to live in oblivion,
or not.
well, i chose the latter.
what about you?
d e b b e e e kvetched at 3:08 PM
Saturday, October 16
.no bread and butter. but there'll be jam[ming] for breakfast.
at tiffany's?
right, i'm just being incoherent.
it's the spinning head.
the swirls of aftereffects
of psychedelic playing.
almost.
i wish i could measure up.
but the sheer hardwork and steely determination is not mine.
it's alright.i gain some, i lose some.
tea was an affable affair.
camommile soothes, and tastes awesome without sugar.
unlike other processed teas.
you see, processed ones are robbed of their originality and wholesome goodness.
tsk, tsk.
alas, what a pity.
i am apologetic to say this -
i have yet, misjudged another personality.
who would have known?
but it's kind of fun, actually.
trying to guess the persona behind the smiles.
the air clammy with a perpetual element of surprise.
there goes my only hope of a distinction this semester.
unless He's willing to work a miracle in my unworthy life.
i ought to kick myself for being lazy and unconcerned.
for being distracted and
lazy.
so this marks the end of the first semester.
one down, five to go.
meanwhile, i'll continue sourcing for The Christmas Mystery by Jostein Gaarder.
not just any ol'copy.
i insist on the green one, with some very beautiful pictures on the cover.
hmmm.
another excellent illustration of the severe lack of human goodwill.
another thought-haven desecrated.
another episode of the all-too-familiar issue on intrusion of privacy.
on the finger-pointing when no names are mentioned?
indignation sweeps me away.
i ought to have held on.
you should, too.
everyone.
A derisive smirk
Scathing tongues?
Swamp me in murk
Yes. I am high-strung!
Demons lurk
Frenzied alarms rung
Devious minds at work:
Sore hearts stung
Spare me, You Turk
I am all wrung.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 1:58 PM
Friday, October 15
I'll worship at Your Throne
Whisper my own love song
With all my heart I'll sing
For You my Dad and King
I'll live for all my days
To put a smile on Your face
And when we finally meet
It'll be for eternity
And Oh, how wide You open up Your arms
When I need Your love
How far You would come
If ever I was lost
And You said that all You feel
for me
Is undying love
That You showed me through the cross
I'll worship You my God
I'll worship You my God
I love You
I love You
Forever I will sing
Forever I will be with You
Be with
You
my sole source of solace.
strumming away softly in the dead of the night.
when singing is just not enough.
ah, the times i heard the kids' voices on high.
nothing beats this.
i shall do this more often.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 2:05 AM
Thursday, October 14
i don't want to think of what it'll be like,
mugging for div;
rushing coursework for art;
getting kicked out of Mac's alongside the triumvirate.
it would probably be better than now -
than being disheartened by the salads and
more salads.
perchance, i'm morphing into one, too?
d e b b e e e kvetched at 10:12 PM
Tuesday, October 12
the intrigues of human interaction.
or the lack thereof.
this is a sticky issue.
i hate having to pretend.
it's just damn tiring.
but by the looks of it,
people all around are just pretending.
i don't even know who aren't, anymore.
it's alright, i say.
a l l r i g h t .
because i am, too.
human interaction is dangerous -
that is what i discovered over the past week.
every single sound you utter has to be weighed carefully.
every single letter you pen down is of consequence.
it's kind of fun, though.
especially when you are spying a squabble.
the best part?
it's just kind of meaningless.
but intriguing, nonetheless.
i begin to wonder -
is seventeen the traumatic age?
i can't say for sure,
but for me,
OH definitely.
one thing for sure:
i wasn't as childish.
HEY, i'm not judging here.
it's a fact.
i didn't
-giggle girlishly
-scream piercingly (irritatingly)
-curse for the thrill of it
since the age of thirteen.
that's besides shedding tears in public,
but that's another story for another day.
i take a step back to see the whole picture,
and i really want to ask Him.
ask Him,
'why are we such selfish, sadistic and pretentious creations?'
i don't even want to guess his/her/their intentions.
i would rather not.
i have an inkling it is probably my affirmative.
there are many things going on around me.
and i have no wish to sully my days with these -
they are sullen enough, already.
but thank God,
all of these met,
but didn't collide.
ugh.
i'm quite sick of the growing frivolity.
that of others, and that in me.
the flippant comments;
rash decisions;
harsh words;
steely manners;
ignorant treatment.
haiyah.
take my words
and multiply it by a hundred-fold -
still,
you'll barely have a glimpse of what i'm going through.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 8:38 PM
Monday, October 11
i reckon i should really go be a hermit.
i'm sick of communication.
or rather, i'm weak at it.
i need to seal my mouth, henceforth.
OH, the kind of trouble i court.
someone cure me of chronic sarcarsm.
but it's too late - i'm already a victim of my own doing,
yet again.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 11:30 AM
Sunday, October 10
You are the color turquoise. A fairly tempermental
person, you're either upset or tranquil most of
the time. You can be as calm as your color.
You're a mysterious person, yet somehow
outgoing. You're balanced, simply put. You're
somewhat bold. You're generous and
sophisticated--but never ever snobby. You're
lively and rich in personality and attitude.
You're a beautiful person, aside from the fact
that you're a perfectionist and painfully
honest. But life is good to you!
What color are you? (Amazingly detailed & accurate--with pics!)
brought to you by
good riddance to bad rubbish .
but i never seem to be able to to get myself off the addiction to such.
life is good to me?
SHOW IT TO ME!
painfully honest?
i wish, sometimes.
but i'm not at all that bold to speak forth my opinions.
not even two-cents worth, mind you.
okay,
back from wandering among my thoughts.
thoughts that were strewn along Memory's dingy corridoor.
i gathered,
perhaps i should just seal my lips,
stop uttering worthless thoughts.
stop courting trouble.
OH, and i realised.
i'm pretty ignorable.
johnny can vouch for that one.
it's not really a problem, really.
it actually aids me in keeping my mouth shut.
i'm falling prey to gossip.
which is bad, very bad.
but it's just so enticing.
haiyah, i'm in the makings of an auntie already.
soon enough, soon enough.
when i thought somemore about what i wrote back a few entries,
i was seized by a mounting fear.
what if i was the only one Joker performing,
and the rest the audience?
they'd have laughed to their fill,
feeding on my eccentric ways.
what if?
or perhaps, i'd been acting for my own sake.
i enjoyed my performance.
as i've said,
i'm the puppet, puppeteer and audience.
i laugh at myself,
i boo myself.
i encourage myself,
i scoff at myself.
i admire myself,
i am disgusted by myself.
you know?
i'm the epitome of contradictions.
i'll never leave a trail for you to follow intentionally,
because i never know when i'll change my mind.
and THAT,
will mean a whole load of trouble, too.
This world is not my own.
Saltwater
wells up in my eyes.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 11:14 PM
Friday, October 8
Life has been hell of a roller coaster ride for me.
my answers are no, No and NO.
1. no - i'm not in depression. i'm just being fickle-minded as usual.
2. No - i'm not wandering away from Him. i'm just being a l'il lost, going around in circles.
3. NO - i'm not having romance issues. period.
it's just -again- that twinge of regret for entering MCM.
it's not the modules, really, they are superb.
it's not the distance problem.
it's not the lecturers' issue, even.
simply the fact i learnt the ways of the world - THE HARD WAY.
i was contemplating on how things would have been if i stayed on in SA.
mugging for div and lit now.
happily signing up with MOE to be an art teacher, one as slack as ms tan.
happily ever after?
sometimes, it's better not to think so hard, afterall.
maybe in a few more months' time,
i'll be out and off to really sign up for MOE's nafa scholarship.
-choy-
d e b b e e e kvetched at 10:50 AM
Thursday, October 7
"thou art fool of them all!"
waterlogged freak
barely breathing
the verge of pieced tranquility
almost there.
it's always a different story, altogether.
so, you thought
whilst i sought:
to comprehend.
never wanted to roll back,
back to square one.
it's like rewinding a year,
returning to probabilities.
i've lied to myself too much.
i need redemption.
just another fortnight,
then it's gameover.
The fate of the fool will overtake me also
- Ecclesiates 3:15
d e b b e e e kvetched at 11:28 PM
Wednesday, October 6
i can't wait, i can't wait.
my own source has almost dried up,
and i'm feeling exhausted.
i need a fresh infilling,
i need to sing . . .
i want to sing
until i am lost in Your love
till i am found in Your presence
worshipping before Your throne
filled by Your Spirit
entering into His flow
how precious these moments
Lord i want you to know
it is You
You who have won my heart
taken me into Your arms
You've comforted me like a friend
Your love
surrounded me from the start
i never want to be apart
from You ever again
everything will be fine.
just fine.
i'm fine, i'm good.
i'm God's own child,
so i'll be strong.
no matter what happens.
NO MATTER WHAT.
i'll let it all pass.
i'm just waiting for God to take me home.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 1:09 PM
Tuesday, October 5
life's your stage,
so entertain me.
but make sure it's a comedy, so i can laugh.
an entire quota allotted?
i will not waste any of it.
i never know when i will wake up, or not.
it may be the last.
but what if i realise i was laughing at myself?
i'll still laugh, anyway.
there may not be much things to laugh about in the warped world, today.
but who said i have to laugh in joy?
there are many things, in fact, that are amusing.
the very fact you're here, merits much entertainment value.
my stage has long collapsed,
so my deepest apologies for not being able to amuse you in return.
i know.
i'm in transitions, now, like yesterday's speech.
alas, peer pressure?
now, i say that it's gibberish.
who needs friends?
i'm not in depression.
i'm just stating facts i've been trying to ignore.
what you didn't know.
i'm living out the art of puppetry - puppet, puppeteer, and all.
i control myself.
yet, i'm not in control of myself.
you don't see me.
you just saw me.
through a glass, darkly.
can you see a l'il of yourself in me?
d e b b e e e kvetched at 11:34 PM
Friday, October 1
i tried.
i really tried.
it's the kind of situation -
when you scrunch up your eyes,
the tingling sensation tickles your nose;
the churning and sinking of your insides.
i am extremely disgusted.
appalled by the cruelty of mankind.
no - cruelty is not the word - it's far more threatening than that.
yell.
yell somemore, deb.
if there's anything or anyone who can make me weep now,
it'll have to be myself.
it is amazing what a little deprivation of sleep can lead to.
i sincerely believe that rest is inversely-proportionate to depression.
i don't have the energy to hate, anymore.
it tires me even to simply shed tears.
i just want to be alone.
after this entry,
i know i will not have felt better.
but time and tide waits for no man.
i shall not allow myself to wallow in misery.
i'll be alright after a good tear-jerker,
like Moulin Rouge.
or Minfong Ho's book.
or some Cranberries.
i may have taken a wrong step, again.
should i be selfish, so as not to be taken for granted?
i contemplate upon the like, for countless times.
a rough week has proven to knock on my conscience's door.
will i survive the challenge?
do i dare to?
excuse me, but i need to seek enlightenment with Him.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 10:47 PM