! 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.