i'm itching to go out but i want to be alone when i do.

the truth of the matter is tt i like being around guys (except certain times when they make me feel left out by talking bout stuff tt i don't know and then not filling me in cos they think i don't have to know). girls are fun to bitch with and talk sentimentality but if i were to be stuck on an island with only girls, i would be bored to death after not long.

when a boy constantly hangs out with girls and acts like them, chances are he'll be teased for being a sissy/gay/watever. for some odd reason, i used to prefer playing with boys than with girls as a kid. i can imagine tt if i'd gone to a co-ed sch, i'd have been closer to the boys. and it happens tt most of mummy and daddy's friends who had kids, always had 2 - the older one a girl, the younger one a boy. (does this make me lesbian? hurhur) and i always ended up gumming with the boy more. i think i had to bring this up cos i feel like i'm the only one i know of who feels this way. but surely i wasn't the only 5-year-old girl who used walk run round the hse without a shirt cos she thouht she was a boy...? during the days when roleplay was nothing but an innocent game (which included fun roles such as teacher and student, mummy daddy and baby, ninja turtles and various characters frm Police Academy), i usually thought it was only natural tt my role be male or androgynous.

it's not tt men have more to offer than women; it's just something different. and cos i had no male figure to look up to, i've always been - and still am - quietly fascinated by tt difference (which isn't anythign to do with body parts, if you please). i take pride in the fact tt i have a good number of platonic male friends. and i often prefer to talk to them instead of with my girl friends. i don't seem to feel the need the urge to look at guys as much as most straight girls i know but i guess having more than one non-platonic male friend in this lifetime would make things a little more exciting than they are at this very moment.

so i forgot my point exactly but i think it was tt right now and at this very moment, i'm itching to throw myself into something tt doesn't involve the internet, and if you are male, you won't have to goad me off my ass cos i'd gladly go where you will.


listening to: Road to Nowhere, talking heads

Icicle, icicle, where are you going?



Which Rock Chick Are You?

i got home at 2 this morning after literally singing my way home. didn't wnat to sleep on NR so i sang to through the end of my 1 hr busride and while walking to my block. i wanted to turn to the malay guy sitting beside me on the bus and ask him wat he was doing out so late. So... why aren't you at home? i would say. i've always wanted to do spontaneous stuff like tt. like the time i saw this guy in the sch library wearing the coolest pair of pink sunshades and i wanted so so badly to go up to him and say how much i love it. but i didn't and it annoys me tt i always stop short of pleasing myself. yes i get some sort of perverse pleasure out of doing stuff like tt ok.

i was at coffee club talking and eating with rima. it always seems like we have so much to say and our conversations just never end. i like tt sometimes. yea it feels good when pple take an interest in what you have to say.

i got off 132 near wheelock and went toilet then floated into the sea of pple and caught bits of the christmas lightup. when we were a family of 3, mummy used to drive us down to town this time of yr just to see the lights. passed indochine and the band was good. donc, there were lots of non-patrons who stood outside the restaurant just to listen to them. i want to sing at places like tt - al fresco, with a casual yet classy atmosphere (so i don't have to doll up like if i sing in say, a hotel lounge). the only problem now is tt i need someone to provide musical accompaniment. if anyone is interested, let me know. cos i'm quite serious bout doing this shit. strolling slowly to coffeeclub, i was wishing the walk would last forever and serenity filling my head would never go away.

frm Han's karol and i went in search of a bus stop with a 132. we missed the stop and ended walking all the way at bukit merah interchange. it was valentine's day and we had stopped there and gone into ntuc to buy sushi for lunch. then we took another random service on which you made me cry, and then we ended up at toys r us. some memories are just like invisible tattoos. memories aside, karol went home and i to town.

rima couldn't meet me till later and durga was asleep and sounded a bit angry when i called so i begged karol to follow me to the 'gig' (i already told joshua i'd be there and i know how it feels to be played out so i wasn't bout to do tt to him). we bumped into gordon there, who proudly thanked the roomful of youths for coming to attend the 'service'. Service?! did i fucking hear you correctly? why hadn't i previously noticed the large print on gordy's shirt: WORSHIP. yea, oh fuck all right. well at least we were now sure bout the dubious nature of the 'gig'. joshua performed ok and the music was not bad, cept tt karol and i weren't too enthusiatic bout the whole context. when the last song ended and the stoned children were asked to move up front for the rest of the service, tt was when we took our leave.

i have nothing against religion and pple being extremely god-fearing/-loving; i'm just not religiously-inclined right now (or as andrew once put it- 'for organised religion'). i don't want to say all those things without believing a word. i just go to church now cos i believe tt there is a god (whom my parents and a lot of other pple believe in and love) and the least i could do is inspire pple with my gift of outstanding god-given vocals, even if i don't believe everything i hear in church. maybe one day i'll find it in me, the faith to believe. but right now, i'm just not feeling it.

karol and i agree tt joshua looks good with his new 'do and tt we would actually find him sexy when he's singing and doing his thing on stage... if only it wasn't all so god-oriented. but i guess the world needs holy pple like tt just to countervail the blasphemous lot (see: karol). you know wat's amazing? i think alicia's relationship with her bf ian is so amazing. i know it sounds lame but it just amazes me how she who is (or perhaps was) not very god-friendly, and he who has such faith, are so in love.

random note: my second cousin lyn's new husband looks like tony leung.


i have many friends. but i guess the person i have the most in common with is probably karol- frm physicality and disposition to certain uncannily-similar childhood experiences (like tt 'propeller' incident we both had in pri sch). i thought bout it yesterday and i realised tt our relationship is a safe one; it's the kind of relationship where you roughly know how the other person is gonna react and you can be sure it isn't too far frm the familiar. maybe it's cos we're both leos? watever it is, it's good. at the same time, i'm glad my other friends aren't like tt. life would be so totally boring.

i'm happy for jing and her newfound, bagpipe-playing love (paul). she's a beautiful person inside and out and she really deserves all the good stuff she's getting. love you jing, and have a safe trip back here. ben also recently found love for the first time (at the ripe age of 23) and i'm happy for him cos he's a good person too.
what comforting testimonies of justice in the world.


listening to: I Used to Love Her, gun n' roses

WORSHIP ME.

i forgot what i wanted to say. i remember there was a time when i was younger tt i wanted to live in a boathouse. then there was another time i wanted to be a chef. i also wanted to marry a member of the backstreet boys. there was a time i wanted to be a vet. i suddenly thought of all this when i passed changi ferry point on the way home. not tt any of this is of any relevance to me to you to me to you.

i am hornier than you think. i'm also a lot meaner and vainer than you think. and i've killed more times in my dreams than packets of tissue i've bought.

i've not been very happy in a while. i almost can't remember how it feels. now is like eating organic food - all healthful, natural tasting, with no risk of disease and yet, my stomach is unsatisfied no matter how much i eat, and it groans and a-hankers for just something to pique it.

once in a while, i think for a moment -when kenny walks past me and grabs my hand for a fleeting moment and utters my name, when andrew rehashes anything frm the times we had or when he makes me laugh the way i remember he used to, when a stranger on the street gives me a second glance- tt i might be finding the way out of this organic shithole. i feel extremely desperate and cheesy. ugh.

for a while, i've been wondering why i never got to know any of the pple in my neighbourhood. is it them or is it just me? i know it's me. recently, i've had two pple reiterate tt i create my own opportunities. and suddenly i am conscious of how unapproachable i can look and the equivocality tt can be read off my face. in a spontaneous and slightly lame attempt to alleviate this tt i perceive as negative, i took a trip to wholivesnearyou.com. one last hurrah, please.


i long to be as cool as you. how cool does tt make me? i'm obsessed.


listening: Gummy Bears theme song

listening to: Mr Brightside, the killers

i'm one of many, but you're one of one to me.


i realise how crazy i am when i subconsciously imagine unlovely instances in my head and have misunderstandings and arguments and then reconcile with whoever i imagine to be involved, all while waiting for the bus.


it's great to feel the clouds sneezing midnight dew through my window and onto my face. and listening to the familiar sounds of wheels spinning over glistening roads. i can't see the road but i'm imagining it to be as shiny as the roads at bedok were everytime it rained; like someone had littered the road with a million tiny rhinestones. it sounds of good feelings.

it's fun to talk non sense with andrew. i just realised tt the miracle hugs were his in the first place. so maybe only his work and mine don't. bah.

listening to: Balisong, rivermaya

today was screwed up like yesterday. only difference was the time of day. and again i thought to myself tt i wanted to end it. PERIOD. NO MOre. bye bye amelia. bye bye world. bye bye conscious subconscious unconscious. no, not really suicide. i just wanted to not be alive. i fell asleep on the way back home, the tears in my eyes sealing my lids nicely shut. and in the moment before i woke up, in the silence between REM and non-REM, i thought i had really died and i was bout to be happy.

i have to catch myself in a moment of pure happiness and then jump. i played a little scene in my head of dancing and smiling and landing, the smile a little crooked but still on her face and the music still playing in the background and no one around to be sad over it. tt was nice.

the wind tonight blows through my window to kiss my face and make my cheeks feel colder. and so this is Christmas and what have we done.

listening to: Whispering Actually, i can make a mess like nobody's business

Immerse your soul in love
Immerse your soul in love

radiohead's Street Spirit. i forgot how i even got this song. did i dwnld it myself or did someone send to me? doesn't matter cos it's lovely anyway.

got bored of data entry so took little stoning breaks and msged random pple and spent the rest of the time sulking cos i only got a single and ungratifying reply. i didn't realise how indiscreetly i was pouting until i started getting a few weird looks frm coworkers. i played songs in my head a few times then surfed Engrish.com and chuckled to myself.

chanced upon this (site): The Joys of Sexual Physics. interesting... haha

need my dose of freaks and geeks; i can't keep watching the same 5 episodes.

The Havishams of Here

the second time i stepped into a club was last night. i was surprised tt jen invited me to her party cos we only know each other as durga's friend. i had a ginger ale for myself and supped a bit of other pple's alcoholic drinks to make myself feel rebellious. it wasn't very happening; helped out with the cake, danced to some house, yada yada. i don't understand why zehzeh likes Rouge so much. maybe it was just my mood. 10 of us stayed till bout 1 and we later moved on to sojourn at glutton square (see: a stupid ripoff). then we took a 15 min walk to killiney rd's Mitre hotel.

i had never even heard of the place but when we got to the gates, i recognised the entrance tt i had always mistaken for the entrance of just another old abandoned residence. we huddled a bit and walked past the weathered walls with the numbers 145 unglamorously spray-painted on, down the unlit road. where the road ended, a fascinating new story quietly began for me. i thought jen was playing some sick joke on us. it was as like an alien spaceship had landed here discreetly, disguised as a dilapidated mansion. i think only jen and pohling had been there before (jen apparently did an article on the place and had interviewed the owner). so anyway this plumpish, less than pretty, awkwardly dressed youngish lady greeted us and said the old man said it was time to close or the police might come so we couldn't lounge inside. i didn't get it but i was too weirded to protest. we nervously complied when she suggested we make ourselves comfortable at the porch while she went in to get us beers. there were plenty of chairs outside but they comprised a motley of dusty deck chairs, damp office chairs and seats with torn leather cushions so we sat on the steps. through the old metal grilles, i looked at the spacious sitting rm with a really high ceiling tt was furnished with old mismatched couches and coffee tables, all lined up on either wall, leaving a crooked aisle in the centre. this old man hobbled out frm a door i never saw, across the discoloured tiled floor and told the awkward young woman to stay outside to talk with us. then he whipped out a padlock and locked us out and said goodnight. it was so weird. then a petite angmoh fella with a messy grey hair and a beard came out to talk to us through the grille (am i locked in or are you? he joked, holding a beer in one hand and clinging on to the grille with the other. am i in jail?) and the old man insisted the small guy either got out or return to his own rm. hospitality in a very alien form indeed. after a tense discussion, the little guy joined us at the steps outside. his name was Tom and he was an oil rigger frm australia and he he he h- was a bit drunk on tiger but karol and i managed to hold a decent, interesting conversation with him. turns out the place is popular with oil riggers who come here often for work and it's been tt way since goodness knows when.

at bout 3 this morning, after cab money frm perrine, i shook hands with Tom and bid him a safe journey back to wherever.

it still hasn't settled in, the impression the old hotel left me. but it was just so intriguing to go to a place i know nothing bout and talk with pple i know nothing bout. (i can't wait for next yr's adventure; i already started looking at the rates for local bed & breakfast dorms two days ago). wat sticks with me now is tt as i walked away from Tom, frm the feisty old man, his awkward daughter, their hotel with all its mozzies, in all it's curious venerability and obsoleteness, back out to the world as i knew it, i realised tt converse to the itchy bites and the lingering weirdness the whole thing left me, i was probably just another visitor to them. bonding without strings tt bind. this could be wat i've been wishing for. it just might be it.

[cue in topic change]

two nights ago, i dreamt of andrew and then later in the morning i dreamt of durga. no connection. just thought i'd write it down.


listening to: Please Send Me Someone to Love, fiona apple

nowadays, all the new pple i meet, i seem to have met before. everyone's a familiar face and it's making me wonder whether i've seen all my world has to offer me. i'm itching for something new tt i've never experienced. if i can't get a better offer, i want the melt into my unconscious and never come out.

lately, i've been dying to line my eyes black, paint my nails deep maroon, wear 3$ shirts and sit at the corner of an old street. i long to look like i don't care. but i don't know where to start and i'm scared. i'm afraid of how it will affect pple i know. and since the last thing i want to do is add anymore distress to this aching ball of dirt we live on, i will remain inactive since it also reduces the effort for me.

yesterday, i felt i needed to do soemthing to make myself feel different if only for a day or two. i painted my nails a milk chocolate brown so tt when i was bored at work today, i could look hungrily at my badly painted nails (eye candy, if you please).

the hottest female engineer in SIAEC works near me. the keychain on her haversack says: Forget it, I'm out of your league.

at work today, i heard a form of malay i was never sure existed (till now, of course); i call it Bahasa Cheeeena. examples are maru (no, not badz-badz-maru the pri sch penguin, but rather, a word spposedly meaning embarrassed), machee-am and cherpak (i sppose this means 'quick'). did i mention tt they also chope tables at the staff canteen using tissue paper pkts? (of course must lah! wait serkahlee peeper take our tayber den how?). in a better light, at least all this is wat really sets s'pore apart. wat other country can dare to boast such idiosyncrasies? well done, PAP! hur hur.

i daydreamt the other day tt i will finally find my soulmate when i'm dead, lying on a table waiting for the fellas to cut me open so they can take my organs to donate. he will stand there amusing himself with his own reflection in the scalpel before holding it to my pucat skin. then he'd cut open my throat to remove the gulab jamun i had choked on and turn to tell his fellow worker how he much likes indian desserts too.

buying tissue is all i need sometimes. i stood in the sistic queue crying to myself cos it was a bad sunday. then with the last bit of money i had, i bought 4 packets of tissue frm 2 handicapped guys and i felt better suddenly.


listening to: New Slang (ost. garden state), the shins

i've already showered but didn't wash my hair so it still reeks of pesticide frm siting in kenny's pest control van. at least i can sleep well knowing tt there will be no insects crawling into or round my ears (or maybe out of my ears? ugh).

wanted to club or go out with karin tonight but we decided another day.

is it all right for me to be annoyed with pple when they complain i stay too far then they expect me to travel to their place instead? cos i get tt a lot and it actually does piss me off most times. ya, i know i'm used to traversing the island more than most pple i know but won't anyone just fucking come to my house for once? this reminds me of the time in pri 3 when i wanted to have a birthday party so i did a kind of informal poll among potential invitees and it turns out no one wanted to come cos i stayed too far away.


so i went to nuss just now and we sat outsdie to enjoy the breeze and i ordered a mango and peach shake for 5$. i was smiling but i don't understand why cos i don't remember being happy or having any funny thoughts at tt moment; it was the kind of smile you smile when you experience an emotional dearth. or maybe the breeze sweeping past my face had pulled the sides of my mouth towards my ears. anyway so there i sat, an artificial smile on my face and the need to pacify craving to do something other than nothing in my heart. then out of the blue, michelle (tay) insisted tt chris let her take a few puffs off his fag. as she held it to her lips and casually remarked to emmeline (among other things) tt she was smoking cos chris won't stop, i looked on in disbelief and my smile began to feel more and more plastic. for those few moments, i felt like i was meeting her for the first time and i wasn't taking to her very well. it wasn't so much the smoking as it was the things she said as she took a drag almost comically and exhaled the fumes. it was like frm dark comedy and all i would've liked for those moments was to get the joke.

i find imperfection in small, random doses extremely appealing.

thom yorke's unevenly sized eyes, freddie mercury's bucked teeth, suchlike, suchlike... but still i am but human, and i am not without bias; i love men with music in them and i 'm not sure i can love any other kind. the imperfections will have to come in other forms (egs mentioned above).


i've calculated $326 to be added to my savings, just as long as i remember to hand in my timesheet. fuck, i hope i do.

yesterday was jon's bday party. i know he's disappointed more of us couldn't stay over and i wish i could make it better for him. anyways, cheers to him today on his 19th bday. love you lots and lots, jon-jon.

i was high before i got there and for the first one and half hrs i was there and was consequently captured by camera in some extremely unflattering poses. i haven't spoken tt much or laughed so much in days. it was good to get out.

julius asked me to sing for his film, Kiat. i said ok but i'm kindof scared cos i've no idea wat i'm expected to sing and everytime i get excited bout something, it turns out bad eventually. let this go all right, please.

for quite a while now, i've been wanting to learn how to play the piano. i do mean play, and not slap my fingers on the keys like i always do. will anyone teach me?

which is better - being a jack of all trades or being really good at something. i consider myself the former and am proud of it. ok, maybe i'm really good at laughing and letting my moods take me on rides to the polars. but i really suck with musical instruments and i can't help but wonder if i'd actually be good if i had a lesson proper or an objective. the same goes for ballet. i wish i'd started earlier, and i also wish i'd stop wishing and start doing something bout it.

the problem with me, i realise, is tt i don't know where to start and likewise, how to end. and this applies ot almost everything i do. from bathing, up till going to the bank. i could stand under the shower for 3 hours if no one stops me. without an extreme motive, i would never go to the bank simply cos i wouldn't know what to do and how to do watever it is they do at the bank (see: write a check and deposit it, withdraw money blablahblah). i guess you could say i'm street-stupid (a term coined by andrew in a long ago conversation hah). i attribute this partly to my being the baby of the family and having been pampered quite a bit. so i'm constantly reminding myself tt i need to find a way to get out of Clueless Avenue and start up Haveabitmore Drive, but the problem is (surprise, surprise!) i have no idea where to start.

i was really excited bout julius' idea to go on a round-spore trek some (ok, maybe not some - more like a lot) time ago. i was gonna propose staying at budget hotels and dormitories for a whole week, and wake up each morning to trek. i can't remember why, but the trekking idea never got anywhere. i really was hoping it would increase my street-smartness (hur hur). little chance of tt this holis either, what with all the work. then after i graduate, i guess.


listening to: So Beautiful, pete murray (thanks nad. love this song)

(Private Pokey needs a job.)

discomposition.

i heard the song and i suddenly felt so happy. but upon realising tt i couldn't find out the title or where i had heard it, i got angry. no it wasn't anger. it was fucking rage.
in pri sch, it was breaking my pencils and biting myself and breaking other pple's pencils and biting them (the pple, not the pencils). then somewhere along the way, pencils dropped out of fashion and i figured biting pple wouldn't make me very popular. my head hurts now and i feel like vomiting cos i hit myself continuously for a few seconds just now, right after banging my head against the door and throwing my face into my bolster. but there was discord and that chord in my head and i couldn't squeeze it out (literally). i make no effort to boast of the bravado (if you may call it so) of my irk-ful fits; i just write this dwn so tt in case i die mysteriously someday, pple might know why.

i must remind myself tt this is also why i chose masscomm over early childhood. don't want to imagine wat i'd do to my charges if i snapped like i did just now. it's like someone flips a switch and all of a sudden i need to get out of myself. hitting myself continuously isn't something i can control. only one word comes to mind - autism.

when i watch videos of myself as a kid, i always get the feeling tt the kid in the video is autistic. maybe it was the epilepsy medication, maybe it wasn't. i really need to puke and my head really hurts now. the talking to myself, the phase of obsessive compulsive behaviour, the phobias, the 101 vomit-triggers, the loathing physical contact (i used to hit or brush myself on the spot where anyone touched me), the repeating phrases from pple's conversations (only shakil was observant enough to notice this; even i don't sometimes)... i can't help it tt i don't feel like everyone else. i guess it isn't obvious cos i've subconsciously assimilated. still, i feel different when i'm alone.

i'm not asking for attention when i tell pple all this. i don't think it's help i want either. it's just tt my head hurts now and i am wondering why.