I am mildly irritated. I know why, but guess what? I won't write it here! Ooh revelation revelation. This has always been a public facade after all. To entertain you. The Tim and occasionally occasionally changwen show. I wonder if it's been successful though. hrmm. No wait that will sound like an appeal for sympathy. Nevermind.

It is nice to know though. That others have the same insecurities. A sadly vicarious katharsis occurs when blog-hopping.

Interestingly, someone asked me if I loved life. I think it was puss. Well frankly speaking, at this point in time no. Life is emotion, life is passion and energy running through your veins. Life is eager anticipation for tomorrow, life is loving each moment as it passes. I have lost life, and until it comes back to me I will hate it for its absence.

Oops teenage angst again. Purvis was right, at our age we can't whine eloquently.

But really, I think all this analyzing myself is screwing myself up real bad. When you start wondering why you feel the way you feel all of spontaneity just goes down the drain.

I am actually very bored at home now. So I shall write something to entertain myself.

I was reading Catcher in the Rye the other day (which i must remember to return BC). And strangely that bit came back to me yesterday. About how there's that period where you're really good at something, yet when you become aware of it, self-indulgence slowly creeps in. And in the end all that's left is a propensity to show off. Not that it isn't good anymore, but you can tell that it's not meant for others to empathise with, but to praise.

Its the difference between that which is genuinely an expression, and that which is a masterpiece. It marrs poignance and merely seeks to impress.

Or simply, it gets to your head.

Perhaps it is an excusable crime though. After all, the great are often given more leeway where it comes to morality. By their very virtue they are often cherished, it has and will always be as such. He is good. Until others like him come, we will have to settle as such.

Really though.
All these big boys with bad tempers.

So it ends. I hope you enjoyed dramafeste. It was truly a night of the unexpected. a 12 year unexpectancy at that.

And thanks for the flowers =). I put them in a vase they brighten up my room now.

And congratz hadri. Hahaha can be no other calamariah.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I have an unfortunate announcement to make.

As of today, Essay-whoring stops.

Have a nice weekend ahead.

Because I'm feeling frivolous.
Presenting to you the poster-girl of guess, paris hilton.

Wouldn't it be creepy if I died and you read a post by me after my death?
I could you know. Schedule posts to appear after my timed suicide.

Okay just random ramblings.

Now I wouldn't post this because I don't want people to think I'm going to commit suicide. But then I've realized its useless, everyone thinks everything no matter what you do. The only way to remain blameless is to do nothing, and if you do that too much then you're stuck with yourself.

I need to sever the tie between thought and reflection.

For the bell jar is round. Once you're in it you never really get out.

I am mildly annoyed with the amount of work I have.
Which as it stands is still one more econs essay.

ANYWAY HI WEIXIAN.
I'm so sorry really I fell asleep on the couch and woke up at 2 and grumpily realized that I still had a fuckload of work. Besides paraphrasing your own essay is torture worthy of the 9th level of hell.

Next. The twit who gave my home number to blaps (which I suspect is either hadri or hadri) is going to burn in hell. Oh wait. Hadri you're pretty much on the road anyway. Bzzbzz.

School is so boring and useless. I should continue staying at home and finish up all my work. But what to do must be in school by friday.

Little snippets of thoughts in my mind.

There was this really really cute little girl in my grandaunt's house today. She's her granddaughter and she's really adorable, she toddles around the house screaming and playing with her toy washing machine. She's also got lovely golden hair, (she's mixed) which she refuses to tie up so she can playfully push it back with the back of her hand.

And then yixun popped into my mind. heehee.

So I was thinking how sad life must be for paedophiles. To be unable to appreciate simple, innocent beauty that is untainted by sex. It must be a horrible curse, to look at a child and not be able to envy the simple, carefree life that she endures, but to attribute her every action to seduction. (which is their excuse, the twits say they want to debunk the myth that children are not sexual creatures, I think I saw it in CSI.)
For in children, it is given that beauty is divorced from sexual attractiveness. They are endearing in a simple yet timeless way. It is a pity that they grow up wanting to flaunt their sexuality in the end.

I unfortunately envision her in the future as a maneater.

(not that yixun is really a paedophile actually, I'd like to think that what he sees in little boys/girls is their innocence and carefree qualities. But don't take my word for it ;)

I am mildly amused.

Having lost 12 dollars at tancheewan's house which seems to be an inexorcisable curse every chinese new year, I was prepared to grouch at home and grumble about how I only received 50 this year from my parents.
Then this bunch of old ladies came over to visit my mother. People from church. So anyway, they decided to play blackjack, and my mother asked me to join in. So on my first round as dealer, I opened up with double ace.

And that was how I won all 12 dollars back from the old aunties. Ah, providence.

Shall go read bell jar again. Must finish essay

Sometimes when I'm alone and nothing happens, I can almost feel the present crushing me like a trundling tank. When I think too much about when exactly is now. Time slipping by just as I try to define it. It feels as if time has left me behind and the world has moved on, my temporal body ripped from the physical universe.

What happens to the past? This may sound very 1984-Orwellish as well, but really, is the past nothing but a collection of memories? It's very unsettling, to know that right now, you only exist now. That if time chose to forget you, you would cease to exist.

What if all you've experienced is the narrow present?

What's unsettling is not so much the disappearance, but the clean lack of any remaining mark left behind. The temporal loss of permanence

Let's not dramatize this. Nor trivialize it. For once this is important, and must be given precise due attention.

I can honestly say I'll miss suwee. And thats as far as words will bring me. Memories are all we have anyway. Memories and emotions that come with their recollection. I suppose its a good thing then, that the face I often recall is that of her smiling.

Existence trundles along. The present crushes you like a grinding tank.

Bye suwee. We miss you. Come back in April =)

Save me from what I've become.
And other assorted cliches.

Had chat with veluri yesterday. Am quite thankful it wasn't naggy scolding. Nothing I don't already know I guess, but its good to be reminded once in a while. I've always needed to be pushed out of subsistence.

I had an idea for a post but somehow it got washed away in the endless meanderings of my mind. Oh-wells.

I think I just wanted to say how lost I am. I haven't ever opened up fully and I never will, because I don't know who to trust. I'm not as gullible as I appear, given time. I feel like I need to watch everyone all the time. I'm thankful for that sturdy base which I know I can always fall back on. And I'm sorry if it appears to be the part i trample on the most while aspiring higher.

Its oppressive this silence. You all. Are.

Its a pity that the common thread that connects us is precisely what I would not have applied to myself. I have only myself to blame, skirting around the edge only to have fallen in to the mindless pit of superficiality.

I need to find my wavelength. Before I scramble up my brain. Before your silence consumes me into mediocrity.

It isn't true that no one understands. We just need to appreciate the different levels.

Aiyaa. Have I mentioned how old this thing is getting.

An active exercise in self-censorship. To make sure what you say is safely what you portray.

Since I'm bored.
Here's a little something for the girls in my class.
ESPECIALLY clara. Girl please eat.

Aii I wish we had the humans teachers.
Old gripe same complaint. Jealousy surfaces once again.

Anyway yeah had this really interesting lecture on poetry on friday. Then choc buffet at fullerton! But like I said I'm not here to tell you what I ate for dinner.
Also have to see Veluri on Monday. Suspect self to be in plenty of trouble again. Sucks I tellya.

But I'd really like to say in my defence that I'm not a bad student! Gah. Its not as though I have absolutely no interest in whatever subjects that I'm studying, its just that I don't find class engaging and charged enough. And so I gravitate to other more happening places. I mean. Class is so dull the silence is oppresive sometimes. Not just oppressive, in it I hear a faint echo of me and Ben Moh arguing in the distance. Not too far away, still not too long ago.

It's just jaded. Reawaken the instinct

Okay that's it. Tagboard is down for maintenence.
=)
Have a nice day.

HI BLAPS!
I know you're at home now reading this in the comfort of your toilet thanks to your wireless monitor and whatnot.

Aye this is so traumatizing (and myblastedspacebar is still occasionally spoilt). My CT reads our blogs lah oh my god. Heehee wait till he sees BC's. Hoohoohoo.

Marginalize me!

Ugh. As to whoever it is on the tagboard. Get a life. No seriously. If not at least go tag your nonsense on darling lianne's blog, its http://princessli-.blogspot.com.

Perhaps it is time. Ready or not world here I come.