I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place that's far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say
I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
That if I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

I'm no longer moved to drink strong whisky
'Cause I shook the hand of time and I knew
That if I lived till I could no longer climb my stairs
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

Your face it dances and it haunts me
Your laughter's still ringing in my ears
I still find pieces of your presence here
Even after all these years
But I don't want you thinking I don't get asked to dinner
'Cause I'm here to say that I sometimes do
Even though I may soon feel the touch of love
I just don't think I'll ever get over you

If I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you


:: I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You - colin hay



I hope my baby never ever stops loving me.

i'm so tired that i had to sit on my apple to eat a bed.

it feels surreal, being here. but it feels so right at the same time. it feels like i'm floating and i think this may be because as i sit here, i'm thinking of the way i'll feel when i look back in 5 yrs and remember how i sat here. then it becomes too abstract to be real.

:: Garden State soundtrack


the other day, someone asked: if you had to give up your sight or your sense of hearing, which would it be? hearing of course, was the unanimous response. "how hard life would be if i wasn't able to see. pple born with sight will not be able to cope without it. at least i can get used to being deaf, but not blind."

sight, i said. i'd rather lose my sight. i could never live in a silent world. let alone one without music. no no no no. no no they can't take that away from me.


right now i don't have time to sit and watch the ducks duck and the shake-your-tail-feathers bird shake its tail feathers. i don't have time to sit on those vintage benches and close my eyes and take in the world through my nose and ears. i have no time to sit at the arts blk and watch the peacocks and the peahens and their little chick peas. i have no time to seek out a cheap shisha place and puff my brains out. i have no time to do the jigsaw puzzle i brought over and i have no time to roll around on the quad or sit under the tree and sketch me some hope for this rusty artist.

i wonder what winter will be like here. will i be bundled up like a siao long bao, with my skin threatening to break open and let my babi babatness spill out? will i feel exactly the way i'm feeling now? feeling like i'm at home, but missing home. i'm not bored at all and i suspect tt it's because i don't have time to think bout being bored. there's so much to do. banyak banyak. beaucoup beaucoup. many many things. i need to find time to do nothing.

i am ridden with guilt. i'm a terrible daughter. i cannot claim tt anything can warrant such behaviour without resulting in myself feeling sheepish for such pettiness. i told daddy like a thousand times (ok, fine - several times ok) tt if he plans to call me, he should msg me or email me at least a few hrs before so tt i can make sure i'm in my room to receive the call. but no, he'll just call at 10 something and then msg me to ask why i'm not in my room cos he just tried to call me. like why the fuck are you wasting your damn money. already you complain my course fees cost so much. then now you want me to spend more on my phone bill just so you can call me or so tt i can tell you i'm gonna call. like WTF ok.

just now rae was using my ph to call cherie's rm to ask bout enrolment and then daddy msgs yet AGAIN to tell me he just tried to call, with the implication tt i should call him back or reply with a message explaining why my phone was engaged. then i got rae to put down the ph but i hoped daddy wouldn't try calling again cos i knew i was fuming and if he called, i was just gonna scream into the receiver. but he did call. so i shouted at him for asking me questions i deem as stupid.

but i feel bad. i feel awful inside now cos every once in a while, i feel sorry for my father. daddy never knew who his father was. and then granny married 'Grandpa', who paid for daddy's education and all but never loved him as his own. and then daddy grw up and got married, confident tt all you needed for a happy marriage was a good job and maybe a couple of kids. unfortunately, his priorities were in tt same order. even more unfortunately, he married mummy, whose idea of a good marriage was a happy family and a man with a secure job (in tt order as well). and then i will not attempt to fill in what else went wrong simply because i don't even know the story myself. mummy said she'd tell if we ever wanted to know. but who am i to be so cruel as to ask questions whose answers will only cause our eyes to sweat? who wants to rock the boat when all's going smoothly. daddy is actually a good person. this sounds familiar and i think maybe it's cos i might have mentioned this in a previous post but oh well). he's got ideas tt he thinks will improve the world. he wants to improve singapore's transport system (don't laugh ok); he even drew up and did a proposal to someone an idea he had. and then he wants to do this and do tt. and he always gives money to pple who need it more than him. he's a good person but a bad father. or maybe he wasn't tt bad a father. just a regular dad with normal daddy problems at work, who had a normal bout of depression and a even more er, normal childhood. the only problem (and this is only what i i think it to be) is tt he is a lousy parent when juxtaposed beside mummy. and i feel a shitload of pity for him when i picture his expressionless face as he listens to my voice shouting at him on the other end of the line in a tone tt is a bit too familiar. i wish i would stop shouting like tt and yet i can hardly imagine it any other way.

shit, the last thing i need now is a good cry. there's too much work to do now so i'd better stop it right now.

kiss me there cos i want you, cos you want to. and you want to. and you want to.

:: Undecided - last transmission


i cannot remember wat he said tt made my eyes sweat. but the blood rushed from my chest and a painful emptiness took its place. and it's bittersweet. i would have you know tt i don't like editing my thoughts. just cos i might have to do it doesn't mean i also have to like it.

yesterday was the first day since i got here tt i actually began to worry about us. maybe a bit of worrying in this aspect won't kill. i find it uncomfortable nevertheless.

for the past two nights i've been plagued by nightmares so frightfully (homo)sexual in nature tt i woke up feeling most apprehensive bout my sexuality. i've never thought i'd feel so uncomfortable and confused bout same-sex erm.. sex. BLURGH. i can't help but wonder if this had got anything to do with my lenten sacrifice to not being so dirty-minded. i guess it doesn't matter how fast or far you run; you can never really flee from yourself.



things to do tonight/tmr afternoon:

- LING1101 tut hmwk (due:wed)

- ANTH1101 read miner, shostak etc

- French french french revision (subjonctif)

- FREN2203 journal (due:mon)

- ASIA1101 readings, choose presentation topic/week.

- LAUNDRY!

- Pack clothes for sleepover at Aunty Lorna's (Sat)

- Buy something nice to bring to Aunty PuiLeng's (Sun)

- not go crazy.

- deal with my wavering esteem

- pray. pray. pray.