Wednesday, August 31
This is as good as it gets.
So things come to a surprising standstill now. The earth almost stopped spinning and debbeee nearly forgot to breathe.
This is as good as it gets.
They say spilt milk is spilt and therefore one shouldn't cry over it. But really, there isn't anything else to do but be extremely sour. So I cry in hope my tears can ferment and curdle the spilt milk and choke -
This is as good as it gets.
Am I a pushover or what? This is my fault, really. I thought I learnt to work with people - well, it seems that I didn't.
This is as good as it gets.
I almost swore, but I seriously shouldn't. I channeled my internal ire onto food. I gobbled them as though they owed me a lifetime of palatable pleasure. I still feel inadequately appeased.
This is as good as it gets.
So this is how the curtains fall and the lights dim at the interlude of my second year in fms. None of the brilliance and glamour as promised; I have at least emerged wiser and more prudent.
Let me be annoyingly crabby for now because this is
as good as
it gets.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 4:55 PM
Sunday, August 28
I don't allow excessive self-expression at any given point of time.
It instills in me too much paranoia and emptiness.
There are always moments frozen in dawning comprehension.
I have poured much into this space.
This is where I fell the deepest and found the most.
Maybe the fear lies in not wanting anyone to understand me.
Otherwise, I'd have no more excuses.
So the fact that I delude myself proves that I still don't understand my mind.
Silence steals the scene;
yet not silence reigns within?
A gush of cacao beans bursting in taste -
the bloodied heart felt and lied in haste.
"Fear not! I'm good! And clean!
Merely bitter berry balm down my front in waste!"
d e b b e e e kvetched at 4:01 AM
Thursday, August 25
Gibberish.
That, incidentally, is my native tongue acquired of late.
Not everyone can manage the such complicated languages with the sophistication that I muster.
It's a whole new record - less than eight healthy hours in a total of three days.
That's how I endured gruelling mind battles to master Gibberish.
I swear never to take media research and advertising again.
(oh wait, never say things like that before you jinx yourself)
I love to snack.
Oh, how very random these words are!
I really surprise myself sometimes.
So surprise me again, my good'ol self!
I'm actually extremely cranky now, and all I want is a little love.
Now that my bebes are scattered all over this sunny island, I lack this potent ingredient.
So instead of having me surprising myself, can someone surprise me?
(and I do mean surprise - not shock or scare)
As random as random.
"... pursue the flighty temptress, adventure..."
d e b b e e e kvetched at 11:47 PM
Monday, August 22
Phooey.
The devil certainly knows how to be very irritating.
He really turns out to be the world's greatest prancing twit.
http://pushpushpush.blogspot.com is cranky now. I have absolutely no inclination nor energy to be terribly upset. I am merely staring sullenly at the monitor and wondering why am I not in bed.
In case any bc youths are reading this, PLEASE CONTINUE PRAYING. The calendar can still be accessed since it is not completely obstructed by the overlapping. We can still click and view the calendar and still keep on PUSHing.
CS (BC) registration is therefore relocated to http://areyougame.blogspot.com so it's no excuse for not signing up for this deadly exciting event. Keep checking back for details to this mystrious event I'm talking about or simply tag to enquire.
I won't bite.
I promise.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 1:14 AM
Thursday, August 11
It's a beautiful moment,
soaked through and through,
in the glorious sadness of a completed Red Curtain Trilogy.
The ceaseless wonders of a play script brought alive in a new dimension on the silver screen, or in my case - a glaring computer monitor. I still fancy the original play, yet Baz Luhrmann brings revived intrigue and symbolism to one, cliched twenty-two times over. So that adds onto Strictly Ballroom and Moulin Rouge to form the unforgivably outstanding trilogy. They make me weep four buckets' worth.
Now I'm jealous of three men: William Shakespeare, Oscar Wilde and Baz Luhrmann.
The latter has an untitled production to be released in 2006, and I am aching terribly for it. I simply live off DVDs and VCDs, with school as merely a sideline. Meanwhile, as I continue drowning myself in deepest sorrow for the star-crossed lovers, won't we share in the gall-like bitterness plus triple-coated dulce?
my favourite scene in
the entire film.
never wonder why aquariums
are considered romantic?
the best wedding band...
... EVER.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 12:12 AM
Monday, August 8
Everybody needs space.
Some more than others.
I cannot pretend I am not unnerved,
I know perfectly well I should not impose my standards on others.
I know, however, I cannot compromise and let down.
Let's talk.
Am I to be my sole audience, then?
Let's see.
I forgot to ask if my willed blindness can be lifted.
Let's hear.
I am a little tired of your voice, in truth.
Let's go.
You and I and everyone else - away on our own separate thoughts.
That will be all.
As of today, I pack in my internal morosity.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 1:54 AM
Monday, August 1
A trip to the Esplanade in the morning made quite a remarkable difference to my mood. Acute disappointment is not productive at all. Throwing my energy into every other aspect will perhaps, give me a little more endurance and renew my confidence.
I must admit I have little flair for photography - merely an unusual eye for appreciation at the most. Besides, it doesn't help that my camera isn't superb. I think I want to start a collection of toddler and infant shots, after realising they are my favourite subjects today.
KidA, as I affectionately labelled him as, is from Taiwan and appears to be exceptionally grumpy. But he's an interesting kid, with funny expressions and gestures. His mother was very easy about letting a stranger snap photo after photo of her son, even coaxing him to give me a 'V' for victory pose as I busily focused on his emanating grumpiness.
Looking foward to FOP with loads of expectance weighing down my heart.
There must be more than this.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 7:48 PM