Me, Myself & I

2012-02-12T01:24:00.001+08:00

2012-02-09T21:49:00.000+08:00

nothing to say.

2012-02-01T22:40:00.002+08:00

i just spent more than one hour staring at empty lines and filling them up with words. i wrote 11 paragraphs. which one do you want to hear the most?

sometimes i think that im the only person existing in this word, and the rest is fake. things only exist when i can see them. everything else fades to nothing. like a computer game. theres someone up there, controlling my surroundings, planting seeds of thought into my head, planning my next move. and creating my world. the world isnt round, it doesnt exist. things only materialize when im around. its hard to explain. i feel like the only person existing.

what happens when i die?

2012-01-28T00:41:00.000+08:00

post 467.

sometimes i avoid looking at my reflection because its easier to live in ignorance.

2012-01-26T20:38:00.001+08:00

2012-01-25T21:01:00.001+08:00

Today I saved an ant from drowning.
That still counts as a life right?
No matter how insignificant?

2012-01-23T15:04:00.001+08:00

POST 464?

i had hiccups.

2012-01-20T03:51:00.002+08:00

Its 3:52 am.
And I woke up 20 minutes ago.
typing on my phone.

I slept at 8.
Couldnt be bothered to do anything when I got home.
Now im forced to do homework.
I wish it was 6 am instead.

I woke up and tried to look for my uniform.
walked into my parents rm
my mum asked me
'where are you going?'
and I said, its a friday, there's school.

then I asked what time it was.
3:25 am.

2012-01-17T22:57:00.002+08:00

POST NO.: 462

songli and i had a conversation on facebook chat. i think it helps for everyone and anyone who;s feeling down and suffering from procrastination. like me. so this is what i told him.

and your teacher's expectations
like, my piano teacher just changed, and the new teacher has very high expectations of me so i think about how he doesnt deserve to waste our time and MY money on my crap if i dont get myself together to practice my songs. get what im saying?
not pressure, a source of motivation
THINK POSITIVELY. im serious, that's how i get through things.
my prev teacher used to tell me abt all the crap students he has. and he said that he HATES those jokers who come for lessons each week w/o practicing. waste time. he said: 'but i know you're not like that' to me.
if you cant find your source of mental energy from yourself, at least do a good job for the other people trying to help you.
see what i mean?
hope i helped you ((:
that was MY motivation

reminder to myself, especially.

2012-01-16T20:18:00.003+08:00

POST NO.: 461.

i have exactly 13 minutes to crap out whatever i have to say, or want to say, until i get off the computer. originally i didnt want to mention this, but i actually pushed quite an 'infamous' person into a pool last saturday. now i cant get him out of my head. but this will fade, like it always does.

11 minutes.
yesterday i spent half an hour walking ard after my piano lesson trying to find zx something. then i spent another.. hour or so? experimenting with candle wax. dont ask how it went.

9 minutes.
my piano teacher is no longer teaching anyone at Josephine Koh's Music Studio anymore. i miss him, in a good way. not.. romantically. ew. he has.. spark. personality, attitude, and understanding. My new teacher is Ms Koh's former advancedadvancedadvanced student who happens to be 23 or 24 just like my previous teacher. no offence, but i dont really like him, compared to my prev teacher. he lacks.. lesson planning skills? to me. his fingers are like freakishly long spindly spiders, hopping about on the keys. His sight-reading isnt as amazing as my prev teacher.
but ill give him a try (:

6 minutes.
if i cry in school again in march, im chopping all my hair off. if i ever get the courage.

6 minutes.
max's birthday was last week or so, 11th of jan. i got him candy 3 days later. he said he didnt expect it from me. good or bad? my guess would be good. i have a habit of stealing my brother's (19 yrs old bro) hippo named "sandy" because its heavy, soft, and smells like lavender. From London, you can heat up this hippo in the microwave and hug it to stay warm. hmm.. perhaps ill bring it for night study some day? ((:

4 minutes.
There are a lot of things i originally hated but have now adopted it myself.
i hated writing the letter "I" as one straight line
i hated writing the number 7 with a horizontal line in the middle
i hated fringes
i hated ..
i cant think.
its strange huh?

3 minutes.
i love ms neeta's lessons. so.. productive. if only she'd get the class to debate. i'd like to take on sean.

2 minutes.
cant get him out of my head. maybe its good to hope. it wont last.

2 minutes.
today i told wenqi when we were walking into dunman high for music lessons that you dont realise just HOW IMPORTANT it is to get into a good secondary school and how it will affect your "o"'s until you're sec 4. its just soooo important. of course its your own hard work that counts as well, but the school plays a big part too. why do all the top schools continue to get good results? why do some schools stay at rock bottom? its the desire, the sheer drive, the atmosphere within each environment. you dont realise it until you're in your crucial year. ouch.

-1 minute.
i overshot. damn.

and now you know how much i can type in 13 minutes. and how much crap is in my mind.

2012-01-15T21:35:00.001+08:00

2012-01-15T21:31:00.001+08:00

happy birthday zx (:

2012-01-09T23:57:00.002+08:00

in a dark dark hole. and i cant crawl out.

the sad sad clown.

2012-01-09T23:54:00.003+08:00

POST NO: 457 i think.

constantly on thew lookout for any more errors.
it seems to me that everything i do is wrong. every living second is a nightmare.
like i'm wanted for a crime im going to commit any day now.

Some people relax with TV, some people relax with a book, and some people relax with friends. But when was the last time you rested by truly doing nothing? Sometimes it's necessary to simply be still and breathe.

but it seems wrong to indulge.
everything is jumping up at you so fast, you cant stop.

2012-01-07T22:05:00.001+08:00

uggghhhhh.

2012-01-02T19:22:00.001+08:00

i feel depressed. like theres nothing to look forward to. like everything i do wont benefit, or doesnt matter in the future anyway.
so why?

2011-12-13T23:53:00.001+08:00

POST NO.: 454

feeling a "girly sense of loss"

2011-12-10T00:25:00.002+08:00

7:14 AM sunday december 4th
her father was one of the people she feared in life. Not just feared, but feared in a respected way. Along with many other people she "feared" in life.
They walked together in silence, her father guzzling down the 3rd bottle of yakult. She looked on in horror. She had been raised to only drink a bottle a day. Yet here was this man, the second person of most authority in her life, recently returning from another business trip, defying the very rules of which she followed ever so diligently.
Round another corner, they found what they had been looking for. The smell of food enveloped her senses, and her stomach growled. Just as they sat down, a short, stout woman with thinning hair sauntered over in a bright neon blue uniform, mopping the table in a haphazard fashion. She thrust out 2 worn menus. the girl looked at the pictures, unable to make a decision. Her father piped up,deciding for the both of them. She was glad she didn't have to make a choice. The waitress scribbled down their order and walked away. The awkward pair waited in silence, as the rest of the open restaurant buzzed with activity. Just as she picked up her book, the food was placed on the table. They shared the plate of noodles. Staring at the meagre serving, her father grew suspicious. Surely such a small portion could not be what the waitress had described as "medium" for 7 dollars! The ravenous daughter continued to eat. When the waitress came 'round, he explained the situation. After further inspection and checking with the cashier, it proved to be the wrong size. He was shocked at the service rendered. How could the waitress not know which size the dish was? They ordered another serving. After the meal, he called for the bill. The waitress came over, apologizing halfheartedly. They paid a total of $14. By then, her father was in a .. pissed-off mood, the daughter could feel it. "Yes, yes, everything you say is correct, it's all the customer's fault. " Her father lamented. She wished she could disappear, unable to tear her eyes away from the waitress. The poor lady explained that she had written the correct size on the paper, pushing the blame to the cashier but her father would have none of it. They paid and left. The girl watched the entire exchange in horror, imagining how she would have apologized to the waitress. These things happened, didn't they? Yet she only managed a small bow of the head and a thanks as she collected the takeout, eyes on the "offending" woman. She never looked up hardly acknowledging her presence.
She ran after her father, who said " I don't like these people, unable to render service without attitude..."
She said nothing.

i didnt finish writing.

2011-12-03T23:51:00.002+08:00

POST 452:
my nights are spent tossing, turning.
a fertile land for dreams.
strange ones,
snippets i can barely recall

a land for the unconscious.

anyways, i promised myself that i'd write about this book
before i return it.

imagine a world without love.
a world where even too much laughter is banned.
where the heart is more fragile than you can ever imagine.
where the entire idea of affection is

different.

"They say that the cure for love
will make me happy and safe forever.
And I've always believed them.
Until now.
Now everything has changed.
Now, I'd rather be infected
with love for the tiniest
sliver of a second than
live a hundred years
smothered by a lie"

delerium - lauren oliver

2011-11-30T21:39:00.002+08:00

today was. many things.
but above all, tiring!

went for my 2.9 - 3.0 km run to the end of pasir ris park. shaved off about a minute from my previous timing ((: really, rather exhausting.

met zoe at 1 pm. we went to t1's 'new look' boutique. she was eyeing a tank top and cardigan. i swear, everyone owns those. everyone but me (:
when one is surrounded by walls of glamorous shoes, it really is torturous. all of them were pretty much beyond my budget, not that i intended to buy any at all. but there was this reaaally cute pair of heels.

look at me, im blabbering about girly things. boys, you probably wont be interested.

they were soooo hiiiigh, and very slippery. i took them off. zoe urged me to try on some more. the really nice pair of booties were 79.90. ouch.
we went to zoe's house. pit stop! changed her shoes, raided her closet, and drawers, tried her piano. i swear, her house may be messy, like... reaally messy, but i like it. you could go in there armed with a shoebox, and probably come back out carrying awesome junk stuff. its amazing, what you find when raiding drawers.

went back to tampines mrt, took the train all the way to orchard. by then, it was already around 4 pm. kinda late, oops. we had trouble looking for lucky plaza. my feet began to ache. reaching my 5 hour limit! we got kinda lost, walking in and out, asking several people for directions.

i swear we probably asked people for directions on at least 5 different occasions. lost little girls are we.

it began to rain, which didnt help. ): my shoes were soaked, to bottom of our jeans got wet. we crossed the same road 3 times. zoe found her dress - the one she had been eyeing yesterday - and we left the store. wandering about aimlessly, i began to look for the new h&m store.
im telling you, i love that store. i was probably influenced by bidisha. xD
by the time we had made it, my shoes were sopping wet (heels, no less!) and my feet wanted to die. going barefoot became a reasonable option, though i never did. :x zoe was parched, but she lasted until 2 hours later.
we walked around the store, and i shot down many of her suggestions. she got more and more frustrated with me :P hehe. it was only until the end, when we;d pretty much walked the length of the place, did i start picking up things to try on. they became much more interesting. with zoe's encouragement, i took 6 dresses and a top.

1. tulip dress.
i couldnt stop laughing. it was just.. hilarious. not in a bad way, but .. i cant explain! AHHA. best dress i've ever tried. 60 bucks. christmas present? ((:

then followed by several others. they all looked quite nice really (:
but some were better than others.

i got a(n incredibly plain, to zoe's distaste) dress. we called it the Chanel dress, cuz she claimed it seemed to be the kind of style those chanel models wore. :x
by then, i was apologizing profusely to zoe because she seemed so tired and unenthusiastic. it was 7 pm, past both our curfews. somehow, i felt like her lack of spirit was my fault.

took awhile to find the train. took even longer to get home. i exceded my maximum limit of 5 hours in heels. new record: 7 hours. i reached home at 8 pm . im just glad i practiced the piano beforehand. mummy would have killed me.

((:

most amazing tulip dress, ever. it looks better in reality than in a photograph.

2011-11-27T05:36:00.002+08:00

you stand on the other side of the world.

i cant sleep.
delirium.
AND ITS ALMOST 6 IN THE MORNING.

i guess i shall watch the sun rise.
because if i sleep now, i'll never wake up.
or at least, never wake up on time, anyways.

...

for the past few days, i have been holed up
rotting at home.
feel free to call me up
to go out
and put me out of my misery.
all i do is eat, sleep, and play the piano.
every blends together in a bleary haze.
a palette of kaleidoscopic grey.

i remember someone telling me,
there is never black and white, it is always grey.
meaning that there is always an in-between, i guess.

the hours whizz past when one tries to recall
what precious time was wasted.
apparently for me, all of it,
as i pray for another day to start anew,
to continue in my conquest for self-improvement towards the academics,
to drive myself to insanity.

melodramatic much?

:x

the cycle repeats itself.
and it becomes harder to command my lazy body to move,
to sit in my chair
to take out my books
to read,
to understand

or
to trudge down the marble stairs
to the cold tile floor
to plop myself on the bench-ish stool
to right myself,
straining for my books
to read the notes,
to play, fingers flying,
arm muscles straining against the advanced demands
skill.

my whole body aches.

...

5:47 AM
the start of a new day!

ugh.

2011-11-25T18:50:00.002+08:00

today is day 3 i think. of my master-plan for days 1 -21

again.

day 1 was when i jogged like.. 3 km.
and went to bidisha's house to 'do amaths'
we poured over fashion magazines, hidden by her favourite chem tys book ((:

ZOE COMES BACK TONIGHT :D

day 2, i practiced piano (Y)
and squeezed in some amaths qns.

today is day 3.
i have been a good girl so far.
once i reached home, i spent more than an hour organizing a timeline for the upcoming sec 1 camp and typing up an incredibly long email about it. ((:
hardworking!

hope i can figure out how to do remainder and factor formula qns. :x

...

have you ever been alone at home, like, completely?
i've had rare moments like those.
very rare indeed. when you have 4 other siblings and a housewife mum.
sometimes, when most of my siblings are out,
and its just me and my mum,
i like the think that im an only child.
or when my sis isnt at home,
i like to think that its just me and my brothers. (:

its a strange feeling.

BIDISHA: lets start messing with makeup, i feel ashamed. imma girl and I KNOW NOTHING about it!

the best moment in the house is early in the morning on non-school days.
when the rest of the house is asleep.
this is, odd, the best moment to play the piano.
penetrating the silence.
it doesnt wake anyone up,
though you'd think it would.

me and my siblings are such a competitive bunch.
we're always screaming, scratching, poking, tickling, banging.
there's never a quiet moment.
my mum is always yelling.
sometimes i wish i could escape.c
when we were living in BLK 303 at tampines,
i used to imagine that, behind the poster of a chinese superstar the last tenant left in my closet,
there would be a compartment and i'd open it and crawl down a ladder in the darkness,
open a trapdoor and stumble into a room in the sky.
there would be a large window on the right,
filled with the blue sky
and a single bed on the left.
the whole room as white a heaven
silent.

unlike some people, or a lot of people, i guess,
i dont have family problems.
my parents hardly argue.
my mum just likes to yell a lot.
you know.

she's there, screaming,
and i start thinking..
like. the world is full of people dying, starving
famished,
the life pouring out of them,
or wracked with disease,
eating them away

and here she is,
screaming about how we forgot to put away the dishes.
or close the shoe cabinet
or put away our shoes.

...

i think i may take up singing.
anyone willing to teach me?
my piano teacher says i have a good range
which is rare
and he said its a bit wasted if i dont sing.
hehe.

anyone willing to teach?

2011-11-23T23:19:00.000+08:00

wait i just remembered (: ahaha, i like this picture((:

2011-11-23T23:09:00.003+08:00

POST #447: these are my favourites

2011-11-20T21:19:00.003+08:00

an extract from my bus ride chronicles.
haha, just kidding.
mrs vijay wants us to "write a description of a bus ride.."
or something like that.

so thats what i did, for an hour on the bus.

past the french bistro, the pizzeria, the old brown shoe.

the half-filled, twice as long bus 67, bumps and rolls along Dunearn road, skittering to a stop only when another patron thrusts out an eager hand, indicating for it to stop.

past bougainvillea gardens. its lush greenery, damp from the recent rain that poured over the area a few hours before. it quickly becomes a dull green blur as the bus speeds, the engines purring. before my eyes could take in any sights.

passing by amber lights, damp roads reflecting the traffic light colours. Cruising past landed properties, rare housing estates, unlike the concrete jungle i am more acquainted with at home. Green-striped houses, large windows. my eyes feast on the strange architecture.

the bus slowly fills with people. the windows become foggy as condensation collects. oddly enough, the silence is deafening. surrounded by strangers, we all are. Lost in our own worlds. I continue to stare resolutely out the window.

Raffles Town Council. What a building. Coffee brown, turquoise-tainted windows. Spherical tops, as far as i can see from my vantage point. My mouth forms a disappointing 'O' as the bus jerks forward. Onward we go.

The rain has begun to fall.

Glancing over to my right, a young man holds a small toddler in his lap. Held by miniature chubby paws is an iPhone. The screen shows a multitude of colour. A gold band shines on the young man's right hand. I smile.

I can hardly see the front of the bus, sitting at the other end of this interesting, twice-as-long vehicle. It rolls to a gentle stop. People get off, tapping their transit-link cards.

"Beep, beep"

I shut my eyes.

Glancing skywards, a tall group of condominiums seem to be climbing, towering above. Higher and higher, trying to touch the sky. It goes on forever.

A soft murmur fills the bus. Phones begin to ring, one-sided conversations begin. I am surrounded by an awkward silence.

Newton Flyover. Rounding a bend.

Droplets trickle down the smooth glass, distorting the images. Small rows of shops come to view. A particular building, nearly ruined, catches my attention. Wedged between 2 towering monuments. Water cascades down the glass. I squint .

A tree grows from the pale yellow wrecked shop house. It is like nothing I have ever seen before.

Past Leapfrogs, the speech therapy centre, past a furniture store, past KK Women & Children's hospital, and the pond.

A crane reaches for the heavens, towering above the cordoned-off construction site. A flash of light illuminates the area. Lighting. Rain begins to pour.

The windows no longer give a clear view. Sheets of water constantly pour down, distorting beams of light as they bend towards the windows.

A sharp turn leads us to Serangoon road. A hoard of people alight.

Another flash of lightning.

Looking to my right: Little India Arcade. As the doors open, a cacophony of noise makes its way to my ears . Voices, the pitter-patter of rain, engines running, children laughing. And the smells! Indian delicacies. My stomach growls.

Driving past rows of shop houses, brightly lit up, a contrast to the gloomy grey skies above. Business as usual. Jewelry stores, the ABC shop, boasting the cheapest prices in town, fancy restaurants. A multitude of umbrellas weave through the crowd, bobbing up and down.

Bustling.

Neon lights catch my attention. Green, yellow, red, pink.

Traffic seems lighter, with the rain pouring out of the skies.

People running, papers, boxes, scarves over their heads.

A bright purple gleaming umbrella bobs across the bus stop.

People in all stages of 'soaked' board the bus. With the air conditioning, it begins to feel chilly. I rub my arms with my hands. The old shop houses have always interested me. Pink, blue, taffy-coloured buildings. Short buildings. Elaborate windows. Like candy houses. Pressed. Huddled together. As if the shield one another from the oncoming storm. A blinding white light races across the dull heavens. I brace myself for the - "BOOM", thunder.

Peering through the blurry windows.

A tall machine towers above a half-completed structure. It looks like a child's model of a city building, made out of Popsicle sticks.

Stopping in front of another landmark. It looks horribly grand, with large windows, emitting a warm pale yellow glow of light. A conical front. Fancy.

Whizzing past branches and dark, army green leaves. The hedges become a blur. Looking onwards, I mistake the MRT train for a building. Odd, it doesnt appear to be moving. The bushes fade away, revealing towering train tracks. "Oh," I whisper. Kallang MRT station.

More hustle and bustle as we descend further into more familiar areas of the ever-modern city. I breifly scan the seats around me, looking for anyone who has been on this bus for as loing as i have, so far. I like to play such games with myself sometimes.

Another flash of lightning.

The night descends upon us as we enter the city.

I close my eyes. Listening. The hum of bus engines in the background. The occasional beep of someone exiting the bus. The creaking of the midsection of the dual length bus. Coughing. The patter of rain on the roof. I feel thankful to be dry at the moment.

As the doors open, I catch a whiff of durian. Other fruity scents waft towards my nostrils. I breathe in deeply. We have now entered Geylang. Full of bright lights and activities. Fruit sellers are abundant. The voices travel through the open doors. The wonderful array of colours meet my eyes.

Bobbing further along the road. It gets darker. The bus is slowly emptying. I watch as people come and go.

Cruising along what appears to be "Sims Avenue". I squint through the windows, hand covering the glare of the lights above my head. Trying to catch a glimpse of the outside.

More bright lights , of another shopping centre.

I will never get tired of them.

Now surrounded by HDB flats. What will i encounter next?

Softly singing to myself. I can hardly hear my own voice above the loud hum of the engine.

Past Eunos MRT station.

Staring at my own ghostly reflection in the window. I hardly realise my fingers are freezing.

The lady beside me shuffles in her seat. I look up. Kembangan station. Get off or stay on? I make a hasty decision. "Eeny meeny miny mo... " I get off. Clamoring from my window seat, i hop off the bus.

It's dark outside.

Goodbye 67. I walk into the station.

Another flash of electricity races across the sky.

damn, that took forever to type.

2011-11-20T00:43:00.001+08:00

I drew dinosaurs on my knees.

2011-11-19T14:20:00.003+08:00

POST # 444:

another english exercise, done about 2 weeks ago. i got it back a few days ago.

the topic was :
silence.

His long slender fingers hovered above the ivory keys. Tentatively, his index finger pressed down on the 'middle C'. His eyes detected movement as he looked onwards to the opening of the grand Bösendorfer piano.

Yet, he heard nothing.

Wails of anguish could not satisfy the hollow emptiness he felt inside. he screamed and screamed; wept until there were no more tears to shed as his fingers flew over the keys, over and over again. The same tune, different variations. Just like a choir singing the same song, with a different conductor, another interpretation.

People in the other room - the ballroom - stopped mid-stride to listen. Some dropped their masks. It was a masked ball. Yet there was no masking the man's anguish. There was nothing quite as profound as the inexplicable sound. Emotions churning within every breathing soul in the resounding ballroom. While all he could feel was his own silent world, drowning him, suffocating his very existence, or so it seemed.

Beethoven, They whispered, He has clearly gone mad.

what do you think?

2011-11-18T22:55:00.003+08:00

POST 443:
today is friday.
and i havent done anything all day.
i hardly ate.

i counted my money.
hmmm. i guess you could say im pretty poor.
but it seems like enough for me (:

anyone up for dress shopping?

2011-11-15T00:54:00.002+08:00

POST 442: 12:54 AM 15.11.11
yesterday was Day 1. today is Day 2. I am going to sleep soon.
Yesterday was Day 1 because i finally started studying again!
Ms Chong said it takes 21 days to form a habit,
so i decided to study at least something
for 21 days - straight.
Lets hope i dont fail, like what happened 2 weeks ago.

several things i want to type about.

-the old lady at the bus stop.

or maybe just one thing.

ill elaborate if i even remember.

2011-11-13T22:14:00.002+08:00

An extract from JOURNAL.

<13.11.11> {10:21AM}
I had this dream. There was a pandemic and people were falling sick and dying. Those that were still alive and unaffected were pretending nothing had happened. I was in Borders the bookstore and a lady told me I had to kill Miranda Cosgrove. With the kind of logic that only seems logical in a dream, she told me it was crucial for my survival. I spotted her in the store and we began to throw things at one another. She was pushing a mentally disabled person in a wheelchair and i dont know why I was so afraid of her. I kept missing and when she gave chase, it seemed that i could never run fast enough. It was a terrible dream. I was running, taking anything within reach. Pencil sharpeners, green pens, etc. And throwing. I had horrible aim. When I'd lost her, I left the bookstore in a panic, wondering what to do. Looking over the railing (we were a few levels up, above ground level at a shopping centre) I saw a large pool shaped like a peanut on the ground floor. I jumped, clamoring over the railing. I couldnt get over it fast enough! Hoping I'd fall into the pool, I aimed for the deep end.

I hit the water, unharmed, trying to drown myself, or pretend to. I was hoping Miranda would follow suit. It was difficult. I would hold my breath, then try not to move, yet bubbles came out of my nose, and then I'd have to take a breath at the surface. She had just started to believe I was dead when I broke to the surface.

Something happened, I can't remember. There was a struggle and then we realized. Why had we been trying to kill each other? I had injured her in the struggle. I carried her in my arms and walked over to Cotton On, the clothes store.

We shopped while she slowly lost consciousness in my arms. I met a boy who was my friend, in the dream. Abandoning Miranda on a chair, we peeked behind the storage curtain. Noticing a gap in the wall, I closed my right eye and peered in with my left. It looked like an abandoned lab, with all the machines wrapped up in paper. I quickly looked away. I didnt want to know. Walking further around the shop, I found myself in the guys section. i continued to walk, heading to the front of the store, peering at long, lavish, extravagant evening gowns. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice addressing me. "This looks really nice" in Chinese. It was my mum. She was pointing to a goldish-black dress, made of the kind of material that seemed black, but shone gold in the light. It had a simple V cut at the front and trialed on the floor. Daddy agreed. But I didnt. I was too short. An attendant told us it cost $232. Not the kind of thing you bought in Cotton On. And then we talked and walked, Daddy and I. It was a surprise meeting them here; something I had not expected. I asked him why he was here. He said he had been at the cafe a few shops down and began to tell me how great it looked, being 2 floors high etc.

And then, my dream ended.

2011-11-13T12:12:00.002+08:00

i just wanted to address this post to: Ms Zoe Leong.

Dear Ms Leong,
Thank you for your sincere concern, but I was referring to the concepts of certain ideas, rather than the people associated to them. *insert smiley emoticon here*
Therefore, it is with much thanks that i acknowledge your concerned abrupt phone call to me this morning. From now on, I would like you to address all issues to my secretary, Ms Rai.

Yours Truly,
Ms Chung.

2011-11-11T21:15:00.000+08:00

i learnt something new today.
eremophobia: an abnormal fear of being lonely.

2011-11-11T20:13:00.003+08:00

today i was looking forward to mrs vijay's english lesson
but she was away on course ):

we did the same exercise, except we had 20 minutes to write 100 words.
i came up with roughly 293.

topic: rain.

My eyes welled up with tears. Makeup streaked across my face, tears collecting at my chin. I could hardly control my breathing; lungs gulping the air as if I had nearly drowned. Uncontrollable sobs escaped my throat, between my fingers as they fluttered to my open mouth.

It began to rain. I had grown to love the rain, Clouds forming, blocking out the angry hot sun, quenching the thirsty, aching land. Looking out my only window, I watched as the clouds drew near, drowning out the bright blue sky, wetting the desert.

Perhaps too much of a good thing could be one's downfall. Too much water could drown the living; make dirty secrets float to the surface; uncover things meant to be hidden. In my desolate room, on this barren landscape, I felt like I had been left to die. Lost out here with nowhere to go, clinging onto the faintest shred of hope that Brian might come back soon. He promised he would. But promises were meant to be broken, weren't they? My mind grew as foggy as the window, rivulets of water cascading down the smooth glass surface. A part of me wondered if he had left me here to die alone.

Blue paint, a hundred different shades, several brushes, and a towel. The white room had become many things since he had left me. Depressing blue, bright blue. Sometimes as blinding as the sky above. Sometimes angry, blue streaks cancelling out one another. My favourite was the western wall, where i had painted drops upon drops of blue. A million different shades.

Like the rain.

Breathing in the noxious fumes of my paint, made my thoughts swirl. Yet it made me feel alive. As long as I could feel anything, I knew I was alive. But perhaps too much of a good thing is a bad thing. One day I might just die here. Perhaps that day would come soon.

2011-11-11T01:58:00.002+08:00

lying on my bedroom floor,
wishing the rest of the world was awake

this is an extract from the sms i sent to zoe,
a few hours ago.
before she fell asleep like a pig.
na, im kidding, she's not a pig (:

but i miss him, even though i dont know him at all. im sure ive painted of who i think he is in my mind, and im going to be solely disappointed when i get a real photograph, because the pictures people paint of strangers often dont match the reality of the photographs

you get my crazy analogy?

and then i explained further and she said

"Nidda ruffle their feathers to see their true colours"

ahaha, ruffling feathers.

2011-11-11T01:54:00.001+08:00

In another life,
i would be your girl,
we'd keep all our promises,
be us against the world.

In another life,
i would make you stay,
so i don't have to say you were
the one that got away,
the one that got away.

2011-11-06T21:32:00.001+08:00

just made a deal with joshua wei.

ill probably regret it later.

2011-11-06T20:14:00.003+08:00

today piano lesson was .. interesting.

have you ever been doing something blindly
just completely ... unquestionably
for ten years,

and then have someone ask you

why?

...

i've been practicing piano for ten years now.
and my piano teacher asked me what i like about playing piano.

i said it was boring.
"of course the practicing part is boring lah! who likes reading billions of notes!?
even i find it boring, the more advanced you get, the more notes there are.. but my learning doesnt get any faster, y'know what i mean? "

i nodded.

and then flatly refused to learn "swanee" by george gershwin.

i tried to explain what i felt when i liked playing the piano.
i like the feeling that.. when you really know the song you can just .. play it.
"...
wait, i need a moment to digest that..
what?"

oh well.

2011-11-04T22:08:00.006+08:00

it kinda gets ... bleah.
when you're typing away,
here.
and you know people are reading;
an ex, a secret admirer, an enemy, a good friend..

but they never share how they feel.

so its like a one-way conversation.
and the author is someone you know.

thats me.

...

i always have so much to say,
but in the end, i forget or im too lazy to type.
okay i got one. no, several.
the ideas pour in.

okay, lets start with mrs vijay's finale to the english lesson today.
i loved it (:

the first topic was freedom, and the image of a hamster biting the wires of a cage came to mind:

so i began to write in the hamster's point of view. no longer than 4 lines, mrs vijay said stop.

topic 2: hands (i think)
i wrote about a dance competition, though i didnt get to the hands part.

topic 3: BOYS
this proved to be very interesting. the boys were stunned.
ill just summarize what I WROTE.

gross, disgusting, insensitive beings. males. teenagers. boys. i despised them, and yet, how could i let my mind think this way..? my heart fluttered like the wings of a new butterfly taking flight for the first time. my thoughts engulfed me like darkness, my instincts told me i was falling into the deep dark chasm of...
love.

makes me wonder what the boys wrote about girls. any speculations?

i wanted to discuss something else but i dont think its very appropriate.
hmmm .

2011-11-03T22:45:00.002+08:00

the message i sent to syafiq basically sums up the reasons why im not going to indonesia. and my theory on the situation.

A part of me feels that it was destined to be that way. There were so many factors, like when my dad will get his paycheck, the visa, my passport. Who knows? I might die from some unavoidable accident abroad. I was never meant to go.

2011-11-01T22:08:00.002+08:00

hehehe.
anyone else wanna go, other than my male seniors? afraid my piano teacher might tease me :x

2011-10-30T01:46:00.002+08:00

I cant sleep.

I was just reminded of a thought I had while looking in the mirror
before I took a shower
perhaps if I cut all my hair,
I can start anew.
and stop all my emotions from consuming me like a fiery hell.

2011-10-28T23:31:00.001+08:00

this is what it feels like now.
the whole world crashing down on your shoulders.

no seriously.
my shoulders really ache.
I think its because ive been carrying my bag all day.

2011-10-27T23:35:00.002+08:00

Anyways, I screwed up the oath ):

We, the leaders of Dunman,
Do solemnly make this resolution.
As of today,
We dedicate ourselves to the school,
To serve you,
Pupils, staff and principal
Of Dunman Secondary School
Loyally and diligently,
We will uphold the honour and dignity of this school.

now is that so difficult? :x

2011-10-27T23:26:00.002+08:00

I wanted to post something today, but I didnt get a chance to snatch the conputer.
I was asleep.
and while I was asleep, I managed to skip dinner, miss a call and recieve 7 messages.
so I am resorting to the worst case scenario.
My dear smartphone.

Today it rained cats n dogs.
So the mangrove outing was cancelled
and although I wore stockings
I still got mosquitoe bites :x
during the lesson in the lab
I was asleep :/

after that I went back to class to enpty out my table
took me awile.
I could hardly survive
carrying everything to the bus stop.
I met celeste.

flagged a taxi (:

when I reached home,
my school and shoebag were considerably wet
but everything that mattered managed to stay dry ..
hmm.
I took a shower
and fell asleep on my bed
(at ard 5?)

I woke up in time for 11:11
but I didnt make a wish.

anyways, I wanted to type this:
I thought of an interesting analogy today
I could be a freelance actress, writer or musician today
and could have recieved my official cert to certify me to start my career
and an hour before even recieving it,
i'd already get my first assignment.

mrs oh msged ms cheng that she wanted to pick up me n luis
tmr to parkview primary.
I think.

so I already received my first case (if you want to use the lawyer analogy)
before I was even certified.

im awesome xD

2011-10-21T21:08:00.002+08:00

My thoughts right now are that
im probably going to wear my hair
until its so long that I go
practically bald

and then cut it all off
until theres nothing left.

Exciting isnt it?

exciting for a jessie.

2011-10-21T00:46:00.001+08:00

ive always loved the first paragraph, although ive forgotten what the rest was about.

friday june 3rd 2011

its those mindless times,
when im
in the shower,
Cycling home,
Walking,
playing the piano,
that I lose myself in my thoughts,
and think in a different perspective.
is it just me,
or do you have similar ways to reflect?

maybe its all in my head,
maybe it was just my fault,
my attitude, my feelings,
which made me ammune to the simple reality of
the situation.
I drowned myself in my own bitter feelings,
preferring to blind myself
in my own dreams
Than wake up to reality.

sometimes, we'd all rather be victims than dillusionists.

so I guess ill try to put away
all those bitter feelings
ive harshly aimed at you.
and see if I can face you tmr

as if nothing had ever happened.

(:

2011-10-21T00:33:00.002+08:00

Mary Blair
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Mary Blair (October 21, 1911 – July 26, 1978), born Mary Robinson, was an American artist best remembered today for work done for The Walt Disney Company. Blair produced striking concept art for such films as Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan, Song of the South and Cinderella. Her style also lives on through the character designs for the Disney attraction It's a Small World, the fiesta scene in El Rio del Tiempo in the Mexico pavilion in Epcot's World Showcase, as well as an enormous mosaic inside Disney's Contemporary Resort. Several of her illustrated children's books from the 1950s have never been out of print, such as I Can Fly by Ruth Krauss. Blair was honored as a Disney Legend in 1991, one of the first women to be given the honor.

2011-10-20T00:17:00.000+08:00

but i guess this is even more amusing,isnt it?

2011-10-20T00:02:00.002+08:00

another thing.
i thought id add another thing before i go off. i was at the swimming pool the other day. i didnt swim, but i bought this. i thought it was hilarious.

2011-10-19T23:56:00.000+08:00

anyways, i wanted to add this.

2011-10-19T23:43:00.001+08:00

a few artistic ideas over the last few months. might as well since ive already plugged in my phone.

2011-10-19T23:24:00.004+08:00

i have a lot i wanted to type, but i decided not to bother.
the more the teachers talked to me, the more out of point they got.

and ~~then i was~~ now im confused.

2011-10-19T23:20:00.001+08:00

Jessie Chung
woke up at 7:08 this morning.
Like · · 2 seconds ago

worst mistake of my life.

2011-10-18T23:25:00.001+08:00

I only type certain things when I feel that no one is reading
not that ive visited the stats lately.

I guess you could put it all down to attitude.
zx would always tell me to stop bitching and think in a different perspective,
though not in that exact phrasing.
I think that helps,
but it also makes me feel slightly worse in a way.
I feel weak.

but who cares right?
I lead my life, you lead yours.
we're only troubling each other with pointless abstract concepts.
feelings.
isnt that right?

oh, 11:11
time to make a wish.

he thought I was pushing people away.
if you think that way, I may have been doing that to gain sympathy.
subconsciously.
and when the conscious mind realises just how pathetic that is
your feeling of self-worth tumbles down
along with the last of your crumbling dignity
and nothing really matters anymore right?

I dont know what im saying right now.

I guess what I want to say is,
I just feel like crap
and zx would say thats crap and tell me to quit it.
in a very matter-of-fact manner.
im mentioning him because he seems like the only person who wont sugar-coat things.
who gives the truth to you on a dented metal platter
with no seasoning whatsoever.
or at least to me.

even though sometimes I wish he was far far away on the other end of the planet.
but thats only sometimes.

he's probably going to confront me later.
or maybe not.
heck, ive always never really been sensitive to what I type.
):

what bothers me is,
he has a reserved tone of voice,
harsh quality,
that only seems reserved for me.

2011-10-18T22:58:00.002+08:00

Tell me what's wrong with me.
I continue to cry over the smallest things.

no, its not my results.

making mountains out of molehills.

perhaps I should stop caring.
stop caring about everything.

2011-10-17T23:53:00.001+08:00

Limerence is a term coined c. 1977 by the psychologist Dorothy Tennov to describe an involuntary state of mind which seems to result from a romantic attraction to another person combined with an overwhelming, obsessive need to have one's feelings reciprocated. The concept grew out of Tennov's mid-1960s work, when she interviewed over 500 people on the topic of love, and was first published in her 1979 book Love and Limerence: The Experience of Being in Love.

wiki

oops, i didnt realise its 12 am alr.
no wonder im feeling so sleepy.

2011-10-17T23:48:00.003+08:00

2011-10-17T23:48:00.002+08:00

i think this describes me.

2011-10-17T23:45:00.002+08:00

more photos.

2011-10-17T23:44:00.002+08:00

random interesting photos.

2011-10-17T23:12:00.002+08:00

after exams, the natural reaction is to feel happy,
but if anything, i feel worse

i feel like im all alone
and betrayed.

lately ive been depressed.
they say you can choose to feel happy..
but.

the teachers are all coming to me,
rushing me to do this and that and everything.
and theres more things to worry about like

the new sec 1 councillors
the sec 1 orientation camp
the student council hierarchy
social conflicts
theory exam
dunman inauguration
indonesia trip

and the list goes on.

why so much?

2011-10-11T16:29:00.002+08:00

for some strange reason, ive developed a huge, insatiable appetite.
ill go to the fridge and theres nothing there.
this goes on for about... 5 times.
ill drink milo with 10 spoonfuls of powder..
because its never sweet enough
ill be chowing down on cookies..
and they're gone when i look down.
my stomach is full but my mouth itches..

GAH.

2011-10-11T16:12:00.002+08:00

we walked out of the convenience store,
and you walked in.
i barely had time to react; a muttered hello
but it seemed like the other way round.

why do i keep seeing you all of the sudden?

2011-10-08T12:18:00.002+08:00

IM ALIVE.

i have nothing to type.. :/
yesterday i spent like 5 hours at whitesands macdunalods,
freezing my fingers off
and writing geog.

today im doing emaths.
i think.

and tmr
THERES NO PIANO.
IM SO HAPPY

im so bored.

2011-10-04T21:49:00.000+08:00

POST 406:
LOOK WHAT I CAME ACROSS: http://news.omy.sg/News/Local%2BNews/Story/OMYStory201012070041-205527.html

2011-09-24T22:58:00.005+08:00

POST NO.: 404 - {CAKES}

so whats thie big deal about cakes?
a few weeks ago, mummy found a gold bracelet at the lift lobby.
there was a flyer taped to the noticeboard but she was overseas..

honetly, i dont understand HOW no one noticed the flyer.
i saw it everyday when i came home.

she told our neighbour on the far left of the corridor what she found
but our neighbour said that it didnt matter,
there was no need to return it.

shocking.

she eventually found out who it belonged to and the grandmother bought us a cake.

i havent seen it yet,
but just looking at the red bengawan solo box is enough to make me ponder..

anyways i was wondering

THE HISTORY OF CAKES.
Cake
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

For other uses, see Cake (disambiguation).

Cake is a form of bread or bread-like food. In its modern forms, it is typically a sweet and enriched baked dessert. In its oldest forms, cakes were normally fried breads or cheesecakes, and normally had a disk shape. Determining whether a given food should be classified as bread, cake, or pastry can be difficult.

Although clear examples of the difference between cake and bread are easy to find, the precise classification has always been elusive.[5] For example, banana bread may be properly considered either a quick bread or a cake.
The Greeks invented beer as a leavener, frying fritters in olive oil, and cheesecakes using goat's milk.[6] In ancient Rome, basic bread dough was sometimes enriched with butter, eggs, and honey, which produced a sweet and cake-like baked good.[5] Latin poet Ovid refers to the birthday of him and his brother with party and cake in his first book of exile, Tristia.[7]
Early cakes in England were also essentially bread: the most obvious differences between a "cake" and "bread" were the round, flat shape of the cakes, and the cooking method, which turned cakes over once while cooking, while bread was left upright throughout the baking process.[5]
Sponge cakes, leavened with beaten eggs, originated during the Renaissance, possibly in Spain.[8]

and now im hungry for cakes.

nom.

2011-09-19T20:26:00.000+08:00

7:38 pm
If you were there,

I would have agreed.

2011-09-18T22:47:00.001+08:00

POST NO.: 402

feels like a little girl
who cant measure up to the great world's expectations.

2011-09-15T22:43:00.002+08:00

POST NO: 401

i tried to explain to her.
but the words just sounded stupid.
a lot of things sound ridiculous when you start listing the facts.
and you realize you actually have nothing at all.

zoe said: jessie, so why do you care?

and i thought to myself,

i dont know.

2011-09-14T22:24:00.001+08:00

Suffering from chocolate withdrawl.

GAH.

2011-09-11T06:13:00.002+08:00

A thought from last night:

if you gave me a plushie
big enough to hug

I could pound it
threaten to tear it to pieces

I could hug it
and never let go.

but one thing's for certain

ill never be alone.

2011-09-11T06:01:00.003+08:00

Just spent a minute dazing.
my eyes feel tired, slightly out of focus
and my hands feel all jumbled up.

is it the after-effects of a large mug of coffee?
Perhaps, - I dont usually indulge in caffiene.
or maybe its the combined lack of sleep.
its 6:06 am and ive been awake since yesterday 11am.
weeeeee.

Time to cross the 24 hour barrier.

was studying for music, not sure if its common test or
end of year exam
because the format is sooo much more similar to midyear.

jittery hands.

managed to study most of what's on the list. :x
but I hear we have to know all about classical and baroque as well.
DAMN

anyways, fell in love with some interesting composers and their music.
cant remmeber the name now, peter something, but the symphony is called the socerer's apprentice.
Really funny story - see the vid with disney's fantasia n mickey.
and danse macabre by saint saens. Go to youtube and watch the tim burton's style one.
its just strings and piano instead of the whole orchestra, very entertaining to listen to.

Gosh, im jabbering away like a maniac :x

for the past 2 hours i've been listening to symphony 92.4 (or longer than that)
and trying to complete one practice paper for theory homework.
one paper is 3 hours long and im stuck on qn 3
the DREADED COMPOSITION QN.
The piano is so tempting..
I could just tap out a tune..

but that would be cheating
and not benefitting my self-learning.

GAH.

so what are YOU doing
at 6:16 am on a sunday morning?

2011-09-09T23:53:00.000+08:00

POST 397:
damn, wanted to type a lot of interesting stuff but once i start typing, i take more than an hour.

2011-09-07T10:41:00.001+08:00

OFF TO SATHISS'S HOUSE IN SENGKANG WITH BIDISHA !

2011-09-05T23:26:00.002+08:00

you've barged your way in again.
its always like skating on thin ice.
perhaps its not just the tension, or the easy-blown fuse we both share.

maybe its the cold.
too much warmth could destroy us all.
when i communicate with you
i feel like ive been placed in a freezer.
frozen solid.
a think layer of ice forming a mask

a facade to hide it all.

hide what, i dont know.

...

there are just so many ways
to look at you.

i could hate you,
but ive already gone through that phase.
i could cry over you,
but really, seriously?
theres no point in that.

and then i could stand back,
and truely take a look.
have a breather
from all the emotional cocktails that churn within
i thought: you're just another person,
no diffrent than me.
so why do i still trat you like a monstrosity?
a deamon?

sometimes, i feel like reconnecting.
but the moment we begin,
im constantly put down by something.
the tone,
the way you respond,
your actions.

perhaps im setting up mental barriers for you to cross.
maybe im experiencing disappointment?

i dont think so.

whatever you are, or who you think you are,
hello.

because i dont think i will ever see you again.

perhaps we shall keep it this way .

2011-09-05T14:55:00.002+08:00

drinking milk with condensed sweetened milk.
you know, the sweet stuff that comes in a can?

licking the spoon covered in sweetness.

2011-09-05T00:40:00.003+08:00

my piano teacher's accompaniment, today.

im supposed to play with this while i practice.

he purposely asked me not to film his face.

LOL

- the rustle of spring. CLICK

2011-09-05T00:37:00.000+08:00

GUESS WHAT THIS IS.

2011-09-04T23:21:00.000+08:00

NEIGHBOUR'S DOGGIE XD

his name is kite.

2011-09-04T23:20:00.000+08:00

and shopped and shopped.

2011-09-04T23:19:00.000+08:00

this is pretty much what me n zoe did on friday.

we shopped.

2011-09-04T23:11:00.002+08:00

this is

ZOE'S DRAWING

the amazing thing is that its done completely in PEN.
even i dont have such confidence to do t all in PEN.
and i draw a mean sandwitch, not a pretty person.

:D

btw, it was done in the emaths textbk.

2011-09-04T12:09:00.001+08:00

an extract from my other blog,click here

A few days ago (wednesday)
the sec 4's had their meet the parents session
and me n praveen were in charge.

praveen was initially the IC
and he chose me as the next IC I think.
perhaps he regrets it now
because I was more domineering. :x

I think he was chosen because in the interview for exco/pres candidates
I cited him as an example.
as one of those people who never get chosen for ICs.

Anyways, that day was a very ..
'educational' day for me.
I learnt to adapt like when we had very few people
(i thought it was enough though)
and we got everyone to quiet down and assigned new roles to different people.

I think praveen was angry at me because I wouldnt listen to him
he wanted to plan and write down all the names
I thoguth that was too slow
so I just pointed to people and directed them to their places.

i leant that im an action girl.
praveen prefers to plan.
Then he got all quiet and wasnt all smiley like he normally would have been
Which indicates that he's not very happy,
most probably with me.

then instead of going with his plan of who was in charge of which area,
I just didnt follow it, and just wandered wherever he wasnt.
I thought it'd be better to just see the situation.
if he was there then id go somewhere else
to check up on the others.

then he started giving people breaks at the beginning of the shift.
I didnt think it was necessary
but I knew why he was doing it.
I envisioned a break-time timetable.
each person was alloted a slot so later there would be no jam.

but was it really necessary?
breaks were when people got tired and hungry.

our relationship towards each other was falling into a deep dark pit.
he made people eat outside in the dark canteen and I shooed them back in.
He wanted to keep the council room clean (because we had just mopped it up earlier that day) when I found them eating outside an eyesore.
he swapped some of the usherers because they were complaining about their duties when I had put them there.
we definately had a communication bloop.

several takeaways from that day:
1. I realised my 'style' of doing things (finally undetstands what kaitjoon was talking about when he said his style was...)
2. I learned that two ICs have to be able to work together veeeery well. And discuss often.
3. To be more sensitive.

2011-09-04T11:18:00.002+08:00

End of the 8-day survival period.
It began last week, thursday.

the food was stuffed in the fridge,
a hundred dollars of emergency cash stashed in the small tin.
chores written down - scrawled on a blank paper.
emergency numbers tacked to the fridge door.

fleeting goodbyes,
and then..

no adults.

after the first few days
(without incident)
we fell into a usual routine.
my sister was bullied into mopping the floor
and every night when all the others were asleep, I dealt with the dishes
and the kitchen sink.

the boys were like horrible zombies.
all they did was sit at the computer all day long
for hours at a time.

It was either that or the television.

tv sucked us dry.

...

I went out a lot
with zoe ((:
we shopped after zx left.
and I got shoes.

weeee~

then the last day came.
the last day of our sheer independance.

the electricity was cut.

no tv, no computer.

no telephone.

no help.

my sister cleaned the house before it got dark and I brought max and sophis out for lunch.
my brother went out for school.
and I left the house too.

When I got back, the place was shrouded in candles (if that's the right word)
and they were all gathered around the main table,
lighting candles.
ming-xuan was back.

I brought home dinner but max had gohne with the neighbours to buy food.

apparently my sister had gone to them for help because her phone had run out of juice

no one seemed embarrassed that we didnt have electricity for the time being.

I assumed my mother had forgotten to pay before she left.

we stayed at their house and max n I played with their pet dog.
ming used the piano.
until mummy came back.

the next morning it was bright again.
I left for bio class
and when I came back, all the bills were settled and
the electricity was back on.

interesting finale to the eight-day survival course.

2011-09-02T00:38:00.002+08:00

okay, i have a weird way of thinking.
if i read a book for a prelonged period of time,
my mind tends to adopt the tone of the narrator
or the person i've been intearcting with for several hours,
like zoe and bidisha today when we "camped" at her house for the rest of the afternoon.

i didnt know walking into doors was heriditary. okay, i didnt mean that (:

im gettting distracted. kays, will now ignore the irritation on msn right now..

kay so as i was saying,
my mind seems to take up the tone of the narrator or other people.

in this case, its the barely-concealed hint of irritance
yea, like as if IM SO GROWN-UP.
ive completely lost my initial tone.

i give up on this topic.
to be continued.
dont feel like sleeping now.

oh right,
sometimes i think zhi xiang is the only person who can give the most honest opinion.
sure reality is harsh, but deep down,
i appreciate it.
i think . perhaps, you know me better than i know myself.

but you probably don't think so.

hmm.

2011-09-02T00:35:00.002+08:00

Jason: I've stopped trying to understand you. A long time ago. ahhh w/e

anyways had a lot to type.
BUT I FORGOT EVERYTHING/
SEE JASON YOU BLOODY ANNOYING

2011-08-26T22:49:00.001+08:00

TUESDAY, AUGUST 02, 2005

FIVE THINGS TO DO ON YOUR BIRTHDAY

Originally uploaded by dancityofsound.
1. Buy someone else a present, preferably the person who makes you most happy to be alive.

2. Eat cake if you're under 18 or over 75.
If you're in between, these are your years of discipline and clarity. Look at that pretty mass of sludge and goo for what it is.

3. Ask yourself where you came from and where you're going. If the answer is, "I don't know," spoken with marvel and wonder, you're on the right track.

4. Thank your mother. Chances are the occasion you're celebrating was a pretty arduous day for her.

5. Be a child. Hang balloons outside your door. Announce to random strangers that it's your birthday. Okay, even eat the artery clogging, blood sugar elevating, thigh thickening cake if you have to. And if there aren't any random strangers around, announce it on your blog: Hey, it's my birthday! Aren't I cool?

2011-08-26T22:43:00.003+08:00

hi jason.
i truely dont understand why you dont want me to leave.
i mean, its hard enogh to convince my parents to let me leave.
i wat to go home, get settled and feel normal.
i want to experince the last 2 years of high school.

why give up now?

and what hope cold you possibly have?
after all this time..
of ignoring me, arguing, boasting.
and showing off.

you're not here anymore.
cant you see that?
and im not here, for you.

i really dont understand.

2011-08-18T23:05:00.001+08:00

I cried today.

2011-08-17T23:29:00.001+08:00

omgosh its 11:30 now and im not tired. AT ALL. feels like typing a story.

but it'd be too obvious if i wrote a part of

our story.

2011-08-17T23:01:00.000+08:00

the whole story

My name is Nora, Nora Kinsley. And this is my story.
They say that when you are about to die, the last few seconds of your life seem to stretch out in long minutes as your brain flashes back, to those happy young memories of childhood, and progresses up to the moment you die. At least, that is what the media seems to portray. Yet how do you know if this is absolutely true? How would you envision your state of mind at the very last few seconds, when you are certain you are going to die?

I nearly died.

No, I did not try to commit suicide; I did not try to poison myself with a lethal overdose. It was a car accident. An accident that began with something most people would believe impossible. When the car hit me all I could see was his face, etched deeply in wrinkles, lines that could tell a lifetime of stories. Some connected to the watch.

I had just left the piano studio, feeling lower than usual. My music teacher had scolded me, in front of all the other students, because I had not completed my assigned work for the week. Maybe she was in a rather bad mood; we had all heard her screaming into the phone just as soon as she left the classroom halfway into the lesson. I guess I had it coming. Walking down the steps of the old apartment building, I sighed heavily. Her words still rang in my head.
“If you can’t even do something as simple as an assignment that was given to you a week ago, how will you survive in the working world, when you grow up? How will you amount to anything? That goes for everyone in this class as well.” She rasped. Her voice seemed to be losing its edge.
A small mew met my ears. I had not realised I was sulking on the steps of the apartment. Looking up, I saw the stray cat in the neighbourhood, giving me a peculiar look, standing in front of a small watch. As I approached, the cat took the watch in its mouth and ran. Curiosity got the better of me and I followed.
The cat slowed to a walking pace, but remained out of reach. Wondering what a cat would do with a watch, I did not let the creature out of my sight. I walked in a daze, lost in thought, my mind on autopilot. My music lesson had ended in the evening when the sun was setting, but by the time I realised I was hopelessly lost, the sun had set and the moon was hanging in the sky, a small luminous crescent. I peered at the small screen of my cell phone. It was late. The cat walked up to me, and I looked around. I was in a dark, damp alley. Alone. I was in another part of the city being foreign, unfamiliar to me. Just then, my ears were assaulted by the harsh sudden whining of a passing police car. A puddle splashed at my feet as the vehicle whizzed past. I jumped in surprise, and the cat ran off, frightened, into the drain, leaving behind the watch.
Cautiously, I picked it up with my thumb and forefinger. I squinted, trying to get a good look at it. Something overwhelmed me, and I had the immense feeling to put it on. There was only one hole in the strap for the buckle to go through, and it fit me perfectly. I was rather disturbed by the strap. Why did it have only a single hole? It was as if someone had made the watch just for me. A shiver ran down my spine. Yet the idea seemed a little too absurd for my brain to take it seriously. I shrugged it off as a coincidence, and admired the object strapped securely to my slender wrist. It was a classic model, with small white arms and tiny metal bars to replace numbers on the dark face of the watch. Its leathery strap felt just right on my wrist. There was a single dial on the right side of the watch, to adjust the time, I supposed. I pulled it.
And that is when it all happened.

I tried to turn the dial, yet the arms of the watch would not move. I stopped. Something felt out of place. The sudden bustle and hustle of the city that I had grown so accustomed to seemed to fade away. I stepped out of the dank alley. The first thing that hit me was the fact that the road was full of cars yet nothing was moving. I whipped my head to the other side, hoping for a logical explanation. The silence was deafening. I walked off to the pedestrian pavement and I spotted an evening jogger, paused in mid-step, sweat droplets suspended in the air. The traffic around the city was frozen. Everything was paused, as if someone had pressed a button...
Suddenly aware of a ticking sound, I pressed the dial on the watch

And once again, I was greeted with the honking of horns, the screaming of teenagers joking around, the wailing of sirens, chatter of restaurant patrons. I was completely taken aback. For a second, my eyes were locked onto the familiar glistening eyes of a feline, its head cocked to one side, staring inquisitively at me. The jogger I was examining earlier knocked into me and we both sprawled onto the ground. By the time we were back on our feet, the cat had disappeared into the night, and my palms were grazed, but I hardly noticed.
“I am terribly sorry, I didn’t see you there! Here, let me get you some help for your hands. They’re bleeding!” The pain was like a dull wake-up call. I stared transfixed at the spot where I was certain I had seen the cat. A dull throbbing pain brought me back to reality, and soon enough, my hands felt like they were burning. The female jogger brought me to a nearby drug store for treatment, though I had politely declined multiple times. She claimed that it was her fault for not watching her step and had run into me, though I had no explanation for her, for how I had seemingly materialised onto the path, out of thin air.
While the store clerk and pharmacist dabbed antibacterial solution on my flesh wounds, I winced. As soon as I began to mull over what had just happened, I had completely forgotten about my hands being treated. I was lost in deep contemplation. What had just happened? No, it could not have been possible, could it? But if it was not, then I could not have walked into the jogger’s way when everything... stopped.
It must be possible.
The watch stopped time.

“Ouch!” I winced. I heard a mumbled apology from the clerk as he gently wrapped up my wounds. The female jogger paid for the service as if it was her injury. I was so stunned at her sudden kindness and generosity. Most people would not have bothered. I had intended to pay for it all myself, but I realised I was not carrying enough cash. Thanking her profusely, I walked out of the drug store, to the nearest bus stop. As my finger traced the different routes on the bus directory, a certain feeling of absolute fear crept up on me, growing with every second, as confusing thoughts conflicted in my head. If the watch could stop time for the wearer, then what timing was being used, no, how fast was time flowing compared to this, compared to now? Did I enter a sub-reality, a different realm that exists as we do, but much slower, so slow that our time seemed to stop? Was there something out there, other than just me? Can time even stop at all? Time simply is. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, are just forms of categorisation. The theory of time was too abstract for me. My head began to throb with an ache at my temples. Perhaps it was the headband I was wearing. I slipped it off.

At my dorm room, I was suddenly reminded of the long essay I had to type up for my teacher the next day. Panic slipped its way into my thoughts and I rushed to my laptop, completely forgetting about the mysterious watch on my left wrist. I attacked the keyboard, fingers flying. Occasionally, my palms smarted from my fall earlier, but I dismissed it. I had a deadline to adhere to. At one point I must have accidentally pulled the dial of the watch because in the next moment, I had just awoken, flexing my arms, lifting my head off the table. Had I just pulled an all-nighter to complete my assignment? I drew back the curtains in my room, only to see that the sky was pitch-black. I reached for my alarm clock, noticing that the second hand was not moving at all. I opened the door, looking into the hallway. As usual, several girls were walking out of the showers down the hall, well, they seemed to be. My eyes detected no movement. The watch appeared to be counting the time I spent in this state. It read ten minutes to five. Pressing the dial, my eyes followed the hands spinning back to the original time. It was eleven fifteen.
Perhaps the watch was not something to be feared. Perhaps it was a blessing. Time never seemed enough for me anyways. Perhaps there are more than twenty-four hours in a day, at least for me. Going back in my room, I wrapped up my essay, suddenly in no mood for my assignment. Lying on my bed, I imagined all the possibilities of this “stopping time” theory.

The next day, I approached my physics professor with all my ideas but all I had gotten from her was a long lecture on the relativity of time itself. Never one to keep my attention on long sermons, I was well into my own thoughts. Thanking her quickly, I headed to my next class.

Days passed, so slowly to me. While everyone was preparing for the upcoming exams, I paled in comparison to their anxieties and urgency. I had all the time in the world to catch up, and as expected, I did use the watch generously to help in my studies. Lesson time was simply revision for me and when I was not using it, the rest of my time was for assignments. Yes, I had tried to set rules, but I was always breeching them. Soon enough, I had forgotten about my own limits. I guess it was for my own good when I had used it one too many times and there was a sudden frighteningly bright white light, blocking out my vision...

In a split second, I was there, in a completely white void.
I was not alone.
In front of me was a man sitting with his back facing me, tinkering with some odd trinkets, muttering to himself. He had a shock of white hair on his head, standing upright at a near impossible position. He was seated at a dark mahogany desk with an ancient green lamp. Seeing no one else, hearing nothing else, I walk unsteadily towards him, with no one else to turn to, still feeling a little dizzy and nauseous. What had just happened?
Where was I?
I tapped his shoulder. Seemingly having the shock of his life, apparently having seen no one else but himself for years, I immediately back off. He must have been driven to absolute madness at one point. Yet there appeared to be a glimmer of sanity in his bright green eyes as he turned around.
Our eyes met; a young woman and a feeble eccentric man.
I felt as if I had known him my whole life.
“So it is real...” He whispers, gently touching my cheek. Collecting his wits, and apologising for his behaviour, we introduced each other in a civilised manner. My initial fear slowly ebbed away. I explained my predicament and he told me his story. He claims to be the inventor of the watch, and summoned me here, but I believe in karma. I must have overworked the mechanism.
“This is my watch,” he gestures to the one on my wrist. It is slowly fading away, and I am appalled. He pays no attention to the current development and moves on.
“I’ve been here for... so long. All I remember is that the day I arrived here was December 13th, 1910.” I took in a breath. Had I been born a century earlier, it would have been my birthday.
“Having, perhaps you could say, infinity to calculate and experiment, I came up with a theory, and tested it out. I’ve failed and tried... and now, finally, the watch has chosen someone, and I was able to bring you here.” He explained in an ancient voice. The man says that the only trinket he had with him other than the watch was a locket. I steal a glance at it, the copper-coloured heart shimmers, almost faintly.
“After all this time, I’ve finally perfected, to a degree, something that can quite possibly, well, bring a human being back to reality.” A humble tone takes the slight edge off his voice. The locket was his daughter’s, who had died in an outbreak of a terrible disease. He invented the watch to bring him back in time and save her, but obviously, something had gone wrong.

I did not know what to say.

“You look so much like her...” His hand rose, and he caught himself.
“Here, have it, and go home.” The man took on a quiet, hard quality, as if he forced himself to say them. “You still have your whole life ahead of you.” He seemed to be dazing at something, as if I were invisible. Tears formed in his intelligent eyes, and I found myself crying silently as well.
He must have been imagining his daughter.

I glanced at the watch. It was so faint, nearly disappearing altogether. Following my gaze, he snapped out of his reverie. Urging me to go before it faded away completely, and re-appeared at the place I first picked up the watch, he swipes the modified locket off the desk and instructs me to open it, claiming that it would take me to the place where I first began using it, yet the time would have been when I left the reality and came here. Looking at the mask of hesitation and anxiety on my face, he confirms my fears, saying that it had never been tested, of course, but it was my only hope of ever getting back. Trusting a stranger’s words, I let him put his arms around my neck, closing the clasp. The locket hung on my neck. As the watch faded from my wrist completely, I stared into the deep void of his eyes. His wrinkled face could have told his life story. “There’s no time!” He suddenly exclaimed, “Once it vanishes, you remain here forever!” Opening the locket with his bony fingers, all I could do was say a silent goodbye.

The last thing I saw was his face, an indescribable expression. A picture speaks a thousand words. He began to tell me something but a blinding light forced me to close my eyes. Just like that, I left.

And re-appeared in the middle of the street, in the part of the city where the cat had led me in the beginning. The next thing I knew, I was staring into the headlights of oncoming traffic, dazed at the sudden change of surroundings. Then the car crashed into me. I remember looking at the sky, turning red, and the wave of immense pain assaulting my mind. All I could see as the redness engulfed my vision was his charming face, the man that brought me back. Everything went black.

I came to, feeling a dull throb in the head. Trying to get up, the throbbing grew, and I abandoned my attempts. My vision cleared and what greeted my eyes were the off-white surroundings of a dreary hospital. I heard the typical sounds of beeping machinery and hospital staff, hushed whispers and moans. It was very depressing. A nurse came to my side and informed the doctor of my progress. That was the moment I noticed various needles in my limbs. My left arm was in a cast. Feeling my head, there appeared to be a bandage wrapped around my head as well. The doctor arrived, shining a harsh light in my eyes. I winced. After a whispered conversation, my parents came to my bedside. I temporarily lost the ability to speak. My tongue felt numb. Both my parents were overwhelmed, speaking simultaneously.

“Nora! We were so worried – “
“Six stitches – “
“You’ve been in a coma for five days!”

The memories flooded my mind as they continued to chatter. I remember someone’s face... so vivid yet so foreign. And the cars, the red sky – it must have been my blood.
Suddenly it hit me.

The watch.

Maybe it was just a dream. No one would believe me. I could hardly believe myself. Letting my parents fuss around me, all I could do was smile at them. It would take a while to get used to my condition. I thought to myself, it was all just a dream, not real...

Soon enough, all was forgotten. But the fact that I appeared in the street remains a mystery. If it was impossible, then how did I end up there? I refused to contemplate further. I was in self denial. On the day I was discharged from the hospital, I was collecting my personal belongings when something caught my eye.

The locket.

2011-08-15T21:44:00.003+08:00

POST: #377
{title: Competition}

well if alan can come up with poster number 2 and put it up all over school,
i dont see why i cant step up the plate
and match his competition.

Used a powerpoint slide from my speech presentation as a poster.
it seems very interesting to me.
just hope the library is open tomorrow.
or perhaps i can get people to help print a few copies.
kinda rushed.

going to make fliers too,
provided if i have the time. :x
need to get my budget money from ms cheng..

yay,fb is working again! (:
wasnt working before. :x

and now to send edited slides and speech to mr fadhly.

hmm..

today, zoe wrote "jessie is STUPID" in orange on my arm.
and i wrote "i have a sock-eating monster in my shoe, hence i have an excuse to not wear socks" with my new black marker on her arm.
it wa alright because my message was long and she drew arrows all pointing to the word: STUPID.

2011-08-13T14:38:00.002+08:00

its raining.
the breeze blows through my open window.
the light rain falls through the air,
the thunder rumbles softly.

mmm.

2011-08-13T13:34:00.002+08:00

trying to do homework,
trying to forget about the undone music theory homework,
that i have to finish because my lesson is on sunday.

i had a strange dream.
my sister and i were all alone
and in this neighbourhood with a family that had 2 girls
they just moved in.
we were like homeless people,
sneaking into their house,
hiding in between furniture..
actually, we WERE homeless people.
until we got caught by the father .
then we ran,
into the dark dark night.

i cant quite describe it.

then there was another part.
the sky was overcast.
it was grey.
and we were driving to someplace.
imagine, me, 14, in the backseat
and my sister, 13, driving.
i cant remember where we were headed.
but i remember the fear of getting caught,
driving underaged with no licence.
we got out in front of an overhead bridge and started walking.
we met those kids from indonesia that came to dunman last year.
i was one of their buddies. met the other people who had been their buddies too,
like zoe, eugene, praveen...
they were all walking in a group, just students
to somewhere.
then we continued driving.
vaguely remembered max driving too.
i was the only one who couldnt drive.
we were driving to somewhere,
escaping.

strange dream.

then there was another part where i was walking from my house to the bus stop.
i saw a lot of cats.
one caught my attention.
it was white and black, with black ears and a black patch on his forehead.
i remember thinking - that cat's name is peter.
i have no idea how i came to that conclusion.
then i crossed the street in the carpark to the town park in pasir ris
and i saw this malay lady feeding two cats.
the cat i thought of as peter was walking towards them.
she called out 'come on peter, the food is almost gone!'
or something like that.

odd.

2011-08-11T20:06:00.002+08:00

edited my other blog.
the skin i looked so hard and long for, and so painstakingly edited to get it to work,
had to be stripped clean.
surrendered my other blog to BLOGGER.

took forever to choose the template and settle the gadgets.

which is why i prefer pencils, pens, notebooks and paper.
things i can get my grubby little hands on.
things i can shove in my face, or well, other people's faces ^^

a bit moody today.
mysterious sticky-note messenger sent another message.
the taped note to my desk (by me)
was stripped away
and under my table, someone had dug out the photo of me (previously buried underneath all the academic crap) originally at the back of the class (before sean changed all the photos) and stuck a aticky note along with my taped scrap paper, saying "I'm afraid of the answer if i told you"
written in the same black permanent ink and, annoyingly, never signed off.
the messages are usually abrupt, with not much of a link to work with.

the desperation seeps through,
as the need to know engulfs me like a warm flame,
nearly enough to wish i had a database system and fingerprint scanner.

i have 2 possible suspects.
suspect 1 and
suspect 2.
theres a speculation of suspect 3
but suspect 3 is my friend, and my most trusted friend at that.
call my opinion biased, but it couldnt be suspect 3.

it just cant.

and suspect 2 was with me the entire day that time another note came (previously)

so perhaps suspect 1 is the culprit.
i know suspect 1 has yellow plain sticky notes,
but why that person?
the original sticky note messages is enough to make anyone wonder.
*shivers*
only that person would know of the photo, i think.

i have no idea.

:x

2011-08-10T23:12:00.001+08:00

i did it.

i did it.
i finished my chemistry workbook homework.

i did it,
i finished my homework.

i did it,
i pained my brother's toenails
a
deep
purple.

when he was asleep.

2011-08-10T05:00:00.003+08:00

forgot.
my brother left the laptop on
with his fb acct logged in.
i couldnt help it,
i unblocked myself from his acct and befriended myself.

yay.

he's 18 now, dont mess with him.

Jessie Chung Ming-Xuan Chung
happy bday my dearest emo brother who sleeps like a pig (: tmr you shall wake up with purple toes and be given a fattening birthday present (: this time, i mean it, the toes ((:
no need to thank me~

perhaps i should go and do it now.

2011-08-10T04:55:00.002+08:00

ITS 4:55 AM AND IM HUNGRY.

i feel like zhi xiang, the ever ravenous goat.

kinda tired, but dont feel like crawling into bed.
what if i CANT sleep?
feels slightly hyped-up despite the time and heavy eyelids,
because i just completed draft no.1 for speech and ppt

for elections.

really passionate, rather excited.
Of course there's gonna be changes, draft 2 will definitely come,
but that can come later.
wonders how alan, natalie, wei cong and beryl are doing.
wonders what last year's candidates did and said.
i forgot. It didnt make much of an impact on me.

but i still remember nazurah saying that voting for her is voting for more fun activities (:
perhaps i should tweak the direction of my speech.
it seems rather wayward now.

kinda feel like doing the comprehension hw..
hmm.

2011-08-07T12:44:00.002+08:00

The night before yesterday, I couldnt sleepp.
woke up on an hourly basis.
trying to memorise:

Thank you Chong Zheng primary school. The next presentation is the team from Dunman secondary school, champions in the secondary section life sciences and environmental science category. The title of their project is, 'Phytoalexins, our friendly 'foe'.'

kinda missing those times.

2011-08-07T08:11:00.003+08:00

Yesterday as an emcee,
my eyes darting back and forth,
not knowing where to look.

Yesterday as an emcee,
my feet going numb
as I stood on our custom-made stand.

Yesterday as an emcee,
tripping over words.

My most amazing sentence of all time:
Hai Sing Catholic School...
their study on
cytotoxicity of favanoid mammalian cells.
(cyto-tox-ci-ci-ty of flava-noid mam-mil-lian cells)
or something like that.

the awkwardness of having to smile continuously
of having to sound cheerful
while keeping that documentary narrator voice.

the stress of reading the wrong box.
the stress of not quite knowing the attendance for the prize-giving.
the stress of last minute changes

And the suspision when adults tell you
you did great.

because by default, they always say that.

the fear that you're watching me
as the lights shine my way

laughing.