the season's not over yet; i hope you don't forget.

i'm tired.
today daddy borrowed the car (a fucking SFD!) of dr. dev, tt asshole doctor i used to work for (the one who's having having some affair with aunty bino). so daddy picked me and zehzeh frm the hse warming. then i was sitting in the car thinking bout the things in life tt i've realised over the yrs. and i thought: There's so much to wonder bout in life. people just don't do this enough. and so i thought of all the things i've discovered bout life, these so-called profound things. things regular pple never seem to think much bout, or never had to opportunity to discover. and suddenly i feel so old now. i feel like i've discovered so much bout life, love, and living, tt maybe it's time i backed out. (no doubt i haven't lived or loved long, but i've lived and loved much).

of the day (the aftnn, to be exact) -
he (he now being the least drab thing in my currently-prosaic lifestyle) didn't get there till i left. am disappointed of course, but i'm feeling a little too jaded to give it much thought. let's just say i'm wizened and wised up.

i am contemplating sleeping through this new yr. will it be a first? can't rememeber. now where did i get tt idea in my head tt spending the new year without a squeeze would result in my feeling very lonesome and forlorn? total uncanniness i say.

oh yes, magenta orchids are very pretty. also, during next visit to cck cemtery, i must bring a premanent marker.

Merry Christmas.

when the clock struck 12 this morning, my throat miraculously became a lot better. i owe this one to God; thanks my man.

no thanks to andrew for dissing christmas joy. yea sure, we look round and wonder why on this day all these pple are so happy bout a birthdate tt isn't even correct. but hey, happiness is a delicate thing - i would know- so i wouldn't wanna mess with it.

the brat tt is me forced zehzeh to find me some chewy cookies for christmas. i wouldn't accept her $17.50 The Little Prince book (why should i when i have a $1.50 one frm the rental shop, right? haha). she's keeping it for herself anyway. haha. i love my zehzeh. this year, i have no time to make any Larson-style cards. sorry to disappoint those who received them last yr. i do have hugs to give though.
jing came to watch the pageant and attend midnight mass. it was great to see a good friend after so long. {:o)


the eve afternn:
join them for coffee? can't - i have to go home and sleep.
so how am i going home? i'm taking cab home with wayne.

>and almost immediately, i regretted; you should've seen the look on his face... tt look. i was almost sure right then. and now, if he doesn't try anymore, i can only blame myself for sending fucked up signals. if i had put more thought into the replies, they might not have sounded so sweeping and care-less. you know, sometimes i feel foolish right up to my throat; so stupid and childish for guessing and getting it wrong. please let this not be another dumbass mirage.
beda bhai, my aunt agony, what do i do now? i've screwed it up!
note to self: i have till february to remedy this.
lesson of the day: non-chalance can be alluring... if it doesn't backfire.

Tis the season for infection.
Fa la la la la la la la la
Brace yourself with some protection
Fa la la la la la la la la
Spread the warmth and love this season
Fa la la la la la la la la
But if you have some germs, just keep them
Fa la la la la la la la la

Don those masks, prepare some tissue
Fa la la la la la la la la
Just in case you need to *ah choo!*
Fa la la la la la la la la
Dang, I think I’ve caught a virus
Fa la la la la la la la la
Bloody f^%K this goddamn sinus.
Fa la la la la la la la la

got an MC for today and tmr cos my throat is swollen and scratchy. thanks to oversinging, under-eating, overworking, under-sleeping. using my leave on friday. so i practically don't work almost this whole week. woo-hoo!
pageant practice stretched to a crazy 5 hrs last night, and there's more tmr. mumsy is just done altering my xmas dress. i wonder if anyone will wear the same dress for mass...
time keeps stopping. and i don't think it's only cos my watch keeps stalling. but as i was eating dinner by myself yesterday, jing called. and it was like time started moving again. i duno wat i mean. i'm just trying to recollect wat i thought yesterday.

it feels different this time. is it cos i've never liked a guy who was this much like myself? or is it cos it's just been a long while since i've been this pleasantly surprised? ... i'll just take it as it comes and hope for more pleasant surprises.

friday:

wow. the day seems to have stretched itself. this could have something to do with my taking a halfday, but i think tt's not just the reason.

got back bout an hour and a half ago (a la Stuart's jaguar!). i just washed the cigarette smoke (courtesy of paramount genesis) out of my hair. i swear, i recall zilch of my carolling at paramount last christmas. i didn't even know i went! is it possible? did i KO last year and forget everything? (in andrew's words: bizarre...). well, unfortunately for me, the only thing tt i remember of last yr's genesis singing was this sleazeball with a swollen lower lip who kept throwing us horny looks. i saw tt disgusting crapface at genesis today and was suddenly certain i went last yr. ugh.

i went to daddy's hse after halfday "work". i realise tt when i see daddy on weekdays, i'm less tetchy than i am with him on sundays. there's probably no one good explanation to this.

on a different note: am i getting vibes am i getting vibes am i gettin-- *piak*... *piak* (slapslap). ok. no vibes.

things i've noticed of late:
#1: i click better with sji guys than i do with st. pat's guys. something to do with my being frm ij tp (as opposed to KC)? mm, perhaps. i seem to relate better to the former's sense of humour. does tt makes sense? c'mon... gimme a courtesy clap, ya?
#2: to guys who are 3-4 yrs older than me, i am still a little girl. it's really weird. i mean, if it's cos of my size... i'm pretty average-built for girls my age, so why's it tt only i qualify as the little girl? not tt i'm at all bothered; just find it weird tt's all. haha.
#3: i am, apparently cute. like... huh? yeah, beats me. in the past half-yr, i've been getting a lot of comments tt i'm cute. er... ok, haha thanks ah.

Holy Grace kindergarten, graduating class of 1991. if you recognise anyone here, kindly let me know (this doesn't include me ya, but you can guess anyway). i know nothing bout the pple in the picture, except tt there's one matthew (a certain teo hee ann), a pair of twins, 1 esmee koh, 1 andrea, 1 andrew chan, 1 claire chun, 1 elliot lin mingren (my best friend then), 2 jeremys, and 1 amelia (yours truly).

i'm really bored. carolling in 17 hrs.
i will soon fulfil a dying woman's wish, and then i shall be happy.

Saddam Hussein has been captured.
my heart, however, remains at large. i always think i've spotted it, but am always sadly mistaken. since quite a while ago (though i can't point to exactly when), i've found myself bored to bits. i'm craving some form of emotional stimulation. i wonder how some pple can so complacently do without the need for emotional depth.

note to self: try fried camembert i saw at bugis the last time i met durga for lunch there.

shit i have to work new yrs eve night. je ne veux pas travailler. non non non!!!

i have to keep reminding myself tt i shouldn't be looking. i shouldn't even be waiting. i should just... i dunno lah- i cannot sleep... ah... help me. find me a heart i can hold like my own. i'm a naughty little girl i am; disgracefully unpure as you could imagine me to be.
of nothing: i promise to aesthetically enhance this page by adding a picture soon.

i was bored at work yesterday (no, this isn't the newsworthy part). so i decided to look for myself - literally. it was an afternoon of surprises as i discovered things i never knew bout myself. for example: i own and manage a design business, am a member of a UK-based Yeo Society, and i'm corporal in the singapore girls' brigade. also, i was baptised on 30 july 1845 in cornwall and i came in second in a 3km-race hosted by Universiti Teknologi MARA. behold my amazing achievements!

thank you yahoo.com *sniff-sniff*, now i feel like i truly know myself. hahhahaha... welcome to the world of wistful waiting. when it comes, i'm sure i'll know wat it is i'm waiting for.

just now the boredom was really clawing at me.
tmr we're singing at belmont. hope it's good.
zehzeh and i put decorated the tree last night. it was so nice, i had to dance round it a few times.

things tt make me high:
music, love, severe weariness, pms, performing, dancing, severe boredom, oxygenated water, and random sunday mornings. yeah.

just now only, my heart felt pinched. i'm jealous bout anything and everything, of someone - over no one.

i thought the lead of Muse was a girl. and so i thought to myself - when i first saw the video - woah, she's so... woah. if i were a guy, i'd... woah. ok let's stop here. don't get me wrong; when i said woah, i didn't mean shwing. i just meant WOAH (or WHOA, whichever way you wanna spell it). well, he's still sexy anyway.

i saw malcolm thwaites at lawry's. he didn't see/recognise me. i wonder why we called him uncle butch.

daddy is not back frm new york yet. i swear he's staying at the hse of some relative of aunty jessie's. he may earn a lot, but i don't think it's enough to cover more than a week's stay there. i sometimes talk like i've got a problem with this nonsense, but i really don't mind - as long as it's nothing at my expense, daddy can go sleep with whoever he wants. his pasal has never been much of mine anyway. please know tt i'm not saying this with any spite (i've grown into it already anyway).

i wrote a song yesterday. and now i realise it sucks. at first i thought it sounded a little like suzanne vega's Tom's Diner. but then i realised it sounded like some poser-justin timberlake song and i don't like it. so, looks like we'll have to wait for another spurt of inspiration, karin.

sometimes i wonder if i'm turning lesbian. and i think the only thing tt stops me is the memory of being with a guy and my scepticism bout whether a girl could ever offer such emotional gratification. (of course, if i were a guy, this would all not be valid, ya). and so, this would lead us to the next para. (see, i am such an eloquent writer haha)

i don't really love anyone. not even myself. [said andrew]
i'm so sorry you feel tt way (sorry for who, i don't quite know). don't worry, i am not going to launch into some nonsense bout how everyone should love themselves (i don't believe in imposing love on anyone anyway). i was thinking more along the lines of but why? he's good at it, you know. i can testify to tt (i'm not just saying this ok, andrew.) [and just so you know, i'm not nagging. i'm thinking all this]. i won't tell him to go find a girl to love. but when he does find a girl (or if she finds him first), she'd be pretty damn lucky. i love you, my nonsense friend. {:oPig (in a good way haha).

if i don't sleep now, i won't be able to wake for work tmr- wait a minute... tt's an idea... hhmmm haha.

Do you love me?

Do you love me?

Do you love me?
Do you love me?
Do you love me??

i HATE it when pple tell me how bad my complexion is and then tell me wat i should and should not eat.
Look here, you insensitive fuckhead. i am having uncontrollable hormones ravage my system so it's not like i can help it. it's bad enough i look have to look at my screwed up shitface every morning with the knowldege tt i can't do nuts bout it. so don't come tell me how bad i look and stupid shit like tt. if i wanted your comments, i'd ask for them. i'll throw you some P. M. S. and let's see you handle it. i could just tear anyone up now.
RGHHHHHHHHHHHH ,.,.,gt;lnkpbjovjve'hojtvbkjr gde. fuck you.

evreything is grating my nerves right now so screw off and fuck yourself.
i don't believe in childish overusage of vulgarities. but tonight, nothing can justify anything, so leave me alone. 1.26 am.

after work, i took mrt to simei, and mummy picked me frm there. she and uncle jeffrey were out today to get her a birthday present. but they did't find anything she liked, so they dropped me home together with dinner for me and zehzeh, then off they went to Diamond Industries where she would definitely find something she liked. just before i got out of the car, i imagined wat would happen if they got into an accident while they were out tonight. i thought bout how devastated i'd be and how much i'd cry and how far away daddy is at the moment (New York). then it would all be like tt time in cj last yr; when daddy was living in holland drive, and mummy and uncle jeffrey went to penang. and i broke my glasses the first day they were gone. my kindly classmates brought blind me to town to look for a spec shop. will i be so lucky the next time stuff like tt happens?
it scared me when i thought bout this, and so before i exited the car, i sniffled a little to myself and tried not to cry.

today, i thought bout how you are riding my nerves when you tell me things i don't want to hear. i must be cursed to be encumbered with such unproductive sentiment.

i like Sexed Up by robbie williams. painful songs seem to suck me into their melodies - yes, i'm an emotional masochist. but right now, i think i'm just bored.

A-P-A-T-H-Y, there’s nothing left to see
A-P-A-T-H-Y, I’ve lost reason to be.
A-P-A-T-H-Y, there’s nothing left to play
A-P-A-T-H-Y, has stolen my whole day
A-P-A-T-H-Y, numbing all the pain
A-P-A-T-H-Y, life is such a bane.

ON PLAY: I Know, save ferris.

mm... good music, good times.

i have jon to thank today. my dear kawan without whom i could not have lasted the dreadful day at work.
thanks also to durga for breaking the monotony of lunchtime by relating her own hellish worklife.
thank you andrew for calling me at work and for being such a pig (? haha).
really - thanks for calling.

- i don't want to do this kind of job next time - don't get much satisfaction out of it (aside frm the free shoes, water bottle and cool AXN pen)
- lawry's last night was somewhat ungratifying. i hope tt this is only due to the fact tt we haven't yet warmed up to the season.
- good news: my stye has almost disappeared and i will soon be able to wear my contact lenses - yippee.

i want a cj reunion, but i'm so tired. it's hard trying to get pple to meet. it's fun to reminisce bout those good ol' cj days; pontang-ing chinese, doing LSD (haha, tt's Long Slow Distance ya'll...), playing badminton, taking bus with weizhong and prakash, running cross-country (i came in 77th!), having Toilet Club bitch sessions, prancing to the toilet, hanging by the piano, being a trusty geog rep (haha). not doing GP essays, falling for my prince charming... haha. yea, those were good times.

the other day i was thinking to myself tt the key to living life deeply is to empathise. pple don't realise it, but when you empathise, you see everything differently - life seems to become 4-dimensional or something. the realisation is a tad overwhelming if you're new to it, but then when you get the habit of thinking in evryone else's shoes, it gets a lot easier to understand pple and you become more introspective too. this could be to the very root of my schizo/random tendencies; still, i maintain tt empathy is more a good thing than bad.

today, boys and girls, i have an extremely enriching experience to share. it goes like this:
you see, i have a stye in my eye. yes; a ghastly god-awful and very very painful boil on my lower eyelid. i am calmly sitting surfing the internet when suddenly, my left-eye vision is vitiated and it starts to feel a little like i have a tear in my eye. i begin to wonder why. a quick trip to the toilet mirror reveals... my disgusting, infected eyelash follicle has burst and the pus is starting to impair my sight. i wipe this off, and so now i sit here relating the incident. and so you will ask Wat do we learn from this? vitiated. hah.

Le Papillon (say lerh-pah-pee-long) is a good show. am still trying to figure the title and words of the song elsa was singing.

i've concluded tt a bit of flirting and having pple (whom i'm comfy with) breath down my neck once in a while is not detrimental to me or them. ok, so i do enjoy it ok... i shouldn't feel bad bout tt, right?

fucked up knees and a bloddy stye. i tell God, Look, if you didn't want me to go to the party, you could've just said so. jabs at my already-wavering vitality are very uncalled for. i felt bad for thinking of it tt way, but i'm just a little frustrated with my condition right now.

i miss you. i should stop treating pple's words like they were promises.
just... call me ok?

thanks for your well-wishes ya'll. i dunno if my knees are better, but thanks anyway. i think i'm really llucky to have so many good friends {:o)
because i am now really a bit cacat, the only dance i can do - tt won't worsen my condition - is one tt uncannily resembles an ah beng dance. haha. oh well, i guess tt's the closest i can get to dancing right now. haha.

you know, listening to teenybopper songs makes me feel a bit like i want to be in love. (this sounds so familiar; have i mentioned this before?). maybe tt's the underlying purpose of teenybopper stuff- to make you feel like something's amiss; tt can't be a good thing, can it? it's nice to have someone to love huh...

everyone go have a listen to Beth by KISS, nice... and now playing: John Lennon's Jealous Guy.

was at aunty june's hse just now for mini Hari Raya dinner and adam and tim were jamming in the room and i sat round and imbibed it all. then i thought to myself: they can start a band and call it The Puspalms. tt's both their mom's (and my stepfather's) surnames. plus, it also happens to sound pretty a-go-go-ish. all they need is a vocalist (pick me! pick me!) and a drummer haha. oh, and it'll also be a good way to preserve the family name (which will disappear here by the next gen). come quick, applaud my resourcefulness! yay!

shit... i keep crying. it hurts too much.

i don't know whether i'm crying because of the pain, or because i'm just so sad. i have tis very rueful look on my face now. i'm not sure anyone cares though; pple think it's just anothe rone of my issues. maybe it is. i don't care, i just want this agony to stop.

just when i begin to find emotional stability, my wasted body crumbles beneath me. in case you need me to fill you in, the cartilage in my knees has worn off and so the pain in my joints is killing me. wat's also very painful is the jogging-abstinence the doctor has imposed on me. i know, pple all say Big deal... just don't jog lah. you dont' understand - i feel so helpless. i duno how i'm gonna go to work on wednesday and lawry's carolling next wk. and i probably have to forgo the china black party too. the pain is draining me. this is all so daunting. i hate being sickly. in case you don't know, i like to run, and i like to play badminton (not good at either, but i do it anyway). and in case you didn't know, i love to jump and dance when i'm high and happy. i don't wanna talk bout this anymore. it's painful to not be able to dance.

on saturday, i realised (not for the first time; but i was very very sure this time) tt performing makes me high. it was st. cecilia's choir feast day, i went up on stage to sing Je Ne Veux Pas Travailler. following, they all managed to persuade me to stay on stage and sing my trademark song - I Will Survive. i think it was a dynamic performance (this i could tell frm audience reaction), and i didn't realise how high i was till i got off stage and realised tt i couldn't stop trembling frn the adrenalin rush. it feels good to perform well. which is also why i'm so devastated bout my knee injury; it might mean i can't sing at lawry's.

Now, you'd think that you learn something in a school. well, these fish in my hse's tank are obviously rebels then.
today was a good day, so seamless. really, i've never had a day as clear as this one.


Flower Thoughts


on the bus, i finished Kitchen and i began to feel a warm feeling grow inside myself - i suddenly identified with the way Mikage felt. i know i felt tt way before; some distant time away, i did before. and it felt good.
Then i came home to new (and idiotic fish) and dinner (nasi goreng campur). and i thought to myself: it's a good life i have now. consequently, i got scared a wee-bit tt it wasn't going to last. but the joy brushed the ill feelings aside. so now, i'm all good. good.

i looked up and suddenly, i didn't recognise where i was. it's not like i've only been there once or twice. this was kembangan mrt station; i knew it fairly well. but this afternoon, it felt like something out of the future tt felt nostalgic. it felt so... tentative. but there was a whiff of familiarity about the whole scene tt was comforting. my thoughtlessness formed an security blanket round me, diluting the pervasive changes.

later: my beloved bedok interchange with it's old-school everything. past the fruit stall, nangka aroma forced itself up my nose (not tt i resisted much). i love pasars (hari, malam - everything!).

last night i wondered when daddy was gonna tell us bout his affair with aunty jessie. it's not like i don't already know.
did you know tt brie and Berri dark grape juice make a good snack?

Don't frown at me like that, Boey. tt annoyed face annoyed me.
but then, this was later clouded by other more important things such as having a nice meal at aunty june's. yay! good food. and adam showed me how he can now play the latest Three Doors Down song. good for him {:o)

i have issues with children who don't know how to daydream and don't bother trying. ethel, janelle and shannon are three brats who regularly come to my house and fight with each other to use the computer, bang their fingers on the the piano, or play with someone's handphone. if they can't get their hands on any of those things, they insolently announce they are bored. tsk, how annoying. can't they just learn to stone? or hide behind curtains and talk to themselves (i used to do this quite a bit). plus, i have a whole case full of bks; am rather insulted tt they find nothing readable there. watever lah. (NB: the aforementioned type of boredom is vastly different frm the apathy some of us occasionally experience). the point is, i don't get why some pple just can't think of ways to entertain themselves. it's terribly tragic you know.

zehzeh and i were bored just only, so i dressed up in my new vintage dress and we used up the shots in the instant cam she'd brought for her sentosa escapade just tt day. haha, hope the photos turn out right; they're cool i think.

during mass, i busied myself with thinking bout random shit; in between these thoughts were visions of myself getting struck down by God for not paying attention. why do i always feel tt i have to make bargains when it comes to God? i always feel like it's all a game (refer to: the price is right). no; we don't have a very healthy relationship, me and my God.

i was thinking of getting an acoustic, just for fun. maybe it'll make me more motivated to improve my playing. anyone got a second-hand to offer? (andrew? hahaa).


The Completely Pointless Personality Quiz


i did the thing below a few times, entering a diff names each time; check it out ya'll...

**elia Y** was a Happy Pick-Pocket in a past life. Discover your past lives @ Quiz Me

*m*l*a j**q**n y*o was a Snooty Travel Agent in a past life. Discover your past lives @ Quiz Me

a****a **o ** *** was a Happy Fighter Pilot in a past life. Discover your past lives @ Quiz Me

a****a j*****n **o ** k** was a Creative Explorer in a past life. Discover your past lives @ Quiz Me

... in conclusion, AMELIA was a JOB-HOPPER. haha.

i met amy yesterday. she's an instructor trained by Wilderness. i heard from my boss yee pin tt amy's father recently committed suicide. but you'd never guess cos yesterday she was joking and laughing with me. over lunch, she told me how yoga leads to greater flexibility and the possibilty of more adventurous postures during sex. tt's nice, but it still does not solve the issue of tt dumb oral sex law (gosh, wat is my problem anyway?)

i keep telling myself i'm bored and tt i need someone to think of. it's sad i look at it like a remedy. shouldn't be tt way. i'm just bored to pieces.

up, down, up, down, up, down. is of my day.
i realised today tt the shell station at TBL bldg has only female employees (i think). and i thought to myself, hey, i could work here. hah. then i bought a hazelnutchocolate wafer thing to make myself happy.

mummy and uncle jeffrey left for bangkok this morning. daddy leaving on cruise tmr. i sat at my messed up laptop at work today, all by myself for bout 2 hrs. i want to thank all the pple who replied to my countless sms-es. my table there is beginning to look like the one at home. i've concluded tt i'm the kind of person who really really cannot hold a normal 9 to 5 job. it's been less than a week, and i dunno how i'm gonna tahan till next month. thankfully i get to listen to radio online, so i don't fall asleep.

for a change, i went to OUB centre at raffles place to watch POFF play (nice songs, ya'll), and get a suntan at the same time. tmr i might go watch somemore, and toast me a nice brown. i hate the thought of going to work at the same time everyday. i'm so used to having classes at diff times everyday, so i can't take this... take... me .. away..............

finally borrowed Kitchen. started on it on the train home. good.

i think i'm alone now. there doesn't seem to be anyone around.
wonder what time they gonna be here, my bosses. maybe they not coming in today uh-oh... haha

I love you from the bottom, of my pencil case
I love you in the songs, I write and sing
Love you because, you put me in my rightful place
And I love the PRS cheques, that you bring

Cheap, never cheap
I'll sing you songs till you're asleep
When you've gone upstairs I'II creep
And write it all down

Oh Shirley, oh Deborah, oh Julie, oh Jane
I wrote so many songs about you
I forget your name (I forget your name)
Jennifer, Alison, Phillipa, Sue, Deborah, Annabel, too
Jennifer, Alison, Phillipa, Sue, Deborah, Annabel, too
I forget your name

I love you from the bottom of my pencil case
I love the way you never ask me why
I love to write about each wrinkle on your face
And I love you till my fountain pen runs dry

Deep so deep, the number one I hope to reap
Depends upon the tears you weep, so cry, lovely cry, cry, cry, cry

Oh Cathy, oh Alison, oh Phillipa, oh Sue
You made me so much money, I wrote this song for you
Jennifer, Alison, Phillipa, Sue, Deborah, Annabel, too
I wrote this song for you
Jennifer, Alison, Phillipa, Sue, Deborah, Annabel, too
I wrote this song for you
For you, i wrote this song for you

(Song For Whoever, Beautiful South)



i've realised tt if i stop walking round the back of Tan Boon Liat building, i won't get so scared like i did yesterday. the day was good, then bad, then good, then bad... so it was ok i guess. the office is only a bit bigger than my bedrm, but i have my own work corner. which is cool with me. downside, i have to take a basic course in rockclimbing/abseiling where my bosses/colleagues/instructors - who all happen to be all of 2 pple - will show me the ropes (please laugh at my intended pun). this, so i will understand the co better. seems they expect quite a bit of me. i hope they don't over-expect, cos i really don't think i'm oh so capable. i should revise my sleeping schedule; was so deadbeat i KO-ed on the train.

thank you andrew, for sending me nick valensi's picture. fwah, all the handsomeness, man... woo hoo! mm-mm! sweet dreams are made of- *wink*

ORAL SEX IS ILLEGAL?!!?
haha, no shit, since when? i'm very amused and shocked all at the same time. i mean, i never knew! did you? did you?

it's such a stupid law. ok, i'm a horny bitch - so sue me. it's an act of affection man... (well, it should be). how are pple spposed to be caught and fined anyway? doh. it's just so crappy and prudish. ok, just imagine, all the couples in sunny s'pore just doing it the normal way; and you thought nothing could get more boring than local Wheel of Fortune. i never knew the meaning of ludicrous till now... fwah lao.
i don't know what i'm talking bout right now. this issue just seems to bother me; my sexlife (not now lah, i mean next time ok)is at stake. hahaa. shut me up, someone.

i just saw my previous entry and wat the fuck is real love anyway? haha, oh man... i don't even know what i meant. oh yes, random point - disregard all the touting you hear of Shanghai Baby; it's a disappointment, tt book.

Martin breathed a hey gorgeous down my neck this afternoon and asked me to kick him in the ass with my new everbest heels (which i realise resemble part of an S&M ensemble). i'm not quite sure how to react. i imagine there be a battle, a battle for gorgeous. then there'd be violence and killing but in the end, she'll just run off with a guy tt is neither. sad? peut-etre. this is how i try to amuse myself as i swim in this pool of listlessness.

Shake well before use.
i'm a carton of (try saying this in one breath) cacophony-floating-on-a-layer-of-piercing-silence-lying-atop-some-real-love. shake me up.

Caution: Do not pierce packet.
this will probably make you want to poke more, but don't anyway.


migliacci never call me so i don't even know the details for Wilderness Associates. even the suspense has died already. today i was irritated by this whole attachment thing. i'll call again tmr, in my punjabi suit and all indianed-up.

i've quit. i've quit. and i'm not just saying it. please don't let this be just a temporary thing...
now, i'm just waiting for something to happen. randomly, i recently realised how i still dress like a kid sometimes. but i don't do it on purpose; it's just tt the clothes i like to wear look a tad gi-na. so there. chey! {:oP
i's like got a thang for Benny frm City of God. is hot, is hot.

Strike up the band let it play
Love songs to haunt me and I will stay
But when it comes to a waltz
Both words and music will ring false

For you waltzed in
And spun my world
Around in dizzy dance I swirled
But suddenly
You waltzed away from me

Those violins, they must go
So no careless hand with a bow
May play on the strings of my heart
And make me remember how lovers part

How you waltzed in
And spun my world
Around in dizzy dance I swirled
But suddenly
You waltzed away from me

Strike up the band let it play
Whatever it chooses and I will say
Play me a waltz if you will
I'll sit here and listen waiting until

My love returns
To take my world
And spin it 'round
In dizzy swirl
Where girl loves boy
And boy loves girl
And feet don't touch the ground

(The Waltz, Silje Nergaard)


go buy 4D today cos i got myself a jazz cd. i love the way Silje carries this tune; it's so pretty. i think i have a thing for scandinavian singers (with the exception of ABBA of course, haha).

i realised today that i've romanticised some of my memories, resulting in beautifully nostlagic - yet unrealistic - flashbacks. this is all ok, until some of the subjects concerned make cameos and show me how much i've twisted my realities. it's like an epiphany, you know. but vien reckons this enlightenment won't stick for long and i don't sppose it would either. *sigh* oh well...
i'm really tired.

ok, i'm spposed to be studying PR, but i couldn't resist writing cos i've had the urge to blog since yesterday and i didn't.

last night, we dropped by uncle peter's pub to wish aunty irene a happy birthday and as usual, i was saboh-ed into singing karaoke haha. sinead o'connor's nothing compares to you. have to admit i didn't quite pull tt one off. then aunty irene wanted to sing some charismatic (yes... i know- like huh?). so she put on her favourite Power of Your Love (an oversung song, in my opinion) and insisted i backed her up on tt. and there we were - a quirky 18-yr-old in a preppy tank, corduroys and trademark docmart's, and a sexy bra-less tightdressed 50-yr-old (complete with ponytail hairpiece and stilettos) crooning to holy melodies, while trying to ignore the inaccurate lyrics and tacky visual accompaniments flashing on the karaoke monitor.

i have to say, it wasn't so bad after all, the karaoke. and the best part was knowing tt i had made aunty irene's day. you should've seen the smile on her face when i sang with her. if i could make pple smile like tt everyday, i could be the happiest person on this planet.

i'm not sure which hurts more - studying PR (NB: does not constitute serving beer or getting frisky at a cheap lounge) or having period cramps ('period': a big irony, since the discomfort never seems to cease). well, either way, i'm doing both simultaneously now, so it doesn't matter.

this afternoon, i imagined myself as a little girl holding a basket, wearing a hood, walking through the forest. No, my initials are not LRRH. anyway, i had a lot of peace in my basket. and along the way, some birds kept flying by and crapping in it. tt pissed me off, but i walked on anyway. and i kept trying to find some nice untainted peace in my basket and when i did (though it was increasingly seldom), i was very happy.
now i hope you didn't think this little tale was going to end with a moral, cos it doesn't. i'm not sure what the point to it is. you go figure.

i'm not sure why i keep throwing myself into the twilight, just to float in my melancholy. if i could, i'd rid the ones i love of their pain. if i could, i'd save you... and you... and you... from all the hurt and pain. everytime you hold something in, a bolt loosens in your brain. and then bit by bit, you'll lose it, and then you won't be able to think so well anymore. i hope shana doesn't grow up to be as troubled as me, or worse. i want to take the pain away for her, the way no one really managed to do for me. this is like reliving it over again, and i still feel helpless.

you probably think i'm full of angst. well, maybe i am. oh you won't understand. tell me it's ok cos the tears aren't enough to wash it away.

! You are most like An Emerald !
Caring, giving, - and very emotional. You're the
person people turn to with a problem. You worry bout
everybody, and genuinely want to help - a little too much
sometimes. As an emerald, you tend to take a more backseat to
the other gems, but your inner beauty soon captivates those
who take the time to get to know you.
Congratulations ... You're the selfless gem
everybody needs as a friend.


?? Which Precious Gem Are You ??
brought to you by Quizilla

i am now unattached in more ways than one.

Peach Blossom Media has a downright funky place. only thing is that i won't be working there... well, at least not this sem anymore. Channel 12 decided to postpone the Tomato Twins roadshow, thus making me jobless.

however, today was (and is) still a good day. went to the cool chinatown shophse office for the interview and i grinned nonstop cos i was feeling really happy with the place. afterwards, i was inevitably drawn to a nearby sale. i then took NEL for the third time and stopped at commonwealth to let myself into daddy's hse to take a snooze on the sofa. woke up and made instant mee and a good cup of rosesyrup for me. then off to sch for bitching session.

do you remember that flowers have genders?

i'm not sure why, but recently, everytime i see a couple, i find myself imagining what it would be like when they have sex. i wonder how they do it, whether they enjoy it... yada yada. i must be one kinky nutcase. it's especially interesting when i see odd couples (like a tall guy with a short girl or vice-versa) and i ask myself how do they manage?
you know, i should really stop right here. i swear i don't think of this on purpose. and so tt really gets me wondering: Why do i even think bout all this stuff man?

at daddy's hse, i found a cut-out of an article on depression frm The Sunday Times (Oct. 26, p. 28-29). i read it and i agreed. but you know, it doesn't help to write an article like tt if the only pple reading it are depressive pple like me and my dad. In case you're wondering, YES, this is a hint: GO READ THE DAMN ARTICLE, YOU IGNORANT FUCKHEAD. go enlighten yourself and then you'll understand why i can't deal with myself the way normal pple do it.

i will calm down now, because today is a good day and i want to keep it tt way. also, i borrowed Shanghai Baby today. i feel like an ice limau halia.

We swung around. Tied together, we swung.
Hold it and don’t twist. It hurts. Oh…
Opened drawers and shrivelled prunes;
gone to the graves and flown to the moon.
We swung around and around.
Say, if I held this against you, what would you say?
Console, console. Swing with me – yay and yippee.
We’ll swing till yesterday...

i wish i could say confidently that today was a good day; i wish i could do that with every day.

it's so painful to know that the world is moving on while i'm just being a bag of sour grapes. what will it take to get me to come to terms with it all? i feel myself becoming a lifeless, droning cynic, and i don't like it. i need an emotional revolution, something to pull me out of this rut. perhaps i've taken life a little too seriously that i've killed off a bit of myself.

i remember when antonia and ian asked me to study with them at the airport before they were a couple. as we sat and ate and studied and talked, i realised that i was getting in the way of some unspoken desires (not mine) .tough shit. i left in a while, feeling not so good about myself.

yesterday: kenny shouldn't be doing this. i don't think it's good for me, for him, or for his girlfriend. tt's wat i think, not what i feel. i don't feel like it's wrong, what he's doing - i just feel slightly guilty and cheap with the fact tt i don't like him and yet i let him do what he does.

i need to feel wanted and i want so much to feel needed.
hold me tonight, make it all right.

thanks for putting tt song on your blog, Nad. Basket Case, Green Day - some pretty good shit man.
and i realise that i often think bout tt same thing you often lament bout on your blog - bout being single and all.

i know it's not their fault they flirt with each other in front of me. in fact, i can understand how nice and tingly they feel; but please- not in my room and not when i have work to do. thank you. i realise i've evolved into a more cynical me (i have no further comment on this).

i vaguely recall wanting to kill someone last night. fortunately for the bastard, i am a forgiving bitch.
the swelling has eased a bit and now i can blink somewhat normally. lately, i've been too tired to sing much. God let this not be the end of my jukebox days. amen.

i became dangerously unstable today as i walked along the outside corridor on level 8, fms blk. maybe it's my fault that i was naive enough to think most pple have the basic intellectual capacity to engage in a conversation. i looked down past the railings and i saw an escape.

this morning i woke up with a nauseatingly-vivid memory of the nightmares that plagued my mind last night. i don't understand why i keep getting them. they're so real and so clear that when i wake up, i feel like i'm still in hell. i remained disturbed the whole day, and visiting the audiotech studio only aggravated my neurosis. i may play along with everyone, but i have little respect for those who don't bother to show me any consideration.

on the train home, i thought bout how i've lost most of the faith i had in people. i used to think that there was goodness in everyone and i was stupid enough to think that i could make that goodness shine through. now i know i'm no super-angel-girl. i always hoped it wouldn't come to this.

i got Peach Blossom Media for ITP. receiving the letter for the attacment was sortof the highest point of my day. but then again, i'm lousy at Flash so it could be bad news for me.

Yup. said dedrick. and tt signalled the end of our newswriting adventure. both YAY and BOOHOO. yay because i don't have to bother myself with certain very annoying group members, but boohoo because despite it all, i really enjoyed doing the newspaper. i think i might even do print journ in year 3. wonder if i'll get it for attachment this sem.
oh yes - boohoo also because the end of this means the beginning of other less-enjoyable mandatory endeavors (think PR and WebD).

last night, yvonne, ck, jon and i were at dedrick's till 1 plus a.m. editing and re-editing the articles. too bad we couldn't afford to insert an obituary page for ourselves. had a fun time going crazy with them though. i'm glad i wasn't in the other group; they seem worse off.

the french interview was comme ci comme ca. i don't think i'll get the trip, but i dread getting the phone lessons. my favourite words during the interview: je ne sais pas and ah... oui. haha. now, i have to worry about tmr's spanish exam (tengo un milliones preguntas! ah!!!) and the aforementioned projects. not forgetting my swollen and tender left eye... adoi.

hold me down, honey, before i throw myself at you.

chicken essense does not sit well in my stomach. worse still, with goats milk and julie's chez crackers (and i'm not trying to be coolz... it's really spelt cheZ). dedrick wants to run liz over with a truck. tt oughtta straighten her out pretty good. heh.

it's a quiet morning in the eastside, except for whitney singing she wants to dance with somebody. i will promise myself to do well enough for saturday's french interview - well enough to get the free lessons at the AF, but not good enough to get the week-trip (i certainly do not appreciate language being imposed on me)

what's it bout you i like so much? what's it bout you i want to touch?
hold me. hold me. hold me. down.

i'm feeling hungry in a very ambiguous way. it was a good day; retail therapy has proven its effectiveness. i am, however, having that bruised-eye feeling. i am waiting in vain for articles to sub.

it hurts so much, the pangs in my neck. when i try to keep the tears in the little container that is me. i'm a bottle tt's bout to break. i have to wipe the water away cos pple will question when they see it in my eyes. i can blast the music, i can lock the doors, but it resonates in my head. i bite my hand hard and scrunch my face. spectacles help too.
it's like i've rolled myself into a small hard ball of existence. so that if you throw me hard enough against the wall, i might just break. then bye bye amelia.

i had a talk with God last night (note tt i don't use conversation). i told him tt i forgot who he was and tt maybe he could help me remember.
-OUCH; the intensity of the previous incident drove up my shoulders and neck, making it hard to type and think well. you won't understand the agony, but i just need to tell someone-
so God said... he said... actually, i don't know what he said - perhaps listening too hard hampers my hearing.

just before lunch, mummy called daddy to scold him for buying stained marks &spencer clothes frm a london reject shop for zehzeh and i. i had to chant loudly to myself and quickly close my room door and blast my music so i wouldn't hear all the shouting. tt's the least i can do to save myself. up till now it still affects me. it scares the shit out of me to hear pple shouting at one another, and it makes me cry. mummy said she hates it tt daddy treats us like dirt. i'm stupid because i don't know how to reply or react to any of this anymore. God save us, broken children.

dedrick just called and he's really panicking. well, so am i actually. for newswrit.
liz sent me her article, but seems to be in a totally diff lingo cos i seriously no comprendo. and she didn't bother to spellcheck either. oh tt magical liz, who hath the power to mysteriously throw stories into all obscurity. mm... i wish i had super-powers too.

tomorrow:
- graded spanish presentation at 8am.
- 8 hours to
... bug SDAR for an interview for NAPFA story,
... look for more stuff to cover,
... study for FP,
... get blazer for french award ceremony
- (no time to go running - sorry vien)
- 6pm, FP exam which i am hoping i will not flunk.

This morning: i am a true heartlander. i love sitting at the hawker centre in the morning in my comfy homeclothes, eating my masala thosai and drinking my teh-si, listening to the music coming from the malay station from the radio at the chinese drink stall, and reading the newspapers, while balancing with one leg propped up on an extra chair. i feel the happiest when i'm doing all that.

i went back myself after choir practice and stopped at BK to accompany myself to eat dinner. it's not all that sad as it may sound. i chomped turkish burger and contemplated contemplating[sic]. i thought bout how i hadn't washed my hands before i touched my food and i wondered if it was gonna kill me, like all those pple who die accidentally. then i listened on-off to the teeny-bopper lovesongs pumping out of speakers that i could not see. and this got me on the brink of a sad forlorn-ish mood but i was pulled back when i nearly choked on my delightfully-spiced steak burger, which i subconsciously forgot to chew before swallowing. then i wondered if the other pple sitting alone had the same things going through their minds. i thought bout how shad had said the turkish burger was very tasty; and this got me staring at my turkish, wondering why it didn't appeal so much to me.

i eventually did leave BK, and stopped by a makeshift shop and bought me a $2 shirt. (c'est une solde; et tu connais moi...)

i got on 291 and i thought of the time when i saw a guy crying to himself and i gave him a piece of tissue. and i wondered why the other people didn't seem to bother. and then i thought of how i'm spposed to be in cantor ministry, but i've yet to attend a single gathering. and i know deep inside tt i don't want to because i don't know how to believe in God. and tt got me wondering how other pple seem to find so much in religion, while i just fail to feel anything. but i guess i still sing in church because i hope tt through my voice, pple will be touched by God - in the way i have never been.

As i got off the bus: Was my birthday wish to be sane? i can't quite recall.

i've always worried that posting my ramblings to myself on a blog such as this one (as opposed to just rambling to myself alone) would cheapen my words. maybe it has. tough shit.
i know i'm crazy, but it hurts to know you like to make fun of that. it's not all fun. just like my stupid scandalous family. it's fun for me to talk bout it but it's not fun knowing that i'll probably turn out like them.
Jump by kriss kross. is not a song to listen to when i'm sitting at beside a window feeling neurotic. spinning around to hard rock makes me high and dizzy so i lie on my bed with little means to get to a kitchen knife.
just keep talking. talk me out of this. i'm choking on adrenalin vomit. take me to live with you, happy shiny people. my head is pounding my body is numb. sobriety, where are you?

i have issues with the Sunday Times/Plus. i haven't touched the Straits Times in a bloody long while and just now i picked it up, only to get annoyed and pissed off. check out this headline (Sunday Times, p. 10):
He cooks.
He cleans.
He works
full-time.
Meet the new, exhausted SUPER DAD.

and to this i say...? So? Big fuck lah!? my mother worked full-time for nearly 7 years, inside and outside the home. and she cooks, cleans, drives, does laundry. my mummy epitomises Tough Stuff ok. and if anyone dares to tell me my mother is supposed to do all that anyway, then prepare your neck brace cos i'm can get pretty violent when i confront an issue.

now, moving on... what is up with the bad commentry on the highlights on the Sunday Plus TV page?

OK. i just had to get that off my chest. now, just random: i love wearing my IJ uniform. so comfy. it's the nicest uniform in the country too. i feel like wearing it to sch again. hmm...

boo hoo. poor amelia is online all by ! herself. 4.30am - a bloody ungodly hour to be up. editing zareen's article on Musik Art and doing my own on petanque. ooh my eyes are swollen it's disgusting.
later this morning, baby JJ is coming over but i'll be having sleep-glue on my eyes then. i am hungry and i keep poking at my eyes. ouch. does eye-poking induce sleep glue? wat is sleep glue anyway? ah....dah...lah...deedee dah...

After a gruelling six-hour showdown at Toa Payoh Sports Complex, Ngee Ann Polytechnic overcame the odds and landed third place in the Inter-Poly Petanque Championships. how's tt sound? exactly 25 words.
nice work amelia! gee, thanks! oh boy, all this writing is driving me nuts!

and guess wat's on my playlist now... SURFBORED by Clement. haha, you go Clemmy!

some early morning trivia: i am addicted to chocolate goats' milk. ya, ya - milk frm chocolate goats.
i love you, goats, bAaaaaAAaa. baaAAAaaaAAA.

PBK
Hover above and tickle the stars. My lips, a bowl.
If you find you want to stay, I won’t force you away.
Pretty blue kingfisher my love, pretty blue kingfisher.
You’ll fly by and I’ll touch your softness, feed on your tenderness.
Pretty blue kingfisher my love, blue kingfisher.
You live forever and float a cloud before my mind’s eye.
Misty, get so misty, you nonchalant effector.
Pretty blue kingfisher my love, kingfisher.

I can’t find the yesterday I loved so long and hard; the one I clung to and now tore apart. Sting so it doesn’t hurt. Blink so it’s clearer. Take me to that day, my yesterday. Tomorrow will rise and today will swing aside. And I’ll have no recollection - no, none at all.

ok, i think i'm officially mental (ref to sept 22, mon). but tt's ok.
some songs tt make me a little high; sometimes, maybe, i dunno...

Sweet Jane - mazzy star.
Passenger - deftones.
Fade Into You - mazzy star.
Take a Picture - filter.
Fake Plastic Trees - radiohead.
Olsen Olsen - sigur ros.
Roulette - system of a down.
Glass Vase Cello Case - tattle tale.
Medication - garbage.
Falling From Grace - gentle waves.
Gold in Them Hills - ron sexsmith & chris martin.
Wish You Were Here - pink floyd.

...one time or another, in one way or some other.


hey let's just sit round like we did before. you don't have time for me, and i just don't have time. (playing: Shine Like It Does, INXS) find what, Hutchence? you crazy bastard. hah. goats milk smells like leftover roast beef.

conversation `a petanque:
tu t'appelle comment?
-ah?
tu t'appelle comment?
-huh? er...
tu t'appelle-
-oh, je m'appelle Amelia; Amelie de Ngee Ann Polytechnique (i'm thinking: i am so witty, hur hur...)

`A voila! - yours truly, Ngee Ann's best french student. yes, simply the best. uh-huh, oui oui.

rainy day. good day. (except the fact that i can't stand the loser sitting behind me in PR)

i must've looked like i was gonna kill someone when i walked through the sch gates today. i hoped inside tt i wouldn't burst into uncontrollable hysteria. i guess half-hearted laughter is better than none at all.
maybe i expect too much from friends or something. why stay away when the going gets tough for me? oh i know it's just so easy to run. but hear this: i'm in a mood- don't abandon me!!!

then i wasn't allowed to hang round in B02's photog class. so i walked to the library to sit by myself in one corner, where my colourful and volatile temperaments wouldn't be of nuisance to anyone. cried then grinned to myself, then walked round so i wouldn't kill myself with the deadly combination of emotional overactivity and physical inactivity. bumped into nad and faz and zareen, and just sitting there with them made me feel better. maybe that was all i really needed- pple to be around me and, though acknowledging tt i'm down, still treat me like normal and make me feel that it's ok to have a mood. thanks nad.

and, i found Natural Born Killers to be quite disturbing.

i haven't felt the way i did today in a while. if it's not pms, then i think i'm officially mental. sudden terrible outburst. i guess it was all building up. i remember when i felt like that before- like i want to cry and cry and not stop. there was this sadness in me that was just seeping through every pore. and then the crazy feeling will just manifest itself in my sobs, punctuated by hysterical laughter. NICE.

what really hurt was when you turned away and didn't want to know. i thought friends listened. what makes me so mad is when pple are nice to me because their just scared i'll start shouting at them. i don't need pity or fear ok. i hate fake empathy. fuck you. maybe i just need someone who's not afraid of me. good luck, amelia.

melting shadow dripping black, flow my senses free. powder the emotion on; feigned empathy. Twilight on the tastebud of a reluctant tongue. swollen voids echo and coo. better start to run away, away. (scribbled during FP class)

i can't guarantee i won't be that way tmr. i feel volatile, so volatile.

blablah.

at johnathan's wedding the week before last, i realised how much i miss singing choral music. i mean real choir-style (think Haendel's Messiah), in an all-girls choir. i miss it so much.

sashi has chosen the lucky pple to be in her newsgrp. ooh, lucky lucky eh! haha. i have yet to be victimised by her imposing ways...
i realise i have a lot of work to do, but i don't seem to be able to panic. time is just racing past me and then it's already 20th(pam's bday), then 27th (musik art!), then 3 october (webD journal due)... yada yada, you get the pt.

every now and then, i imagine myself in a band singing my heart out. i can't hear me, the words i'd sing. but i see me enjoying myself. it's not really an ambition; i guess i'm just curious to know if i'll ever be in tt dimension.

oh no, guess wat... i'm was in tt I'm With You mood again today. too long... it's been too long.

i feel like folding myself up and placing me in a corner.

if i can't love, then wat's the use of me right? i hate the way i speak about love - like i know it so well. i find the concept is a cliche in itself; it's sickening, really. my legs ache because i've had little sleep over the past week. remember how i said that i live for the past, so i can turn round and relook each second that glides past me? i haven't been turning round lately so i'm not sure what i've been living for. not for love, tt's for sure. for now, love is like a false consciousness i secretly impose on myself, just to keep me occupied till i find some other source of amusement/bemusement. i don't believe i'm being cynical, i just don't know what to look for, and i don't feel like dying anymore.

c'mon life, humour me, won't you? (or have you forgotten just how to?)

now, you may think i'm in the mood, but i'm not. came back late - i hung out at kap mac's with vien and sam. we had fun, didn't we? {:o)
i said today that i like lending my books out to people cos i take immense pleasure in seeing them experience a book that i've enjoyed. maybe i feel like i'm doing something for the world. i wonder if my keeping the receipts on the inside of the covers is my way of keeping a record of my life. i dare say i'm handling my life pretty well now (not relative to any time, just now). now that i have words to imbibe, i feel a lot more settled. if you need to account for it, i would blame my stagnation on my wonted yearning for love.

"I promise that I'll be able to recover all my memories of you," she said, all of a sudden, as we were walking along. "Even if I forget them at first."

"Every single one?"

"Of course. We've done so much together, wherever I go and whatever I see, I think of you. Newborn babies; the pattern on the plate that you see under a paper-thin slice of sashimi; fireworks in August. The moon hidden behind clouds over the ocean at night. When I'm sitting down someplace, inadvertently step on someone’s toes, and have to apologize. And when someone picks up something I’ve dropped, and I thank him. When I see an elderly man tottering along, and wonder how much longer he has to live. Dogs and cats peeking out from the alleyways. A beautiful view from a tall building. The warm blast of air you feel when you go down into a subway station. The phone ringing in the middle of the night. Even when I have crushes for other men, I always see you in the curve of their eyebrows.”

“So does that mean every single thing on earth reminds you of me?”

Once again, she closed her eyes, and then, opening them, looked directly at me, her eyes shining like glass.

“No, just everything in my heart.”

“So, you mean, your love for me?” I said, somewhat surprised.



(from Helix by Banana Yoshimoto)

Theory of my Temperament
You are just a mood I have every now and then.
So intense I can’t resist it or try to contend.
You’re one of the better ones, the one that makes me smile.
You’re that mood I want to feel, if only for a while.
So transient, you come and go, like a gentle hurried breeze.
A temporary indulgence, a pleasurable disease.
But of course there are those times when I’m off the high of you;
Then the sentiment invalidates, like canned fruit past its due.
So you see, I’m not just bluffing when I say that I don’t know.
I guess you’re just a mood I had and could never let go.

Filament
You burn me and you make me high.
The heat; radiant pain.
This drug, this bane.
Just keep turning me on while I decide if I want to last longer or die this way.
Smoke gets in my eyes but there are no tears to dry.
The walls shiver around me and through black spots I can see the outside,
only, I can hear nothing.
I thought long ago that we could make it.
But we forgot to fuse. Oops.

just got an email from daddy, regarding my newswriting article (on handsome soldier boy) tt i sent to him to read:

"thank you Melia. I hve a question that has to do with interview/media industry protocol.

When Terence said: "....whether the tedious practices were really worth his "burned weekends"."
I think he means " ....whether the privilege of participation is worth both the tedious practices and the burned weekends".

In such instances, are you allowed to amend the transcription to make it more understandable to the readers?

Cheers
Dad"

well, too bad, dad - i handed the thing in already so can't change it now. Now you can see where i got this compulsive-editing trait from huh. i even edit my own blog entries for spelling errors and semantic noise. haha.

-Where your mummy?
sick.
-sick?
ya, she's sick.
-your daddy? - where he go?
papa went to KL already.
-went to KL? ...........................

there shana stood, just behind me, blatantly lying to mama. i could feel the pain of a child who has to lie to keep the peace. but instead she will end up with nothing but unrest in her pickle. something like empathy screams from inside me to do something. But what?, i cry, but wat?
aunty grace called aunty nako and told her uncle shawn's presence at mama's bday dinner would spoil it. so tt's how my aunty nako suddenly became sick and uncle shaun was suddenly in KL. but this arrangement won't keep all happy for all time.
i followed a damn drama taiwanese serial tt mama was watching on channel U today. and much as i'd like to say it was ridiculously dramatic, i couldn't help but liken the whole scenario to my family's. this is almost like Days of Our Lives - everyone's having an affair or in some other exaggerated predicament of a sort. i will save you and me the elaboration, for fear of never being able to find the end.

sidetrack: as of last saturday, i find (watching) ballet to be sensual and just a bit short of being sinfully titillating. amen.

Anthem of Our Dying Day, Story of the Year.
a really nice song. it's swirly-swirling in my head amidst pin pin hei foon lei.

i am in a moodless mood right now; so moodless that i can hardly imagine the times when i felt so emotional i could burst.
PanOxyl makes my face red. so if you see me in sch later today when i go hand in my website, please do not for a moment think tt i am blushing. before you ask, i will tell you now: it is the damn pimple cream. oh well, it works good anyway, so i won't complain... much.

re: my previous entry,
maybe i don't hate being kindly and shit. i don't know.
however, i am very sure i hate celery. am i losing you here? haha. oopie-doodle! i was eating the last slice of st.mike's apricot-buttercream swissroll the other day, when i suddenly experienced an epiphany-thingy: i like the word buttercream.

... and this just in - i have a new cussing word: GOPODSA. yes, you heard me right, you dumbass gopodsa! ah-haha! thank you, we love you, and goodnite!

PS: And don't forget to dwnload Anthem of Our Dying Day!... we can defeat RIAS!

one day i will die because i am too fucking nice. too nice for my own good.
i can't beleive myself. i haven't showered. fucking hungry and i'm still helping people. oh how kind of me. AARRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh
it's like my drug you know. the drug that i hate but can't get enough of. and slowly, it'll kill me; burn me inside out.

take my roman blinds away. NOW. the strings are driving me nuts. they just sway in the wind and look so harmless. the keyword is LOOK.

i haven't even cooked my salmon burger yet. i woke up and realised i couldn't think anymore. not like the way i used to.

uncle shaun is such a bastard. shana is 9 this year. i was 9 when mummy chased daddy out of the house. i can't rememebr if i gave a damn or not. but the fighting had to stop sometime. uncle shaun is back, but men like him don't know what a promise means, so i reckon he won't stay long.
you know, i can almost see myself as a single mother with a fucking asshole for a husband. i'm creative, but it doesn't take a lot of imagination to come up with that.

you can try to empathize. i don't mean to be a bitch but, tt's propbably the most you can do - try to empathize. you will never know the way i feel. you'll never understand how i deal. cos you don't wear my shoes, and you don't have to choose.

yup means i'm not angry. if i say yup, it means i'm ok; either tt, or i'm high. but high is ok as well. so screw my redundancy. goodbye pretty blue kingfisher.

haha, hey andrew, sama-sama. haha.


Who's your inner rockstar?

Rape me... rape me, my friend...
Rape me... rape me again.
(Rape Me, nirvana)

so don't mind me if i'm seem a little kurt today. heh. geddit, geddit?? wah, so witty... i's the comic genius, maan!
i bought me Creepy Susie from kino on saturday. i wish people would understand tt it's not so much disgusting and crude as it is cruelly and sadly sweet. it's quite touching, really.
today there were 3 brats on the train. they made me reconsider wanting to have children. if i ever raised such annoying insolent specimens, i'd do the world a favour and throw them into the river.

i've been having this mushy feeling inside of me lately. maybe it's that time of the month.

today, this sickening wave of sudden malady took me over, for only just a while. so familiar, that feeling. then i forgot bout it, and i laughed again.
now it's back. i guess i brought this upon myself. i wanna give me a big hug and tell me it's ok... it's ok.

i'm not sure i understand what you mean, and it's making me confused - confused in a way tt i don't want to be. confused like i want to purge all this and vindicate myself.

the string hanging from my newly-installed roman blinds is scaring me. the little white plastic attachment goes clickety-clickety-click against my window sill. and it's scaring the shit out of me. it looks like a plastic tampon. the stingy breeze makes it go; clickety-clickety-clicking... the beat of dissolution. here's where i'm thankful for my laziness.

and so i begin to wonder what the rest of my life will be like. we are swimming in circles. circles that aren't really round. not that you would notice. do you know what this is about? it's the life i took and don't know what to do with. maybe all i need now is a good book.

fever night fever night fever...

i seem to have found some sort of sedative tonight. commissues due in the morning and i'm still wasting time surfing and reading my own blog. and i don't even feel the customary panic that should've hit me a little more than awhile ago.

ate oatmeal cookie on 154 and got motion sickness. hung out with fagger and flouter, andrew, and watched a terribly-boring movie. looks like Alphaville has found some competition eh? Mad World, Gary Jules. i am not so good at hosting.

i have fake plastic trees stuck in my head. haha. my otak kayu (or maybe it's just plastic pretending to be wood). good song, that one. same chords as Bad Day, Fuel.

i'm growing old. i know this because i can't feel myself anymore. i feel like i've... liquidated.

She looks like the real thing
She tastes like the real thing
My fake plastic love...

watched the parade just now. i couldn't control it - the widest grin just broke onto my face as i stood up and danced and sang along. i haven't said the pledge since cjc. and i haven't marched a step since sec 4. Homat kehadapan homat!

i wouldn't change my nationality for a thing. i love being part of this fusion. i'm thinking of taking up malay, tamil, and portugese (portugese, tribute to Nanny - pure portugese, pure singaporean!). today, i left church early for the first time since i can't remember. didn't join them at lavi's though something told me i should. maybe i should've, but then we'll never know now will we?...
all the way hm, i felt like i had this sticker tt read FORLORN pasted on my face. for some odd reason. then i got on the feeder and watched tvmobile, trying to locate handsome soldier boy whom i had interviewed yesterday. didn't see marc; and apparently, neither did mr president. haha. poor chap missed his big chance to impress mr nathan. oh well... haha

i wanna take part in the parade too. maybe next time i'll do commentry or camera work. but first, i's got to complete my article on handsome soldier boy.

Happy National Day.
there is much work to do. but instead i sit here stoned, my flat mahnjel face vertically parallel with my flatscreen. i woke up yesterday with a bruised right eye. i must've released some repressed violence on myself during my snoozy; this isn't the first time. am trying to write a good article for my field assignmt to compensate the screwed up assesed tutorial.
i had a lot on my mind just now. but i forgot it all. you know how we always say when i grow up, when i'm older blablah ? i think i'm there already. i seem to have lost a bit of myself when i turned 18. or maybe i've just been too busy to bother.

Alternative. it's great huh. All my people right here right now, d'you know what i mean? i got my first CD when i was 12. FRESH. an encounter that would further perpetuate my love affair with music.

There's dancing behind movie scenes
Behind the movie scenes - Sadi Rani
She's the one that keeps the dream alive,
From the morning, past the evening,
Till the end of the light
Brimful of Asha on the forty-five
Well, it's a brimful of Asha on the forty-five
Brimful of Asha on the forty-five
Well, it's a brimful of Asha on the forty-five
and singing illuminate the main streets and the cinema aisles
We don't care about no government warning
about that promotion of the simple life and the dams they are building

CHORUS
Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow,
everybody needs a bosom
Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow,
everybody needs a bosom
Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow,
everybody needs a bosom

Mine's on the forty-five
Mohammed Ruffi (forty-five)
Lata Mangeshka (forty-five)
solid state radio (forty-five)
ferguson mono (forty-five)
Mon public (forty-five)
Jacques Dutronc and the Bolan Boogies
the Heavy Hitters and the chi chi music
All Indian radio (forty-five)
two in ones (forty-five)
ovvo records (forty-five)
trojan records (forty-five)

CHORUS
CHORUS

7-7,000 piece orchestra set
everybody needs a bosom for a pillow mines on the RPM...

CHORUS
CHORUS

(Brimful of Asha, Cornershop)


... But i'm not making plans for tomorrow, for tomorrow never comes.

i'm not sure how i feel now. i asked karin why do i keep caring? i guess it's some innate trait of mine tt i'll never understand. maybe it's my real purpose in life - just to care. and i will carry the world's cares with me and when my candle goes out, i will pull all these woes with me into the darkness. and i will rid the world of it's burden... well at least some of it.

i piss me off when i give figs bout things i don't need to give figs about. but then if i don't care, who will?
like those graves at choa chu kang cemetery - if i don't put flowers on them, who will? there are these grassy mounds- graves of pple who didn't have anyone to care for them, or anyone who could afford to. i always take some of granny's flowers and put them on each weed-encroached tomb (i'm sure granny doesn't mind). one day, i will persuade someone- anyone- to go there with me, armed with a whole truckload of flowers. and we'll set out to remember all the pple who were forgotten; to give them credit for even making it through part of this life. there always something bout the cemetery tt i find reassuring, soothing.
i stand in its tranquility and there seems to be a lull in time. and all tt exists is me and the stillness.

i've forgotten why i started writing today. i'm spposed to be panicking bout commissues and newswriting assignmts, but the panic hasn't quite set in yet. so we'll just sit and wait.
sometimes i realise i care without really loving. is tt wrong? even if it's not wrong, i don't like caring without loving - it feels insincere. but i can't help it. or maybe i love pple without knowing it; kindof like emotional amnesia - when i subconsciously push aside feelings i want to avoid, like love... because love hurts, baby. it does.

Conscious self	Overall self

Take Free Enneagram Test

hmm... yes, i must say, this is indeed quite accurate. go try it.

Happy Deathday!
Your name:	Amelia
You will die on:	Sunday, May 18, 2031
You will die of:	Heart Disease (High Blood Pressure)
Username:
Created by Quill

i am almost 10 pages away to finishing my bk- Life After God; douglas coupland.
since my birthday last week, i've been sort of floating through everything. i haven't been feeling lost or very pointedly listless, just a bit blissful (or rather, not melancholic). the way normal people feel ( - i think).

i had been feeling tt way till just now, when mummy told me tt i was getting wine-coloured roman blinds for my rm windows. i want those cosy grunge/70s looking cloth curtains - the ones that I had picked myself... and not some prudish-looking grandy stuff. -RGH! i'm so annoyed. why does my room have to look like the other bedrms? - all neat and square. i hate this orderly crap. i know i'm sounding like one of those dumb teens who just oppose evrything. but i just hate it tt mummy doesn't seem to get it.
i know don't always take change very well. especially change tt isn't initiated or anticipated by me. seemingly little things like getting our new car, moving hse, buying new furniture, changing handphone, fms office moving... stuff like tt - it's all so disconcerting. and i can't help but feel indignant and antagonised by change. when mummy said they were getting a divorce, i cried my eyes out - because we had to move house. i've always thought i regarded material stuff with some impertinence, but i've suddenly realised tt maybe its more impt to me than i think it is. maybe it's cos i feel that the material things i have become familiar with are the only tangible association i have with this world.

you know, i like reading on the mrt. and evry once in a while, i'd look up at everyone on the train and try to spot patterns - a row of pple wearing complimentary colours, or how every alternate person looks older than 60, or some other pattern like tt. then sometimes, i'd look at pple and try to imagine wat they had for breakfast, wat emotions they're experiencing now; are they married, are they secretly in love, where are they going now? then when i get off the train, i'll forget all the people whose breakfasts and whole lives i had secretly imagined. later, i wonder to myself: will our paths cross again? will i remember the face(s) which invoked the wonder tt enriched those 50 mins of my life?

i walked home frm 7-11 just now. and i was thinking tt maybe i'd prefer a son to a daughter. my kids will probably be slightly wonky up there, just like me. and i don't fancy seeing an exact replica of myself; it'll almost be like reliving my life. i know i always seem to want to do tt, but i don't think i'd be able to handle it if it really happened.

i'm sittng in my room. with karin and roger and vien. pam and gary left just not long ago.
i loved this early morning. my zehzeh called me friends over to surprise me. and indeed i was very surprised... thanks to vien's slip of tongue and my parents' bad acting. but it was and is good nonetheless.

i love a party where people just sit round, and do their own thing and everyone just feels cool and chilled. this is better than any party i've evr thrown.

i decided not to torture myself with my own lies. i hate lying to myself cos it just burns me inside out. now me and andrew are cool, yes? {:o)

it seems like i've brought to my 18 yrs a sense of closure with all this. nothing's going to be very diff... i'm allergic to alcohol and too asthmatic to smoke anyway. but i feel like i'll start my next chapter without any unfinished laundry blocking the way. it's good this way.

i'll remember you, you will be there in my heart... ~ sophie zelmani

i hope the act in this dramatic play - tt is my life - will be as fulfilling as this moment. i will write the rest of my life this way.



photo by karin.

friday morning, i saw a woman sweep a child into her arms, like the child was a doll. later on the mrt, another young woman carried her son, cradling him in her arms. he looked like a doll. i want a doll.

have i finally knocked it into my thick head tt no guy is worth caring about? certainly feels like it. i know tt many a friend has been saying give it up, but i guess i just needed time to learn it the hard way. good for me. does this mean i'll stop being anybody and nobody's angel, and start being my own bitch? i feel like tt.

i want a doll. i will cradle him in my arms, and when he's old enough, i'll walk him to Apple Tree (some nursery or kindygarten near my hse with cute sch uniforms) everyday. and after sch, he'll tell me bout his friends and he'll hug me and kiss me. i'll have something tt is truly mine.

i turn 18 today. karol's recent laments have reminded me that i've been missng out on something that i've been legal to engage in since 2 yrs ago. i won't deny tt i've considered it before; sometimes you love someone so much, you want to give your all.
fornication used to be a moral issue for me. but the past yr and a half has been the most revolutionary yr of my life. i just took everything in; it was experimental and exciting. i rethought my values and habits: discarded some, kept some, altered some. and i guess after it all, the issue of sex diminished in its own right, becoming just another small example of something i don't want to think too much bout anymore. when one day, i find the right person in the right circumstance, i don't think i'd stop myself. much as part of me refuses, i want to believe tt fairytale love is still possible.

i've been feeling tired past 5 days till now. i know the ill has taken toll on my body. eating is now an activity i do out of necessity. i've realised tt the easiest way to kill myself is probably to starve me slowly the way i've been doing. but i'll not have such ominous speak on my bday. i think i'll wish for 3 As this yr. or maybe a good reason to want to live.

Happy Birthday to me.
the calm is comforting this sweet morning. i'll be at karin's hse in less than 12 hrs to record my new song. vien will go too. long time since we hung out, karin. looking forward to slacking with you. {:o)

tonight i feel insecurity building up. my heart is racing and i know it's not cos of my ventolin pills. stupid amelia. stupid foolish naive amelia.

last night as i cried to myself, i recollected - of a decade ago:
" daddy was crying. mummy was crying. zehzeh was crying. i was crying.
The crying and pleading and shouting and screaming suddenly comes back to me now. It comes back as a sick, sad tune. Like a tearful song, it's instruments all in beat, yet so jarring that you don't know whether to laugh or cry. i cried. i cried."

right now, i can't stop this uneasiness. i hate you amelia - you fucking liar.

the words began to stick and tears to flow. her meaning now was clear to see... wouldn't you know it; she wouldn't show it. ~ bread

i don't want to spend tonight crying myself to sleep. i wanna be high now... so high that i don't feel it. mummy, please stop asking me to go to bed. i can't sleep with the tears in my eyes. i'll sing you and me a song of the train i wish i'm taking as i lay my head down tonight.

Escape Express
amelia joaquin yeo

I woke up this morning with you sleeping there beside me.
And I kissed you for one last time.
I tried not to wake you as I slipped out the door
You don’t need to see the tears in my eyes.

Tonight I’m leaving on Escape Express,
Out of this world.
I just need to get away from it all.
There’re just things love cannot understand.

You may think I’m crazy
Cos we had it all – just you and me.
But trust me when I say you could more without me.
It’s better this way, better this way.

So I’m leaving on Escape Express,
Out of this world.
I just need to get away from it all.
There’re just things love cannot understand.

All my insecurities and frustration have been weighing on my mind.
It was only a matter of time.

Now I’m leaving on Escape Express.
Out of this world.
I just had to get away from it all.
I can only hope you’ll understand
… Understand.

today was rather sedated and hyper at the same time. when i laugh i forget. i've become as unpredictable emotions make me. because emotions don't listen to what you say. they don't do wat you think. my emotions - a whirlpool of excitement and nausea. reckon i won't make it past 20.

i am A LOT better now!! thanks to friends' prayers and medication and other miraculous stuff tt i will never understand. i can breathe now. but my stamina and weight and have suffered extensively- today, just walking from blk 53 to canteen 3 left me panting; and i felt like a clothes hanger for my suddenly-loose retro tanktop and bell botts. the eczema on my fingers is spreading to my arms and legs. just now as i applied steroid cream to it, i thought to myself: i am cursed. who will ever want to hold my hand? Now i think maybe i was getting a bit paranoid; i would never go out with someone who was so obsessed with outer beauty anyway. but i know tt thought will come back to haunt me sometime soon.

i tried telling my mother tt my eczema might be an allergic reaction to all meds i've been on for the past wk. she said the only cause of all my allergies is my messy rm. come on... it's not that bad ok. i thought bout telling her bout the demons in my room, who've been giving me nightmares and making me sick (no, i'm not joking). but i decided tt she was gona just nag more. so i didn't. well, it's just my loss i guess.

i've been wondering... will deutsche bank retrench my dad over the amt of money he's costing them while claiming for my medical bills? oh, i just realised, paula cole's I Don't Wanna Wait is #666 on my playlist. tt's was random. heh.
just now as i passed the atrium, i saw tt guy frm np soccer team - the one i always used to see hanging round at our PE class waiting for soccer to start. durga, i know you know it already, but i have to say it again - I am oddly attracted to this guy.

jing left for australia already. i feel so sad tt we didn't get to spend more time together. sorry jing... i chope you first the next itme come back ok?

will time just keep passing me by like tt? somehow i can't imagine living like this for very long - practically living on my anti-Bs and meds, and apathetic ever so often. will i never be able to fulfil my present ambition of living a hedonistic bohemian life?

oh boy am i sick. struggled to breathe the whole of yesterday. used inhaler, but it wears off after an hr. then finally went to Mt. Alvernia. the doctor gave me this disapproving look when he asked me why i hadn't come in earlier cos my condition was really bad. they put me on the inhaler (the tank type). and for those 10mins, i took in only pure oxygen. i'm not sure if they added anything else to the gas, cos it tasted kindof salty... ugh.
i'm not sure why, but when i told mummy tt i needed to go to the hospital, i was so tickled by the idea. somehow going to the doctor's always tickles me. (not good in this case, since i could barely breath, let alone laugh). anyway, i got to take home the plastic breather thingy i used with the tank inhaler; i can bring it with me t any GP and attach it to their tank inhaler for instant oxygen boost. yea! haha. shit i still can't breathe.

today i sat round thinking of things to do. turned the radio to symphony (yes, i do like classical music) and did a few jigsaws... bout 4 or 5 i think. then finished my Dogbert book. went on to read Douglas Coupland's Life After God. (thank you andrew for recommending it) it's got some pretty good stuff. you can borrow frm me as soon as i'm done.

couldn't go for cousin gertie's wedding cos i was sick. thank God. my poor zehzeh was stuck in the car with grandpa and daddy and aunty bino. at the lunch, she was stranded at the same table as daddy, aunty bino and (vien, guess who!!)....Dr. Dev!
tt fucker. i hate him. ugh... i knew they were having an affair - him and aunty bino. it's disgusting. well, while we're on the topic of my family's affairs, i think it's also apt to mention tt daddy is having an affair with aunty jessie. and i'm not sure wat happened to tt girlfriend of grandpa's... oh the sick world that is ours.
if you really look at it, i'm actually a product of hand-me-downs. if you don't know what i mean, approach me anytime i'm free and ask me to paint you a picture of my family's very very unconventionally-extended family. then, we will also discuss my chances of unwittingly continuing this twisted family (er-hmm) tradition. (please note, the previous mentioned activity might take a whole day. so only ask me, if you're really free.)

i hope i don't have sars. no, i am not kidding. i'm really worried. sore throat, flu and cough, breathing laboured, backaches and headaches (last 2 are probably due to tt time of the month, but i'm still scared). i considered asking Godma to pray for me, but i didn't; i've fallen out with God and i don't wanna be praying just cos i'm in need. cos tt's all i ever do - pray only in times of need. put simply, i'm just guilty ok. i don't want to ask something of someone whom i've abandoned. i don't know wat's left for me anymore. i just don't want to die right now. not this way.

Which [5 Elements] are you?

when i picked up my guitar just now, my fingers made imprints on the dust. strummed and plucked some nonsense and watever i could remember. i just don't feel so much like playing it anymore nowadays.
went to doctor's yesterday morning, so i missed PR. then very reluctantly skipped NewsWriting and WebD so i could stay at home and rest. i've got a flu, a cough, and now asthma attacks. congratulations amelia! now doesn't this whole sickness thing seem so familiar... sometimes when i'm this sick, i just think i'd be better off dead. i mean, wat kind of a sick joke is God pulling huh? - giving someone life, then making it so difficult to live...
i think i'm beginning to sound like one of those pple who just sit and rot and wallow in self-pity. i hate tt.

the rodrigues family went back to perth today. kendal seems to like me alot. she always gives me an extra big hug and made sure she sat next to me during dinner. for some odd reason, little kids are always sticking round me, like i've got some magnetic force or something. or maybe i have a sign pasted on me saying COME PLAY WITH ME AND I'LL GIVE YOU CANDY AND WAT-NOTS. haha. JJ always laughs at my antics, hanson always wants to hold my hand and sit with me all the time. it's really quite sweet if you think bout it. most kids just seem to like me alot.

wednesday night nearing 23 00...
"i've never thought of this before - that it's possible that i am truly happiest when i'm in the present.when the persent offers favourable and savourable sentiment. that's when i am the most content.
I'm in love with this moment. the trees outside adorned with tiny drops of rain, look like Christmas tress. they sparkle with gold and silver glitter.
Glitter... that word brings back memories of those old sch times when glitter was so fashionable. haha
there's something about the grey of the sky tt makes it so pure tonight, so innocent and unpretentious. i spotted a few sparse clouds sailing in the sea of perfect grey and i felt like someone on that ship is looking down at me and feeling the same way i do now.
the occasional lightning lights up the sky, adding to the tranquility more than blemishing it. and the sound of wheels on the wet road and the soft pitter-patter of drizzle on the ground and the cool air whispering a dream to me. nothing out of place. and nothing beats this feeling. i wish i could be part of it all, not just a spectator; but standing outside, taking it in with all my senses. watching the drops of rain and feeling it caress my face...

if i die now, i'd be at peace. Perfect peace."

just now i thought of someone i loved, a friend. and to my despair, i felt contempt. i get scared when i feel things i don't understand. for example, hating someone i don't want to hate. cognitive dissonance? or so we call it...

i'm mentally sound, physically unsound. ugh. so sick.. leaking frm both ends.