Thursday, January 19
Cast aside.
Bruised and tattered.
With pupils shining,
a strained song arises:
Go forth, then.
Leave me here.
You need me no more,
so I enclose my heart,
my tears.
Your memories.
With pupils shining,
frothing
the last breaths of a sacrificial death.
This is a calculated haste: half a spur of the moment, half an age old temptation.
I'm never quite the person to let go. In fact, I cling on awfully hard. Yet I don't wish to tarry on in a place that echoes with the ghosts of a scarred history, hence the shift. It's a new year afterall, and I have resolutions to keep. Goals to achieve. Objectives to meet. Rules to abide by. Wished to be fulfilled. Whatever it is, I'm ready for the draw of fresh air. On hindsight, this place will never be forgotten, for it has walked me through the two most difficult years of teenagehood.
It's got to be a win-win situation. I'll never raze this place down to oblivion. It'll be like revisiting an old friend, or the childhood playground at which I used to cry at the slides, or biting the colourful icing sugars off the tiny gem biscuits again. It's going to be like a door that never shuts between two worlds that co-exists on a parallel level and Time ceases to matter.
So, meet you at my new hideout.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 11:07 PM
Tuesday, January 17
My head's about to explode in roughly, twenty-six seconds.
May I just hereby, condemn SIM's desserts stall because they [un]intentionally poisoned me? I am hardly the Snow White, for goodness' sake, so why put me through such an episode of misfortune? I'd rather be the dwarf anytime.
It's truly the night of a thousand shivers. I have never experienced a worse bus-ride. Every ten metres it moves seems to last half an hour. I felt like I was in icy Narnia, only without the nice fauns and centaurs. Heck, I didn't even have a girly fur coat!
I haven't eaten anything for the past nineteen hours. If I have to lose weight this way, I'd rather be a sumo-wrestler. I want to eat, but my stomach churns ever so vigorously at the mere thought of food. Ugh, I smell the devils that waft across the chilly air to taunt my stomach.
Thy kitchen hath no mercy. Oho! None at all.
Whatever it is, I hope the school won't debarr me because I am missing this entire day of lectures. To be ill is one stroke out of the censure of misfortune; to be debarred is two. To be debarred because I am ill is beyond the little tolerance I hold for the absurdities of life. Bah.
Alright, before my eyes are squelched out because the computer screen is hurting them, I shall go back to counting down before my head explodes. Or implodes. Gah.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 12:41 PM
Tuesday, January 10
"
Jesus, won't You light my way?
Jesus, won't You light my way?
"
What grace is this?
That saved my soul!
My God, my God.
I give it all!
The endless rain (or so I supposed) finally ceased, much to my surprise and somewhat, dismay. Besides being deprived of the chance to wear jeans and pants, or anything that may get wet along the puddle-y streets, I thought it was really cool to wear three or more layers everyday.
Shiok, lah.
It's been a giddy week. Excitement aplenty, with a dash of glorious sadness. I am thankful for the wonderful surprises He has graciously given, but I'm battling [bloody] beliefs. The headaches, swollen eyes, Cathrine Lim novel and cheezels come together in a major conspiracy.
Toilet-bowl moments. Facing the white tiles, examining the patterned toilet paper, delicately tracing the checkered flooring with my toe. Perched atop the toilet-bowl with the cover on is an extremely uncomfortable position for aimless pondering - but just as well so I won't fall asleep there. It's not easy to find the solitude I crave for in an HDB flat, you see. There aren't many such spots or chances.
I want to take time to relax. My calculations shouldn't fail me: I should be released from the unrelenting clutches of school by third of March. That will mark the start of a new journey. Away, away! Away from it all. Solitude comes with a price.
I had a productive Saturday, unexpectedly. I had brunch with my mama, watched a hilarious Taiwanese drama showstarring Zaizai, 5566's variety show and Full Metal Alchemist together, painted her fingernails and got nagged at. How fulfilling, how comforting. She actually thinks that I am still eighteen. Oh, the horror. Haiyah, she's awfully disappointed because I am actually nearing the big two and have absolutely no potential suitors in sight. I promised her that I ought to be married by age twenty-six. I think she was a little unconvinced, still.
The yellow roses have bloomed under the kitchen basin.
My mama and I have funky yellow glitter nails.
Just for fun, I took tests to see if I've changed over the past year.
Unfortunately, I haven't.
INFP - "Questor". High capacity for caring. Emotional face to the world. High sense of honor derived from internal values. 4.4% of total population. |
Enneagram Test Results Type 1 | Perfectionism | | 36% | Type 2 | Helpfulness | | 40% | Type 3 | Image Awareness | | 46% | Type 4 | Sensitivity | | 56% | Type 5 | Detachment | | 73% | Type 6 | Anxiety | | 56% | Type 7 | Adventurousness | | 50% | Type 8 | Aggressiveness | | 46% | Type 9 | Calmness | | 56% |
Your main type is 5Your variant is self pres |
Time for some back-dated photographs (:
First up, the escapades of stellar programme "The Thirteenth Hour" (hour... hour... hour...)
Thank you, Gra+Gabby, for all the insanity, the kancheong-ness and the fun in the freezing radio production studios. You guys deserve the A in all its merit (:
On an irrelevant note: Gabby, c'mon! You freakin' spoilt my last picture with Nurul! Hmmph. I shall photoshop you away. Ha!
Anyway, I am in love with Dalet.
That's my recent boyfriend.
We met during Radio.
Oh, Dalet, Dalet.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 12:41 AM
Sunday, January 8
I don't doubt the necessity of breaking down before God.
It's like going home to a listening ear,
a hand that wipes away your tear.
It's like going home to this smile waiting for you
at the kitchen table for two.
It's like going home to a love you know
that won't despise you, but only grow.
It's like finally going home at the end of a very, very long day.
It's been a wild week. An undetermined slither into my new year. Desmond Kon was inspiring, nonetheless. Thumbdrives were definitely evil. Assignment deadlines stretched me taut (I probably have stretch marks now) .
School, drab; self, crap.
Still, I can't thank God enough for granting me a voice and the little musical skills I possess to sing Him love songs. But I want to take all these to a higher level. There's a need to break off. There's a need to take off. All in time to come.
I love looking out of the window on buses. Running past the scenery on wheels forms my daily ruminating process. The only bad part is forgetting to alight and ending up late for my lessons. When I have time, I want to just take 30 from Bedok to Boon Lay. I think that'll be hell of a ride.
Mmm, I found this very interesting show on Channel U. Saturday nights, after Kang Xi Lai Le. It's so cute and amatuerish. The show is set in a Chinese high school, with a class of oddballs, troublemakers and school stars. There are problems the students face, the problems the teachers face and some very intriguing turns in the plot. Ah, the school days I never had.
I realised that something is very wrong. Looks are really deceiving. Emmy the Wormy said I looked like I don't like flowers. I don't like flowers? Oh good Lord! I like flowers! I love flowers! Don't judge me by my cover. I may look kind-hearted and an animal lover but seriously, I hate anything furry other than my bimbotic pen and luxurious feather boas. I look like I eat my greens but ha! I eat more chips than vegetables. So much for looking smart, now that I know looks totally contradict the truth beneath all the skin.
That is not the point, though. The point is to make it known that I love flowers. Emmy has a point: I must tell people then they will know mah. Fine! I like flowers, okay? So when I get married, will everyone please do me a favour and tell my beloved that I really, really like flowers?
Fwah! Channel 8 is showing reruns of Tofu Street (hahahahaha!) starring Cynthia Koh now at 3:05 am! I like that show!
Haiyah. I always want to blog about alot of stuff but by the time I plonk myself in front of the computer, I forget everything. THIS IS FREAKIN' ANNOYING.
Five more weeks to a brand new journey of self-discovery.
I can't wait for school to end.
d e b b e e e kvetched at 12:00 AM