A good laugh cannot do the trick.

via http://learnsomethingeveryday.co.uk/



Moments:
- Heart-wrenching cough
- Stacks of notes piled high
- Unfinished business with relationships and conflicts
- Friend confused
- Men in question
- Detachment from communal living
- Non-responsive (best) friends
- Focus splitting
- Our ability to be oblivious
- An obstacle
- Horoscope
- I feel threatened


Question of the day:
How do men go about with reconciliation?
What steps do they take?


In effort to try and understand reconciliation for a friend.

Paths.

I told myself this is goodbye and yet, my unconscious self pins for you.
Night after night I see her in the dark,
lingering and hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

I don't have the heart to tell her that I've seen you,
and I made the decision she would never have - I walked away.

It's not wrong to want love.
But I find it rather puzzling she had to choose you of all the specimens.
Why you? When you are so destructive and virtual.
What did the unconscious self pick you over everyone else?

Just so you know, I'm going back to my boulder.
He keeps me safe and secure.
He makes me smile more than you do.
My heart doesn't quite beat as ferociously when I'm with him,
but it's a comfortable rhythm that I'd rather keep up with.

She can continue to carry the torch for you, for even if you let her fall, I'll be her safety net and her beacon of light.

away it goes.

Post-Com223.
It feels as if the wind swept a macbook into my face.
Now my head's smashed and broken just like the macbook that slammed into my face.



...


Everyone deserves someone else, someone good for them,
to feed their soul, their ego,
to fill up their love tanks.
A matter of self-validation
I'm always glad to find someone who found theirs.
I might not verbally say so, but I feel genuinely happy for you.


...


I haven been on my best behaviour lately.
I'm ashamed of what I've done, even plagued with guilt - for what I feel.
Oh well, we cannot always be little angels now, can't we?
It's okay to be greedy, to want and desire,
and to be filled with angst and hate when we are deprived.
It's ok, isnt it?

The internet is a relational wasteland.

I want to disappear like how you do it.
Yes, blogging will still be essential, it keeps my sane.
But facebook, tumblr Nah.
Also, I don't wanna tweet for sometime definitely, I am getting on my own nerves.

The idea is to spare myself the misery of lingering in cyberspace, a relational wasteland.
My rubbish emotions adds on to this wasteland.

What I want is to be needed. What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Somebody addicted to me. A mutual addiction. But that was not you.


So as I take a step forward into this new year, which I think will officially start with the end of exams, and the start of my internship - I bid you farewell.


The only problem is, how will Mr Floppy find me?
Perhaps he will be too absorbed in his trip to Turkey! With that solved, I believe I'm heading the right direction.


//


My hall neighbour Cindy is someone I really envy.
She lives her life in reality, a place I have almost disappeared from.
Facebook, msn, tumblr- nah - she casts it all aside and lives with her trusty phone.
Where only those who truly matters will seek her.
For truly worthy matters.

Leap of faith.

My best friend will give this love of hers a shot.
She will fly to Shanghai and attempt to reignite this relationship that almost happened couple of years ago.
I wish you nothing but the best, I would do the exact same if I were you.

serenade him with your stories,
don't panic when you see him,
man bond over shared activities - let him take you ice-skating perhaps HAHA
let love shine in all honestly,
and yet keep him hanging for just a little bit.
let him know you're a little bit in love with him,
despite the fact that this big leap of faith,
already shows so much.


Be brave young one.

The quiet things that no one knows.

"Maybe a happy ending doesn’t include a guy, maybe… it’s you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. Maybe the happy ending is… just… moving on. Or maybe the happy ending is this, knowing after all the un-returned phone calls, broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment you never gave up hope."


He’s Just Not That Into You



The idea is that I never gave up hope.
For a moment I let myself slip and fall into some kind of depression, but they don't last, not longer than 12 hours a stretch (excluding the time I spent sleeping). I don't take my heartbreak to sleep, I cast it aside, and wake up glorious and ready to embrace it in all positivity.

Maybe it has always been about me more than it was about you.


You laugh and say I sleep early, but what you did't know is that sleep is the very way (and only way) I can run away from thoughts of you. Even then, sometimes you find me in my dreams, well, I call them nightmares. Yeah, but I deal with them, many times now. Watch me.

And despite all this misery, this wrong assumptions, I never gave up hope. Naive, plain-dumb or stubborn, I cannot decide really.







oh yeah, and I know. You're afraid of me, afraid of being seen with me, I don't know exactly, But i get that vibe, I know.

The Hurt

The hurt is in the act of possession: we are too small in mind and body to possess another person without pride or to be possessed without humiliation.

- The Quiet American by Graham Greene


.


Thank you for taking "Essays in Love" away from me. It would like ignited a spark that did not exist, it would have distracted me further. It would have put my restless soul to sleep in heartbreak nation, where I will dwell in an eternity of pain. It would have, it could have.

Resistance

A floral tea party for a friend at the much-missed Holland Village.
Dinner with the editor at an obscure part of Singapore.
Moments with Mr Wind-up bird.
Understanding interpersonal relationships.

I need to know.

What was running through your head in that few minutes of aqueous oblivion.
Those thoughts are very precious to me. I really want them.

Put them in a jar and stuff it in my mailbox.
Write them down, and slip them under my door.
just, don't deprive me of those thoughts, because I really need to know.

Were you thinking of it as some form of reconciliation?
Not in a highly emotional way,
rather on a social level.

(this is an edited version of a really long post. Somehow I just felt that disclosure has been pretty "fruitless" for me, so I'm keeping it in. I have to remind myself, I prefer Face-to-Face communication anyways. So talk to me. I will likely share over a cup of coffee.)

//


Today is fantastic for a few reasons.
One paper down, three more to go. Finding my Lotus caramel biscuits in the fantastic 24-hour NTUC. Chai Tea Latte from Starbucks. Moon gazing. Productive, very productive study session with my fellow Tong. Three cheers to newfound friendship.

Take my fearless heart.

Dude you have nothing to lose and everything to gain.
You can take my ego, take my pride and my sanity - I have everything to lose but I'm fearless.
Find me in my moments alone, my moments occupied, find me.
I will give you everything, and then you might be fearless.
For my fearless heart will reside in you as I lie empty.
When I lie empty, again, I have nothing to fear and nothing to lose.

What makes you fearless?
What makes you weak?
and what makes you talk?

Take my fearless heart, you will find your answer.

Senseless.

Humour, most of the time, is anger with its make-up on.
And this morning, boy, did I have my thickest make-up on.

Grand Master of Silence.

Go to a major chain bookstore, and leave notes to future readers in copies of your favorite books. - another distraction to add to my list.

I have decided to be less obsessed with CMC and generally the internet.
Blogging and twittering is still high on my list, and gmail chat is a daily routine. But I figured that I would rather be distracted by the idea of scrap-book-journal-ing. Enough of tumblr and facebook.

Spent the day cutting out random aesthetically pleasing pages from magazines and watching Sherlock Holmes. It's so witty, and Robert and Jude make a great pair.

Their onscreen chemistry is matchless, and I heard they are a great off-screen couple as well, sharing sneakers and all.

(My handwriting SUCKS.)

OH and so long to my 1st physical year in NTU!


Class picture from COM 254 Interpersonal Communication, the best module to take in CS (Pub Design comes second!).
Too much analysis sometimes, can be of a good thing.
GOOD BYEEEEEE


.....

I'll direct the energy I set aside for you to work on this journal instead.
There's so much more meaning in it.
But what if the journal's about you anyway?

You are a grand master of silence and no one can move you.
Or rather, everyone moves you, except me.
No more trying, no more crying.
Definitely no more hanging high for nights to come.
I've extended this deadline way pass anything.
It's losing validity.
We all know what happens to things that has lost validity - discard.

Let it die, secret heart.
Because I don't want to be just another doll in your collection.

2.49am.

I'm staring at your name like that's the only thing I'm allowed to do.
It is, I suspect it is.

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out

on a lighter note (since i obviously cannot dwell in the sorrows of unrequited love for more than 6 hours at one go):

I think the idea of psuedo lover upsets me so much but there seems be be this strange light at the end of the tunnel with Mr Floppy - who is all humour and wit - Floppy and I had this a conversation, other than the usual laugh-out-loud-till-your rectum hurts and the "love of my life ain't no longer love of my life" kinda conversations, this was what he said (in mockery or not I really cant decide):


Floppy: you are that quirky female character in the standard indie dramedy chick flick
Floppy: romantic chick flick
Floppy: the zoeey deschanel, if you may

But it was a smooth transition from thirsty thursday to friggin high friday!
AWWWW.

You had me at hello!

- Got the job! (working with soldiers and having to deal with their egos might be tough..)
- Ate a fantastic dinner with the C girls.
- Took a long walk
- Talk therapy
- Email therapy
- Saw the eye candy! (no brown loafers, but sneakers today)
- Used my new moustache bag! ($15 from http://nincompoopsie.livejournal.com/)
- Great Music all the way from Denmark! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mh9gnLyNcVs&feature=related)
- Mum's surprise call from XXXX miles away in the cold winter

BLISS



and chancing upon this:




It can only get better. And I remind myself, it can only get better get better get better.
But I still think about how you had me at hello.

Why should he come back through the park?

"Why should he come back through the park?
You thought that you saw him but no you did not
It's not him who'd come across
The sea to surprise you
Not him who would know
Where in London to find you"


The Park by Feist

Our Esoteric Dreams.

I love the fact that you never try hard to get to me, and yet you always do.
Striking me with just the right amount of energy and wit.

How do you manage to get to me (my thoughts and my heart) all the time? Just how do you do it? Is it THAT easy to get to me? because it seems effortless to you.

Saying things like: “Where the Tall and Wild Things Are” just when I’m listening to the soundtrack of “Where the wild things are”.

Questioning "The adventures of the tall and weird", just when I have been bothered by its lack of progression.

Asking if you were the very person in question (Yes, you fit perfectly into the category of "Tall and Weird"), Mr Floppy hair, even when you know you are not.

This is the second time now that you made me re-evaluate the idea of: The wrong person who does all the right things.

Occasionally I look back on the meals we had together (not many, but all worthy of a long blog post) and the things you said. A discussion at the bus stop, the idea of leaving the virtual world (MSN, facebook, twitter) and despite not having any similarities in music, lifestyle (you smoke too much, sleep to little and eat with no preference) - you make the idea of a friendship work. To be exact, you ROCK IT (like sending my sampan out to sea)!

You are the wrong person who writes and says all the right things. You became a benchmark.

It's a pity I'm not in love with you, it would have been fun, really. Now I know how bad my taste in men really really is.

Lovely ladies.

It has been awhile my lovely ladies.

Ask me one question, any question.

(rachelmsmith)


If I said: "Ask me one question, any question" and I'll answer in all honesty, what would your question to me be? And to begin, would you even bother? Would you read into it? Would you ask me something of value to this barely existing relationship of ours? Would you? Just one question, what would it be? What would you like to know?

Will you ask me the about the very secret I'm trying to conceal? The one that I'm dying to let you know.
will you? or won't you? Really I'm so bloody curious.

You found me in flashes.

You found me.
In my dreams, my nightmares, my trips to school, my quiet moments detached from the world, and even in the shower.

You leave me.
Hanging high, sometimes hopeful otherwise pretty defeated.

Everything happens in such quick flashes I hardly have time to savour, both the pain and the gain.





. in real life, what are you busy with?

Tall and weird ones get to me.

Do I call this avoidance? Maybe it is for the best.
The tall and weird ones continue to get to me.

While you're after her heart,
I suffer from a lack of emotions,
that even an overdose of good music (hard to define) can hardly cure.
You are the best.


The playlist spins,









and strangely,

(just two songs from them, if not I'll be headbanging and causing quit a stir.)


//

AlaindeBotton's tweet: We have become such experts at being always in touch, informed, connected. Now must relearn how to be silent, disconnected, alone.

Marina & the Diamonds, Obsessions

"We’ve got obsessions
I want to erase every nasty thought that bugs me every day of every week
We’ve got obsessions
You never tell me what it is that makes you strong and what it is that makes you weak. "


Tell me.

Everything assignment related:

//

The long weekends are almost over.
and I have no mood to argue with your thoughts.
Or even ponder about them.
I's rather put my energy into something tangible.

My heart howls in agony.

I cannot rest.
My body and mind are jittery, every moment.
My every heartbeat is almost determined by the decisions you make, and even the ones you don't.

At the end of 2009, I thought I saw an end to it.
Nonetheless I was plunging deeper into this super massive black hole. (it's so huge this is the only term available).

I want to disappear.
I want to lie my way to liberation of the thoughts.
I want the answer to be YES, because nothing else will suffice.
Honestly, I won't know which path to go down after that.
But then again, how would I know if I never ask?
Unconscious reading of your non verbal cues is already enough to put me in despair.
The song "friends, lovers or nothing" plays in the background, prompting me to dwell in this wrongness.

//

Despite the deadlines, I managed to squeeze in a shoot for wentong and three movies.

April Fool was no joke

I'm not sure if the forces of the world is playing a trick on me, but April Fool was one of the best day of my life.

Little sleep was involved, my hair was in a mess but there were so many other things apart from the aesthetics.

Non-chronologically:

1. Chronicle was sent to sleep.
2. Finally getting a B for my newswriting (after a series of D and C) - this has got to be the highlight.
3. Falling asleep with a smile at 3am.
4. Realising that THE camp song was actually "Run" by Snow Patrol.
5. At the end of my newswriting script, Hegwig (aka "mother of journalism") wrote "improvement in newswriting noted"
6. Bak Kut Teh for dinner
7. $5 beer and calamari at Brewerkz
8. A night of meaningful coincidences and insight with a new buddy (and knowing that we don't have to move forward)
9. A long bus ride home
10. Picking up JUICE, after months of being deprived.



I reflect, all the time.
And randomly pick out ONE highlight of my day everyday.
Given that I managed to pick out 10 yesterday, it says alot.

It was as if everything "lighted up".



via Marc John :)

"A quotable 21st"

If I abruptly approach you for a quote, please do not be disturbed.
I am merely working on a little project.

Since young

"Even at the age of eight, she would fall asleep pressing one hand into the other and making believe she was holding the hand of the man whom she loved, the man of her life. So if in her sleep she pressed Tomas’s hand with such tenacity, we can understand why: She had been training for it since childhood."

Milan Kundeva, “The unbearable lightness of being”

The coolest macbook cover

Been wanting to post this for awhile. COOL SHIT!






lovely lovely Wednesday delight.




via http://www.twelvesouth.com/products/bookbook/

"I dream, sometimes that is the only right thing to do."

"Dream a little dream of me" - I never knew these lyrics could be so haunting.At 3am I gave up, knowing that even if I made it through the night, quality will be low and I won't survive today. Tonight's production night and I can only choose to give my best.

Ironically I was staying up reading Murukami's quotes, which I figure it's time I let him take a back seat - too distracting.
A dinner session with Libing saw the the possibility of a new read, "The unbearable lightness of being". The book is an easy read, divided into "sections" such as "body & soul" and the what nots. I can see myself reading it and listening to Dashboard's "Screaming Infidelities".

Hurukami haunts me, his quotes, and my personal association of various objects with him.
I saw X & Y both entered my dream, they took the same approach, like badly cast male leads acted out by novice actors.
One minute I was wandering, the second I was sitting in an antique bookstore, sharing a read.
Out of nowhere, you popped out. Walking by me as if I were a ghost, but the truth is, you are the ghost in my life.

And so when the alarm rang at 8am, I saw it as a relief.
Because I don't want to acknowledge this existence of us. I might reject the notion of being engulfed by a fragment of my imagination, but neither do I want to come to terms with the fading thread that is linking us together.

I prefer a daydream, not a haunting dark moment that is a reflection of the reality.

So I dream,yet again, because no matter what, that is the only right thing to do.

Your drug mule.

And I realised that you have been like a druglord, and I, a mere runner. A mere runner of unimportance. A drug mule some would call. You have many of those, little drug mules that come along offering their services for an intangible joy of smelling your cigarette infested breathe, hearing your throaty voice and glancing at your rugged and worn face. I am at your mercy, your disposal and your service.

Did you know the death of the drug mule is caused by the drug lord?

I knew I was walking into a mistake the moment we met.

A fragment of my imagination

I need you to hear me from your heart.
Then let me know this is not a fragment of my imagination.
That is my only remedy.


via http://nincompoopsie.livejournal.com/

Please, Don't

Don't withdraw away from me just because I'm being critical.
I'll like to hear your voice even though we disagree.

It's so easy to sit around and wait for you to remember me.

["Near To You" by A Fine Frenzy]


This week is "bump-into-all-your-crushes week".
Bumping into Mr Copy-writer from XX advert company and Mr Geeky whom I was obsessed about for 3 years in Ngee Ann, was a pleasant surprise. No actually it was more than pleasant, it induced a mild adrenalin, the kind that brings about a euphoria.

Looking back they were dumb crushes, but they made my day.

A chance encounter on the bus, being trapped in the lift together - they were very much movie-like except that it did not blossom into some kind of fairytale ending, or start, for the matter. I guess we needed so much more than the power of coincidence, I guess we needed a spark. (AH it so did not happen).

Mr Geeky threw me a salute as I went down the stairs, and him, up the escalator. He was adorable. It was as if I took a glimpse into the past, one that pumped a wave of nostalgia into my heart.

Mr Copywriter is his usual smiley self, reserved but sincere, he hasn't changed but boy HAVE I CHANGED.

....

"Baby" has come back to me. It its tangible self, it was the best thought of the day.
This hall magazine kept me smiling all night. I savoured every page of the magazine in quick glances, every moment tasted like a delicacy. Sheer delight. A success. A True Success by my Standards.

Prior to receiving my bundle of joy–the hall magazine–I went through a mind gruelling 9am-6.30pm in school.
Stuck with thoughts that could only be deciphered by some kind of higher order.
But I came to a conclusion.

My passion is cheap, my love is real but something's gonna give.
There's no fragment of light at the end of the tunnel, no chance this decision requires any further thought.
On my declaration form there will be one name, and one name only.
And it's not going to be "Journalism". No more journalism modules (unless it's design related).
I will write as an indulgence, I will write to fill up a space in the paper, I will edit for a greater cause, but it will never be a passion.
Now listed under "hobbies", it will be a part of my life I bury along with those overflowing thoughts of Ngee Ann. (Don't get me wrong, I'm not burying the NP experience, but just the unbearable feeling that it will never be like the way it was).

I mentally dug a grave and buried "Journalism".
As I prepared for an interview, I arranged my portfolio with a one-track mind and put my journalist pieces right at the very end. It has become something I disclose with much unease. PR WRITING PLEASE!

From Lelove

I thought it would be a great idea to ignore Facebook and Blogger for awhile.
Then I had to CHANCE UPON THIS POST in Lelove.
Bear in mind I DID NOT POST THIS. But it's a train of thought I've been toying around for awhile, deciding if I should post this "rant-on" kinda post. Ahhhh my guy friends will be disappointed in me. HAHA.




So a good guy friend of mine tried to explain to me that guys and girls can't be friends... Which really pissed me off. I tried to brush it off since he has just been dumped. He said, "there are four relationships girls fit into Mother, Sister, Girlfriend and Replacement Girlfriend, guess which one you fit into. I replied that I hoped to fit into the sister but I'm guessing I don't.

Replacement girlfriend. I got really angry at his response. Why? Well in a lot of ways it's true but I had never looked at it in that light. I always looked at it as it was just another asshole guy using me or, sometimes like I was the stepping stone for another relationship some kind of girl version of "good luck chuck." It was painful to come to that realization. There were sad moments when I felt that all guys saw in me was sex maybe now it's just that they see good traits in me but nothing that could solidify me as a girlfriend type. Maybe I'm just another bragging right kind of hook up. It sucks to watch a guy you really cared for in another relationship shortly after whatever you had ended. Always trying to laugh it off thinking, it can't last, he jumped into that one so quickly...then kicking yourself a year or two later when they are still together.

What's worse is that one time when you happen to be at the same party as the two of them. The whole time you try to ignore them and look like you're having the time of your life when you really want to sprint out the door and find a place to shed a few tears. Then the once time you risk a glance he's looking at her in a way he once glanced at you but it's even better than when he glanced at you because there is so much more care in the way he looks at her. Then you stop and think wow...why couldn't that be me yet, at the same time you realize he cares for her so much more than he ever did and a feeling of inadequacy settles in. Makes it hard to hope that it won't be the same story the next time. The next time you talk to a somewhat cute nice guy you find yourself wondering how long he would stick around before disappearing like the rest. Yet somehow I still hope to have a real relationship where I am not just a temporary replacement where I am the real thing that actually matters.

with hope for love,

Leila
POSTED BY LE LOVE AT 11:35 PM 20 COMMENTS




It does not represent how I feel exactly, but it does strike a cord with my thoughts a couple of months ago with XXXX (Keaty & XY will know who). These days I've proceed to being the emotional and CONFESSIONAL arm of my guy friends, can't say I hate it, it works out somehow. I guess thats really a million times better than being the "good luck chuck".

In university, its so damn hard to make friends with the girls in my batch (year 1s...1990..) In the middle of conversations sometimes I go "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS GIRL TALKING ABOUT". Ah should not discriminate.KARMA can be a bitch if you're one.

Smile of the day.

makes me smile.
via http://www.fubiz.net/2009/06/23/middle-school-program/

so Long

THIS CRACKED ME UP. FYI we were talking about OLIVER from the XX.
Long legs long legs long legs...

Rainy days with Coffee and Cigarettes.

It's pouring, and my playlist is spinning the maddest saddest songs.
Franz Ferdinard finally decided to make their exit, the Kooks got tired they stopped playing, and Florence finally stopped healing my heart. Michelle Featherstone took over the stage with her unwillingness to dispose of coffee and cigarettes. Ah, don't we love vices.

We are what we are, possess my heart ok?

"The potential of you and me It's like a book elegantly bound But in a language you can't read just yet"

Or so Death Cab Sings.

I left the door ajar, for rain to find its way to me.
I left the door ajar, for inspiration to creep right in.
I left the door ajar, for you to find your way to me.

* I was listening to the rain and admiring its amazing grace when some weird ass senior neighbour emerged from the opposite side. I eyed him from the corner of my eye and he threw me a very dirty look IT'S NOT A CRIME TO BE BASKING IN THE BEAUTY OF RAIN OK just because you don't appreciate it doesn't mean I CAN'T! *

The talk of flaws.

Which is worst, Seeing no flaws? Or falling in love with every flaw?

Honestly I can't decide.


Enlighten me.

Remember me, almost lover.

Finally, a story in which romance did not touch my heart, but instead bonds did.

The screenwriter's haunting screenplay puts me in a trance, and is a remembrance of an incident that shook the world. It is a master piece, if you can only see/read the meaning behind of every quote, every scene and every kiss, every decision. It was never about Robert Pattison, well I do love his strong and masculine back, and that abundance of facial hair, but this was not about him.

Li Bing was right: "I think this is a movie we'll always talk about." - she said that even before we watched the show.

I left the theatre with my eyeliner almost wiped out, and with my heart settled down on the grounds of New York City. I will visit that city, I will. And with a tagline like LIVE THE MOMENTS - similar to that of my own, my soul was taken instantly.

There were funny moments as well. My laugh erupted all the way down from my little toe.

Ally Craig: I don't date sociology majors.
Tyler: Lucky for you... I'm undecided.
Ally Craig: About what?
Tyler: Everything.

//

Tyler: If you could hear me, I would say that our finger prints don't fade from the lives we've touched.

//

So it has been decided that I would be called Ally. Not Ellie, Elly or Allie. But Ally. Ally Mcbeal Ally.


Moments with beer, mustard and pizza, and A fine frenzy's "Almost lovers", was a perfect wrap-up to a day filled with shameless thoughts, philo moments and a heartbreak that would last till sunday night.


Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
I should've known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do

- A fine Frenzy "Almost Lovers"

I have written about you before.

I picked this up from a random blog I've chanced upon.

"I have written about you before. I will write about you again. For that is the only time I can ever have spent with you."

This is the very problem that persists.

.

I write to you over and over again, like time never mattered and as if you were reading all of this.
You never let me know if it's getting better.
And I keep writing.
It's as if I'm writing to the old grand auntie who is about to make her exit out of this world.
The frequency high, afraid that I will miss the opportunity for any moment together on ink.
But I write with a burning desire to be completed.
Reciprocality is my nemesis.
My saviour no one but myself, no one but a clear-minded train of thought.

Sometimes I objectify you, but it is the most tangible aspect of you that can ever happen to me.
I take time to paint a picture of you.
Many a times, I give up half-way, deterred by the fact there are too many missing gaps I cannot fill of you.
Longing is unrequited, not love. So says my muse.

and so we quote: "I have written about you before. I will write about you again. For that is the only time I can ever have spent with you."

Slit wrist beauty.

I think it'll be nice to fall out of love for a change and to answer these questions, to speak about it in greater detail.

It seems harder these days to find someone and ask, ‘ if you were to spend the rest of your life alone in seclusion but with a choice of books, film or music to take with you, which would it be?”

It seems impossible these days to find someone and ask, ‘ if you had to spend the rest of your life with every memory of identifiable sadness as opposed to a shattering void, what would it be?’


I see my muse is a lonely soul ready to slit his wrists.
There is beauty in your thoughts, the way you ink your words, the idea that we live in a world distant from everyone else and yet we're forced to be LIKE EVERYONE. For companionship is vital for survival.

Good Bye "Niners"

I guess this is how it ends.
I mean, hasn't it always ended like this?
"Ending with a bang" - that does not exist in my kinda projects.

It starts like this.
You keep it in your mind for days at a go. You're inspired by every single thing that can make it better, aesthetically.

You inspire everyone else in the project. You communicate, mis-communicate, you frown over it, smile and meet somewhere in the middle. You agree to disagree for a greater good.

You fall asleep thinking about this project and wake up working on it.
You become obsessive and compulsive (I do anyway).

And gradually you become a collective form with your team mate and call yourselves "we". And you stumble into sudden closeness. When it ends, this becomes a sudden retreat. Inevitable, except for Sandy and I.

This is the closest I've ever felt to doing a creative project of sorts in Ngee Ann.
It was something remotely similar. The company was almost close, the project was without a doubt the best I've done. It was fun, there were bouts of excitement throughout. I ate less and fed more on my creative juices.

We learnt to "bleed", crash into crisis – in which for once I'm no longer a problem solver. We learnt about competency and intellectual exchange. Baby you keep us awake.

So baby baby, as we put you to sleep today, will you promise not to make a sound? GO smoothly to the printers and come back safely in my arms when you're all pretty and tangible.
I'll be waiting.

Hear hear

Rainy days with Coldplay.

Where is that "big love" The XX was singing about?

The rain brings the smell of the wet grass we used to walk on,
the sounds we use to fall asleep to,
the wet breeze we use to smile about.
The rain is here, but where are you now?

I feel a rush, to listen to that all-too-familiar Coldplay.

Nothing good happens after 3am.

Today feels like this:






:

Tinted Lens.

Confessing to being a selfish brat is self-indulgence.
I miss the company of xinyu and keat, the lessons they teach me and the way they treat me.
The day was spent drifting in and out the hall and thinking about them.
Best friends are funny people, they seem to know what you are thinking.
In the evening I received a text from xinyu about a meet-up.
sadly I had MDA essay, Hegwig, Chron, the com202 quiz and PUB stuffs to last through the week.
Not forgetting Saturday's white party at Pan Pacific.
At least we were all thinking about each other. That is a huge relief.


.
Everyone leaves.
The question is, do they come back to you again?
I can;t help but feel bitter about what and where we are now, a far cry from who we were and had.
So many heartbreaks, and zero healing sessions.
I wish we could all win.
Can you see me through your tinted lens?

Saturday - craft and nostalgia

SATURDAY IS CRAFTS DAY !!
A case of rash left me struggling for cool air and zero-perspiration

Decided to hang out at Chong's place - she had all the tools I needed to finish my "work".
Of course, I never fail to leave her house with some goodies.



MY PREETTTTTY POUCH, THANKS AH LIBING!
Although I super thick-skin and asked for it.
but it was so irresistible....
She handmade it, so its my precious ONE-OF-A-KIND pouch!



And "craft".
I need a trip to good ole popular for vanguardddddd sheet!


We attempted to watch 2 movies.
Being MURUKAMI fans, I was excited to share my latest find "All God's Children Can Dance" - based on Murukami's short story. Well apparently it was so avant-garde it put us to sleep.

Girls simply cannot stand looking at a male lead that is constantly turned-on and goes about banging a photocopier.


Abstract Norwegian production la...


Aaron Kwok's very complicated production...MURDERER
We came to a conclusion that HongKong movies are so full of potential, great location-scouting, actors (GORGEOUS) but some how they have bad climax la.
This movie was such a good scare and good laugh altogether. One of the locations really looked liked the shithole that I lived in when I was in Hong Kong.



The first scene took place in somewhere like here.
Yeah I was in that shithole for a couple of months, imagine creaky lifts, narrow dirty walkways and did I tell you someone jumped to their death there? Holymother.

Familiarity in Strangeness.

Beer makes the world go round, believe it or not.

My devastating FAIL in newswriting was actually a blessing in disguise.
It has brought me closer to certain like-minded individuals, funny, quirky, outspoken JOURN people.
As much as I try to brunch out and get a "variety" of friends, every attempt only brings me closer to the like-minded people.
It reminds me of my low tolerance for stupidity - Journ people are just different.
SO DIFFERENT.
Finally I can venture back into the world of analysing articles, thinking about scoops and big stories.
I feel at ease and happy.
It's all happening, it's all coming together.
I'm no way closer to nirvana but I see a joy ride ahead.

Perhaps there will be more mambo nights, drinking sessions, mahjong and splendid meals ahead.

La dolce far niente

A morning of robust energy.
An afternoon of sweetness contained in void.
A spectacular night of cravings and company consumed swiftly by the heat of the night.



"la dolce far niente"


The heart of life is good.