Tuesday, October 09, 2007
http://princesspurly.blogspot.com/
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:35 AM
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Saturday, August 11, 2007
i loathe you so much you prick.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:35 AM
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Sunday, August 05, 2007
For the love of my life
You saturate my universe-
with the smell of your skin
and on mine your lips
the taste of the promises and hopes and lies you utter into my hair,
laughter and passions we used to share -
the way you hold me and then tell me you don't believe in love.
You saturate my universe -
with the everything you are that i crave,
.and no longer crave,
with a constant unrequited craving for reconciliation, waiting.
with misunderstandings, dismissals, verbal abuse,
with disappointment.
I hate you, you motherfucken bastard.
love is completely useless. romantics use its temporary insanity and blindness to shield themselves from a realistic world. the real world is filled with hate and contempt. Pain, anger, loathing, grit in your teeth, the heat from the scratches you drag across your burning skin. It wakes you up from your embarrassing slumber, it threatens to crush your insides. the real world is filled with insensitive pricks who cannot and will not see pass their own atrocities and be convinced that you are a person with feelings and with your own individualistic limitations and ideas. but once you fall in love, your capacity to forgive expands. your world widens and flattens in a blurry two-dimensional manner. you let him treat you like shit for years, and allow his apologies and negligence become a norm, a fact that you just HAVE to live with. love makes you rely on someone who is never going to be there, someone who postpones your life to make room for his, who compromises your feelings and closure and comprehension of ridiculous situations that wouldn't even have come up if you hadn't let yourself become vulnerable.
love ends up hurting you even more. makes you bitter about anything else out there in the world. it fucks up your hopes and beliefs, your dreams and an imagined future smashed to bits over and over again- but love will let you repair it with two hours of stolen bliss. it doesn't occur to you that your bliss has always been stolen, begged for, achieved - never given to you, never ever for you to take for granted - it has never been yours. stolen because you have always been a taboo, u were never allowed to be in his life the way you long to be. and even when you thought u had worked your way inside, you just realize there are some things that he doesn't make worth fighting for anymore.
im so fucking sick and tired of your dismissals, your insensitive accusations, your lack of acknowledgment of what EXACTLY i need from you.
but i doubt you give a shit. you just need to sleep, you need to distance yourself from me, you need to move away, you need to do everything on your own terms, you need to not factor me in your life in any real way - you keep me on the outskirts, telling me of false possibilities, promises that you would treat me differently, better.
its been years.
i wish i had never given you the power to persistently break my heart and mend it again to walk over all over it the next day.
and you have no clue about what the pain does to me. it shrinks my version and mind, it dims the world, i completely lose my sense of self.
what am i going to do for the next 5 years? how can you have barged into my life 4 years ago repeatedly telling me you want to spend the rest of your life with me and still dangle me at such a distance.
i wish i never met you.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:02 PM
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Wednesday, August 01, 2007
sometimes i wish you didnt exist.
at least someone would want to help me get over this inexplicable craziness.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:49 PM
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Sunday, July 22, 2007
"She's nervous about seeing Blue. She keeps holding on to some earlier memory of him in the belief that his essence remains. She had thought he simply needed the right loving hands to peel away the ugly veils and reveal his spirit, but she's no longer sure if she believes in the idea of some essential core, some aspect of self which remains relatively stable and true. If enough worms eat their way through an apple, they will get to its core: they will gnaw away its pithy centre and the whole structure will ultimately collapse, decompose, and become dirt. He might look the same, but then again, you can bite into an apple and find it full of maggots. You can kiss a princess and she turns into a frog. You can fall in love with an illusion that crumbles before you in some unexpected moment - through a simple gesture, a smell, or a misplaced word. You learn that earth is actually heaven, which means that your only options after death are purgatory or hell. A sweeping tour of all the major religions leave you disillusioned, and suddenly you cease to be a believer in anything at all" - Camilla Gibb, 2002.
yet sometimes i find that cynicism and pessimism are merely shields for sore, bruised spots. masks that camouflage the fears that threaten to destroy and desecrate one's passionate beliefs and hopes.
on the other hand, sometimes believing just gets too hard.
god lets you down. people let you down, they change, or refuse to. Or maybe you were just too blind and disillusioned to see that they were never who you thought they were. identities shift, as does dreams, hopes, understandings of the world, like liquid, filling up the molds you surround yourself with. sometimes it gets so confusing.
then shit just happens. or something unexpectedly pleasant comes along.
both of which calls for some sort of coping mechanism.
who is god anyway?
or the persons you are and love?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:38 PM
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Saturday, May 26, 2007
embrace sappiness:)
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:04 AM
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Saturday, May 19, 2007
"love must surely reside in the gap between desire and fulfillment, in the lack, not the contentment. Love was the ache, the anticipation, the retreat, everything around it but the emotion itself" - Desai, The Inheritance of Loss
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:43 AM
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Monday, May 14, 2007
how many times is this going to happen again?
you wake me up, tell me to get out of bed to call you just to make sure i can hear your stories of the lack of time and weariness clearly, and then impatiently insist you have to go within the range of 2-15 minutes.
how many times is this going to happen again?
i rely on your useless, random msges, phone calls that come once or twice a day or less. or a mere response. don't make promises you cant keep. and you get angry that we talk but i dont tell you everything. fuck you. what do you think i am?
how many times is this going to happen again?
for your sake and complaints we urge you to take it easy and you say yes you will work on it. and then the next day i get screamed at for not understanding you needed the money.
how many times is this going to happen again?
i am just sick and tired of caring. i will never ever understand how you handle things when i just see so many other options. logical ones. not your offensive and dismissive comments about me being "too emotional". maybe i should get going.
you dont have to be intentionally mean to be an asshole/jerk. you just have to not care enough. but then again. who can blame you for not caring enough right?
it's just bloody old me.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:29 AM
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Tuesday, April 24, 2007
maybe i need pain.
maybe because pain is the one thing that reminds me that i am still alive.
i dont know why i want this love that isnt meant to be mine. ive never been one to resist the flow of things, but not having what i want drives me crazy. i want to peel my skin off my bones, lick them clean and show you, im alive.. because of the pain you give to me.
but i dont feel like i have lost my head. in fact, it is the very rationality that makes this pain an itch i cannot scratch, an growing tumor inside of me no radioactive process can remove.
maybe i am a masochist. i beg for you to hurt me.
every second i grow more aware of how much i hate myself for doing everything i do, the more i need you to hold me. but loathing does nothing with you. you turn your head, and walk away from the glare of my anger, oblivious to the fact that it is the very thing that stokes it, makes the flames rise to my eyes as a mess of disappointments and failures.
just like you want me to be something i am not,
you are not willing to be what i wish you could be.
i am in love with the potentiality of you.
and you are in love with the memory of me and not what i want to become in your eyes.
i question my dispoablitity in your life.
its strange how its not longer about assurance.. or self esteem. or men.
i just want you to be mine. and ironically it is its impossibility that spurs my insistence.
perhaps because i believe you are the love of my life?
or maybe i just dont beleive in love anymore.
i just hate being abandoned... by you.
and it is this pain that remains.
if only i can hire my own assasin.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 2:22 PM
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Sunday, April 15, 2007
"love ain't supposed to feel this way
.
.
I don't know why i spend so much time,
On a love that isn't mine." - Trey Songz
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:16 PM
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Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Why Can't I?"
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you
It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it
So tell me
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:31 PM
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Monday, February 19, 2007
cool picture
lol
so sweet..
i could hardly blame cupid for doing so
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:46 PM
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Wednesday, February 07, 2007
i was on facebook.com again.. yesyes.. i know how unconstructive and useless it is.. but then i stumbled across a discussion board with the title "Penises are Gross" when i joined the group "no abstinance, just sex education"... and in the disucssion.. you would asume that it would be amusing and the people would be comparing the different genitalia of human beings. but this was not so. instead, you have women talking about how (heterosexual) sex is still important and they are just sitting on their asses waiting for the right penis to pop up and prove them wrong. this pisses me off!!
why?
because if you want to join a group called "penises are gross".. say it with conviction! and mean it. dont just sit around discussing the false notion of the heterosexual soul mate who is also good in bed. thats close to being impossible. its usually either or. physcologicaly satisfaction.. or physical gratification. whoever is experience both simultaneously oconsistently.. u have my utmost respect and envy.
wait. i have nothing against penises at all. quite the contrary actually. i just hate how women are constantly dreaming about the perfect guy, thier prince in shinning armour to come save them from thier misery. while (most) men would never complain about how vaginas are gross.. actually any one is good! and anything else that makes the women merely increases the value of that sepcific vagaina. and everywhere i go i hear about women moaning and groaning about the lack of intimacy and love. FUCK THAT.
and then another part of the discussion was about how most women have been brought up to feel that they have inherently filthy bodies. there are always things about themselves to keep disclosed and hidden, because it is only inappropriate and unpleasant. tell me about it. i still see it at home, i hear it, i feel it.. and it pisses me off! how is it that boys are allowed to have farting, burping contests, long discussions about taking a dump, openly scratch their balls with filthy nails, and walk around with a face full of acne without shame. and on the other hand, women walk around... AT LEAST 25% of thier lives defined by the concept of shame. how unfair.
thank god for the growing population of "metrosexuals".
anyways gotta run. :)
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:09 PM
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Friday, February 02, 2007
today i woke up to a heaviness in the heart.
(even though it feels more like the chest, diapraghm, the stomach - it seems to have become the phantom space the heart has been assigned to dominate)
i miss you.
(i know i should not, i hear your voice on the line every morning, i still hold your hands sometimes and you tell me you love me)
but i remember the taste of your skin, the faint coloured dust i carefully shaded onto your wall.
it seems, these days, pointless for any form of romanticization, for beauty to be softened, lovingly moudled and melted into into strawberry flavoured plams.
sticky sweetness, caught in your hair, your eyelashes.
it becomes a burden, theories of love, theories of broken normalcy, telling you that you are wrong. you
are
wrong. everything you know is
wrong.
right when you thought you had it all figured out. you inhale books written on pyschology, sociology, the science of politics, the science of your spleen, the ugliness of your spirit, your obnoxious ego, the contradictions of your mirrored self, the politics in the very language, the medium of your thoughts. everything you know is really not
what it seems.
anger arises, where the heart is. it feels cheated, lied to, disappointed in your very own gullibility, your vision framed by the black arms of prada. how could i have believed it was all true?
love is wrong. love you believe in is wrong.
so you close the door on yourself.
stop.
(just)
stop.
today i woke up to a heaviness in the heart.
i miss you
i miss the conviction i had in dreams of our entanglement, your cinamon finger tips and what i thought we could have been.
(but of course, it had been
silly
of me).
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:21 AM
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Thursday, December 07, 2006
he could be that boy -
but i am not that girl.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:21 AM
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Saturday, December 02, 2006
"waiting, waiting, waiting
waiting for him to make a move.
Doesn't he know
He's gonna be my salvation?
It's lovely that he is caring, compassionate, and politically correct
but I need him to kiss me right now." - film adaptation of Prozac Nation
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 7:55 PM
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Tuesday, November 28, 2006
there comes a time when you realize you simply cannot go do something ever again.
months have passed, i thought i was doing so well.. i thought i was coping just fine, that i'll be alright.. i wasn't even thinking about it that much anymore.... a little time would fix any emotional ailment.. i might even have found a good landing strip...
i thought it would be a phase like any other... heartbreak was typical and inevitable, and hence supposed to be inconsequential, temporary and bearable. i had vowed never to let boys do anything to me, that love is merely a false compromise between stability and happiness. the only irony now is that i am (still) devastated to find out i was right.
for the past 3 years, i loved him obsessively, my world evolved around the perpetual cycle of having and not having, the whole time immersed in a constant ache for something concrete, the same promises and dreams etched into the lines along our palms. i never knew how much i needed and wanted until i let him become my ever shifting shoreline - i never knew exactly where and when i could land and remain.
i am (still) very angry, to feel completely cheated and ostracized and rejected for the superficial facts that make me. dare i call it racism? dare i say i do not deserve this bullshit? dare i proclaim its hypocrisy in valuing labels over human autonomy? there had been no room or time for growth, learning, compromise. and now you tell me you had never understood me for even more reasons.
nothing could leave me more defeated.
was it all a waste of time? emotions and energy fed to the wind to fuel the storm this morning? but you heard it on the news, and only felt the drizzle of rain on your skin.
you still don't understand me.
and i am letting go.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 4:06 PM
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Wednesday, August 30, 2006
If You Can't Say Something Nice, Don't Say Anything At All - Margaret Atwood, Dropped Threads 1
read it.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:22 AM
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Saturday, August 26, 2006
Augusten Borroughs on couple-cohabitation and magical thinking:
" Have i given up anything by living with another person? Has there been a trade off? Always, there is a trade-off. And the answer comes to me instantly. i have given up a certain degree of freedom. the ability to plow through my life with utter disregard for the thoughts and feelings of other people. I can no longer read a magazine and throw it on the floor.
In exchange, i get unlimited acess to the one person i have met in my life whom i automatically felt was out of my league. My favourtite human being, the single person i cherish above all others. This is the person i get to share the oxygen in the room with.
And for this, i will happily scrub the toilet. And i won't make fun of anybody who drives an SUV. Unless of course, they really desearve it. And I'll try to let things happen. Not always feel like i have to control everything.
With the exception of those things i can control, that is, with my mind." - Magical Thinking
a wonderful ending to a hilariously appalling book.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:16 AM
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Wednesday, August 16, 2006
oh, love.
" You thought you had it all figured out. You thought you were over him but now here he is again, sitting down at your kitchen table, saying, I've missed you, I've changed, you know you can trust me.
What you do know, within these ten minutes, is that you are willing to do absolutely anthing for him. You also know that you are going to give him another chance and he is going to hurt you again"
- Diane Schoemperlen, In a Dark Season
one of my favourite authors.
maybe one day i'll write like her.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:07 PM
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Thursday, August 10, 2006
why do i love in despair?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:57 PM
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Tuesday, August 08, 2006
so much pretense.
pretend.
f.a.k.e. - - smells like artificial fur. tastes like polyester.
p.v.c. leather - pleather - for s.k.i.n. i cant feel anything.
our [s .p .a .c .e .g .r .o .w .s as the cicadas call for love----> ] still.
now, what?
who? how. owh. woh. ohw. owh. hwo. who? how. what?
i miss yoU.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:00 AM
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Monday, August 07, 2006
Under the weight of your wings, you are a god and whatever i want you to be.
I make believe you've got all that i need.
some of the random usless things i made...
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:16 PM
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Sunday, August 06, 2006
this is another rant:
i am sick and tired of people cateogrizing feminists into a small, fixed iditoic box in which only those who are unable to assimilate into this shitty sexist racist society completely would qualify. people are so blinded by all the bullshit stereotypes and rigid rules that they simply are toooooooo fucking retarded to find out that feminism.. isnt about lesbains, it isn a commmunity of only WOMEN. we aren't butches, we arent fat ugly women who cant get men( and trust me.. i think those who get away from wanting anyone are the only ones who have reached nirvana), neither are we trolls who prance the street and burn bras(why would we? if it wasnt an act of defiance? bras provide faboulous support u know.) and are man haters... when infact being a feminist merely means being someone who supports equality, for all (men included... men and women of alllllll cultures and races and what not. but of course, there is no such thing as race or nationality).
for example,(as a young woman)
if i like wearing makeup, it doesnt make me less of a feminist. i just have a soft spot for wanting to look desireable.. whether or not the mainstream idea of what beauty is is mostly defined by men. it doesnt mean that i dont support equality.
if i love men, i have sex with them and i fuck around. it doesnt make me less of a feminist. neither does it make me a whore, slut, while men are studs, casonovas... i just enjoy what most prudes are too afraid to enjoy. not to mention, being sexually active and unbashed is a form of resistance, as long as i dont go on international tv and celebrate what mass media would make me into.
if i wear tight jeans, to show off the nice ass i got from the gym, it doesnt make me less of a feminist. i just like the occasional attention. i mean, DONT FUCKING BLAME US if we have been brought up in a certain way to lik certain things. maybe not everyone has the bloody courage to change so completely. it does NOT imply that i do not believe in equality .
if i get married and have babies, own a nice picket fence and a golden retriver, it doesnt make me less of a feminist. i just happen to find someone i love(who simply happens to be male), and if i CHOOSE to stay at home, look after my babies and cook food, it doesnt imply i do not believe in equality. i merely enjoy doing what i do. and as long as i am fully appreciated, i choose to do what i want to do. isnt equality about choice?
if i have a lifestyle that never inspired me to think about feminism, per se... doesnt make me less of a femninist as long as i beleive in equality. so what if i had a lucky privileged life? does it mean i must feel guilty and ashamed of what i had because of my "lack of experience"? as long as i posess empathy, dont put me down.
also, i do not understand why women ahve to do allt he changing around here.. like.. not wearing skirts.. not wearing makeup.. not having children.. not having this not having tat.. like there is an economy of how much women are supposed to have or not have... while men sit on their big fat "masculine" asses with pants, not caring for the kids.. waving their big paycheques around(because they wont have as many family problems as women).. and so on.. the only change being that they ahve to start proclaiming that they support their women. like WHAT THE FUCK?
i am VERY VERY sick and tired of idiotic men insisting that since women have this now.. therefore men should have that as well. fucking idiots dont even realise that everything people talk about.. everything people study.. everything people do... is already centered their penises. everrrrryyythinggg done is done on their terms...or in relation to them. but alll they really do is just sit ont heir asses.. continue saying that they believe in equality.. do nothing else and insist everything must be exactly the same. its like telling the black person to pretend slavery didnt ever happen. what is this? historical amnesia?
if thats the case then, how come people dont group each other by the size of their ears? or noses? why create a whole hooha with a load of bullshit based on genitals? or skin colour?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:07 AM
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Saturday, August 05, 2006
i've been so occupied with real life i have forgotten to look for beauty.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:15 AM
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Wednesday, August 02, 2006
this blog has been left alone for too long. i ought to blabber some insanity at 3am in the morning just to justify its meaningless existence.
maybe i could use my upcoming 20th birthday as an occasion. what happened to the good days when everything would be grabbed and made into an excuse to celebrate. valentines' day, christmas, new year, then chinese new year, then hari raya, then thursday morning, birthdays, aniversaries, etc. now they are merely seen as a way for consummerism's menacing hands to curl its swiney fingers around people's money and lives.. OR they just return to their original state of being useless, meaningless, tiresome days..... to match the monotony of my insiginificant life. or maybe im just bored out of my mind. and angry about it.
so.. do something about it. the most irritating offhanded, uninterested remark ever received by yours truly. oh i will, thank you very much. since i intentionally made it that way. please note the sarcasm of my words, and the very unhidden agenda of wanting to serverly fracture the skull of whoever says it to me with my very bare fists (and a handy brick wall). at first it made me sad, i felt unwanted, stupid, useless( not that i am not of course), but another part of me felt patronized, put down, insulted, dismissed, and therefore furious. maybe i had just made the mistake of believing in compassion and understanding in certain people.
as always, im always wrong. (note sarcasm has not yet ended)
i am dully aware that i am becoming incoherent.. and im sure to find some laughs in my rational state in the day when i do read this again.. (even though i have been accused for being irrational.... as the person i am). regardless.. i am enjoying this completely unedited rambling... considering i have yet to do anything of this sort for the past 4-5 months or so. maybe even longer. i dont know.
anyways back to me being furious. why do i get furious? how come anger is such a familiar flare in the pit of my stomach yet it bothers me so. desensitization doesnt occur all the time, particularly when it comes to anger. saddness... joy... yes. but rage still Burns. with a capital B.
i believe that it is mostly induced, or rather, casused, indirectly by the expectations and assumptions i make about people, especially the ones i hold dear. i would now see it as self-centredness on my part, to seek sympathy and understanding from someone else just as self centered. explanations, justifications, clarifications fly by the ears of the feigned listenter. reciprocity(of better things, not self centreredenss) does occur.. once in a while. many times however, big words, large oblivious accusations are thrown around, resulting in repressed, unexpressed, slept off irritation and anger that urges me to stop breathing and just wither and die. just so i wont have to ever deal with shit like that again.
but of course. it would happen again soon enough.
why cant i just die?
maybe after my useless, ignored, insignificant birthday. at least then it would be official that i died at nice, beautiful age. at least ill be young forever. age is terrifying. i decided i wont want to live past 45. espcially if by then i am not accomplished, elegant and perfect. it would be too vile to imagine if i am not. really and truly.
no one understands so many of the fears i have. yet they are so true. happens everywhere.. but everyones just denying the fact that LIFE IS FULL OF SHIT. instead, we spend our whole lives trying to find that something or someone special(after the godforsaken puberty) to serve as a disclaimer(if we havent already confirmed it somehow. my belief has just been continuedly renouced almost daily).
then, the funny thing is.. when we think we have found that someone of something.. we let them make our lives Burn, and vice versa. then we hold on to the sickly sweet gorgeous flawless days shared, adamant that all misery is temporary, the sickly cotton candy days are worth every bleeding heart, every reopened wound and every sleepless, Burning night. however, in the midst of hope and illusion, we fail to realise that hope only emerges together with miersy and the death of hope. ironically. just like how optimisim emerges the need to see the good in the shit thrown at us. and pessimism.. is merely seeing, in the good, how shitty things can get. because goodness = higher stakes = more chances to either fuck up or raise the stakes even more.
what happened to ambivalence?
how come no one talks about monotony, grey, dull hours, the in-betweens? no one talks about boredom, the looming nothingness of each second. the flat, dusty surfaces of life. are they not intersting? maybe the irony is.. by describing these things in a certain way... suddenly we are not merely describing the the thing we are describing. what we say suddenly becomes a stance, a position we simply must Choose in order to be comprehensible. am i being comprehensible? must we live in black and white, blue and red, roses and carnations, joyous and miserable, fucked up and blissed out, steady... and?
no room for in betweens.
or maybe we dont want them. after all, humanity rejoices in its fluctuating psyche. or am i just taught to beleive so?
well, my hands are getting tired. and i justwent on a strange rant to work of the Burning in my chest. although i barely said anything about what is exactly bothering me. i tend to lose myself in all the different Burns. its still there, but its now a orange glow of a discarded lit cigarrette butt floating on a ripple in a puddle by the road.
but the hate for my life..... has probably only begun. im only 20. i daresay i've got a good couple of decades to endure.. until maybe one day i'll grow some guts and initiated a change.
btw, as an end note. love sucks. i can almost hear the chorus of agreement of my immaginary audience. but goddammit, i want it too.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:28 AM
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Saturday, July 29, 2006
Tumble.
One day the world stopped turning,
turned inside out.
I lost my bearings,
and she lost her heart.
And as we were tumbling inside the void,
I heard the silence and I also heard them say...
Hey now, my dear,
don't you know we prayed for you,
when we went down and we're waiting up here till we meet again.
But until then....
Hey now, hello....
calling all angels,
to bring some comfort back to the earth,
and to hold her all through the storm,
when she's tired and overwhelmed,
broken,
and worn.
And it feels like the movies,
when we're on the ground,
and everything's not alright but somehow there's peace to be found.
One day the world started turning again.
I opened my eyes and I'm down one best friend.
And if you should see her at least tell her this...
Hey now, my dear,
don't you know I care for you?
And if your heart hurts,
it’s only for a lifetime,
then you rest.
And it feels like the movies,
when we're on the ground,
and everything's not alright but somehow there's peace to be found.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:50 AM
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Wednesday, June 28, 2006
"there was a sense of distance, disjunction, a sadness that seemed to flow from some irrevocable and inexpressive failure." - Island Walkers, John Bemrose
your oblivion scares me.
maybe i have failed.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 1:35 PM
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Saturday, June 10, 2006
feel like i dont want to be alone.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:41 AM
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Thursday, June 01, 2006
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:48 PM
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Wednesday, May 31, 2006
ultra racist pictures. they were real ads for Pear's soap during the colonialism period.
so so shocking.
another inspiring picture. but about patriarchial society. :) i love this one.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:47 PM
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Monday, May 22, 2006
the colour of today.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:55 PM
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Saturday, May 20, 2006
Your words are like knives
They peel my skin and pierce my soul
Your body will burn tonight
Though your heart may still remain cold
And I will blame myself
For holding onto what i hoped would keep you by my side.
I will blame myself
The sheets are stained with
Memories of your soft kiss
Now this is all I have
Paper and pen
to remember you with
Can I have you?
- Dallas Green, Like Knives
im not sure how to do this anymore.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:06 PM
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Friday, May 19, 2006
it seems most of us have problems defining the wispy line between true lover and soul mate. must a soul mate also be great lover? must the soulmate be The One? Who's The One? a person with whom we have a great affinity, or someone you are romantically attached to? must you love your soul mate? must we only have one?
there has always been that assumption that soulmates constituted mating. that is, most of us assume that our soulmate would compliment our sexuality. you hear it in flamouyant romances, accounts of "soul-fusing" sexual encounters, and in wedding speeches, great love declarations all the time, about single inviduals who somehow manage to successfully play all the roles he/she is generally expected to, and become the hotly sought after cliche : friend, soulmate, lover, partner, cleaner, waitress, waiter, etc. does having a perfect marriage, perfect life, great sex, mean you found your soul mate? or did you just find a perfect partner?
we dont hear much about the platonic relationships, deeply rooted friendships, simultaneously complex and simple bonds between people, true understanding that does not require worry about sexual preferences, or romantic love. Are these people we hold so dear to us(and we dont even consider having sex with) our soulmates too?
heterosexuals appear to be the only ones allowed to even entertain this idea. well, we do know religion has done its trickery on most people .. so have olden greek legends about hermaphrodites, and even modern romance harlequin novels and movies that falsely romanticize man-woman relationships.it makes me wonder... if having a soulmate is a priviledge given only to hetereosexuals... is it just another one of those ridiculous stories used to socialize our sexuality?
another belief holds that we only have ONE soulmate lurking somewhere out there.. and that there is one for everyone. this thought is horrifying. what if we cant find him/her? what happens then? are we lost souls who wander the planet incomplete, a soul without its supposed companion? i simply do not accept this notion. it is simply too cruel, too narrow... inflexible. afterall, are we not creative humanbeings with our wonderful variety and multiplicities? wouldnt that mean the permutation of our intricate qualities, personal understandings, bring so many possibilities instead?
besides, what IS a soul mate really? are there different types? varieties in the type of soulmate a person can have? are soulmates default... or can we grow them? a dash or fertile soil, a sprinkle of seeds of potential, occasional rain, and a sweet hearted gardener.. wouldnt that work? and can soulmates lose a connection.. due to tragic experiences, disasters? "happily ever after" implies permanency.. but then how come collisions happen even to the best of us? no one ever talked about cinderella burning the toast once too often, or snow white getting a tan, or jasmine wishing aladin would go work, or beauty hating how her prince leaves the castle so much due to business trips, or Ken staring at the newer barbies.
do soulmates belong together? or can soul mates be apart, just being a part of each other?
.....
during my racism class on thursday, i learnt that being cunning was attributed to the chinese stereotype. it somehow shocked me, although i know it shouldnt, to be reminded that people around you are constantly taking in how you look, what you have and who you talk to, what you do, and insist everything that makes you YOU, physically and inside..MUST cohere. it also shocked me to hear something so absurd and almost foreign. Is that me? Is that us? Who is us?
i have always been aware of racism, sexism and other random crap tha social science has taught me, but at the moment of hearing it, i finally understood. i didnt feel defensive, or smug, or suddenly hating myself for having belong to a certain ethnicity. it just hit me in that very instant, that hey, its an inevitable part of me, and of every single one of us. not just in books, the black and white war, not just on tv, ur angry groccer, ur feelings of injustice and embarassment. these ideas, language, our life experiences are the very things that shape our flesh, calls us into existence. its name.. racism, whatever -ism. is just there. named, or not.
and must be fixed.
....
someone recently told me i had a very systematic life. highly structured, everything neatly placed. emotions here, brains here, actions here, and how. it was suprising.. to hear that. i always felt i was in a mess, everything i did was a mess, i am a mess in itself. confused, jumbled, worthless and scattered. emotions and all, everything was a huge mixed puddle of splatters of different paint.
maybe i let my emotions tell me more than they should.
....
i have plenty more to say.. i dont know why.. im tired, worn and my heart and head hurts. ill continue another time..
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:43 PM
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no more.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:47 PM
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Thursday, May 18, 2006
colour of today.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 2:53 PM
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Wednesday, May 17, 2006
now.. where did i put my drugs...?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 2:28 PM
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Monday, May 15, 2006
im getting fed up with this pretend-love bullshit. romance, girly(note the gender) mushie ooshie stories, experiences are all simulated, lies, illusions. propaganda for men or women(and heterosexuality) which/who do(es) not exist, the notion of the soul mate merely an apparition, a false destination that is permanently out of reach. a smiling ghost that mocks at you every time you notice its lack of tangibility.
people/i find themselves "incomplete", lonely, sad when they/i are/am left on their/my own. suddenly the world seems to empty and dull, its essence slowly and torturously gouged out layer by layer using some heated icecream scoop to be served chilled for another's pleasure. the ruby from raspberry sherbet loses its colour, with a generous dash of desertion, desperation and neglect. not to mention what other emotions and irrational actions that would invoke.
why do we/i let these pretenses and lies get us/me down... or even up?
...
i remember the first time a boy made me cry. it was strange but the only reason why i did it was because it felt appropriate. i didnt want to cry, i was not as upset as he was, i couldnt care enough. i was fine. who cares? but after heaving a book into his skinny, adolescent chest, i learnt that hurting is one of the ways to show you actually care. but i couldnt physically smash his face in for making me feel like shit. so i cried.
i didnt believe in love then. sex, thankfully was not yet in the equation. boys were fun company. i liked their lack of restraint, their coarse yet innocent taking up of what was supposed to be masculine... until i did it better than them with a nice punch in the stomach. they were easy going, less complicated. and besides, i was obligated to like boys with penises. which of course, i do. but like i said, that was all i knew then. i was convinced love was a coverup for hurting one another, selfishness, possessiveness, financial obligations, monogamy, and fake family values. tears were silly, a sign of weakness (=emotionality), girlishness. oh how i hated girls back then. useless little long haired helpless brats with pink mary janes and tears. and then that one day i mentioned above, i felt that helplessness. i became weak. i became a girl. suddenly i needed that love coverup.
now, the act of crying is alot simpler. most of the thought process is gone. just like how those dogs salivate at the ringing of the bells, for me hurt = tears. and there is hardly anything i can do to stop it anymore. in the name of this thing called love.
then came sex. because love makes us weak, susceptible to any form of tenderness and heightened intimacy, not to mention the mysterious hype surrounding it. to be clear, sex here means anything physically personal most of the people reading this blog would already have had experience with. for me, there was no mystery. i had the mindset of just figuring out how things are supposed to work. emotional attachment..? none. it was like the first time i played pool, drank beer, took the bus on my own. I felt a little excited only because i was doing it, and finally getting to see what it does. for a few years it did nothing for me. Apparently sex was supposed be part of love. part of the beauty of being stupidly vulnerable and close to your lover. but how come there was no fulfillment, satisfaction or even that much fun? most of the times it was awkward, ticklish and strange. all i knew it made things even complicated. little did i know in exchange for the awkwardness and the lack of fun for emotional attachment and good stuff, it would get even more complicated with investments, emotional/physical stock markets and so on. Even with extreme methods of contraception thanks to modern technology, is sex ever safe?
Now I am in love! I ride on the waves of endorphins, I yearn for one person, one body. I let sorrys work their magic because I care so much I forget myself. I want him to be mine. MY raspberry sherbet. MY world. And I want to be HIS. Is this love? Or is it a coverup for hurting one another, selfishness, possessiveness, monogamy, loneliness and the socialized desire to find a soul mate, one who "completes" me?
During the downtimes, I revert to my cynicism, angry with myself for letting myself get so easily hurt. Disappointed. Hopeless. Weak. Silly. Wrong. Useless. Deserted. Even more lonely. Pathetic. I mean, arent parents made to feel like that all the time too?
I tell myself its my fault for believing the hype in the first place. And that I am just stupid to give in to such romanticized notions of living life and the relationships that form along the way. But im secretely hoping someone would tell me I am wrong.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:02 AM
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Friday, May 05, 2006
i falter.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 7:00 PM
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Saturday, April 22, 2006
We are doomed to choose, and with every choice, an irreparable loss.
The economy of having and not having; needing, wanting and then lacking
I guess that is what they mean when they say life isn't fair.
Receipts recording transactions can be found lodged somewhere in the cracks in my memory, and heart made of sand.
Somewhere in between here and where we were supposed to go,
I faltered and drifted away.
how do i love?
Take me home.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 4:05 PM
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Tuesday, April 18, 2006
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:06 PM
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Wednesday, March 29, 2006
hi, my name is sarah jessica parker. i wear couture every day and i spend 40,000 dollars on shoes alone in a year. i have my own column in the new york times which then became a book and it made me 25000 in a month. i own a cozy little apartment and i cannot cook. i only date boys who have houses in the hamptons or paris and have drivers who take them around in bentleys and i sleep with whomever i want. i am also popular and i party with the girls all the time. i have 3 best gal pals who are just like me. except one of them doesnt work at all, ones a pretigious PR and the other is a kick ass lawyer. life is good. and everyone wants to be like me.
...
yea, thats why idiots like me are addicted to sex and the city. she lives the fantasy life.. in my opinion.. of being cmpletely autonomous and as individualistc as she wants. there is no traditional push and pulls, no religion, no social pressure whatsoever(except not to wear scrunchies in public), nor does she need to watch her weight despite so much cake, martinis and junkfood. oh sigh, the jealousy.
then again, its the fantasy that keeps me watching.
the fantasy of being independent, carefree and confident, on a "chic" journey to find "all consumming, inconvinent, cant-live-without-you love". ironic thing is.. thats when the shit happens.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:03 AM
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Saturday, March 25, 2006
once again, on being beautiful.
everyday.
capulet and montague.
an ollldddd picture i took
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:15 AM
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http://www.julietmartin.com/ - simply genius!!
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:07 AM
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Monday, March 13, 2006
Random thoughts from 2:23pm - 2:55pm, 13th March 2006.
i have been told so many times that i might be asking too much out of life. the funny thing is.. that never struck me until yesterday, talking to ronald (r1). for a split second i experienced a jolt of dejavu, names of peole flooding my head, suddenly fully aware that was far from the first time it has been said to me.
i always considered that a good thing, a drive that might somehow land me into wonderful exciting spots. i remember telling myself since i was a little kid, that once i am 17/18, i would be carelessly unwise, nonchalant, seeking and moving from life's perk to another, happily wedged between understanding and mastering the world. but of course, things never happen as planned.
i am 2 years over due and im still waiting.
did i grow too fast that i missed those moments? did my desire to devour everything ironically caused me to miss my stop? or does the hurt and decaying self-worth come from nostalgia for something that never existed? or does it come from my helplessness and powerlessness, and struggle to suffocate myself and become someone else? the contradictions of my personality?
maybe it is just all my fault.
....
labels are thrown at me. i admit to one thing, beleive in another and i am called a hypocrite. i hate being the unpredictability of being in love, but i am in love with love. i call myself a feminist, but i worry about looking like a female fat ass. i scorn bimbos, but damm do i love those dior bracelets. superficiality. pretentiousness. people become means to an ends for each other. give each other labels, smile and pretend otherwise and use the labels for whatever reason.
....
what is love?
is love having no expectations or having them satisfied?
is love found in constant excitement and maintained novelty, or familiarity and reciprocity?
is love allowing to be hurt, or being allowed to hurt?
does love carry us through all the tough times, or is love about making each time good?
....
people tell me my thinking is gonna kill me soon enough. and i agree. we are but human, they say. flawed beings and bodies. then why make that ideal? why the concept of perfection? why do we judge? why do we bleed each other? a mechanism of control? what control? who? why?
why must i care? why would i bother? why do i fear? why do i cry? why do i laugh? why do i love? why do i dread? why do i anticipate? why can't i just be alone? why do i live?
why dont i want to live?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 2:15 PM
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Almost Doesn't Count - Brandy
Almost made you love me
Almost made you cry
Almost made you happy, baby
Didn't I didn't I
You almost had me thinkin
You were turned around
But everybody knows
Almost doesn't count
Almost heard you saying
You were finally free
What was always missing for you, baby
You found it in me
But you can't get to heaven
Half off the ground
Everybody knows
Almost doesn't count
I can't keep on lovin' you
One foot outside the door
I hear a funny hesitation
Of a heart that's never really sure
Can't keep on tryin'
If you're looking for more
Than all that I could give you
Than what you came here for
Gonna find me somebody
Not afraid to let go
Want a no doubt be there kind of man
You came real close
But everytime you built me up
You only let me down
And everybody knows
Almost doesn't count
Maybe you'll be sorry
Maybe you'll be cold
Maybe you'll come runnin' back, baby
From the cruel cruel world
Almost convince me
You're gonna stick around
But everybody knows
Almost doesn't count
So maybe I'll be here
Maybe I'll see ya 'round
That's the way it goes
Almost doesn't count
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:34 AM
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Tuesday, March 07, 2006
toss me into a whirl whenever you please.. and then leave me hanging.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:27 PM
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Saturday, March 04, 2006
this is what i call.... scanner art.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 2:57 PM
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i am back into my tori amos / skunk anansie / (old)alanis morrisette moods these days..
moody, angry, lonely and a tad helpless.
again.
anyway, who has time for this anyway?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:28 AM
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Hedonism - Skunk Anansie- gotta love her
I hope you're feeling happy now
I see you feel no pain at all it seems
I wonder what you're doin' now
I wonder if you think of me at all
Do you still play the same moves now
Or are those special moods
For someone else
I hope you're feeling happy now.
Just because you feel good
Doesn't make you right
Just because you feel good
Still want you here tonight
Does laughter still discover you
I see through all those smiles
That look so right
Do you still have the same friends now
To smoke away your
Problems and your life
Oh how do you remember
Me the one that made
You laugh until you cried
I hope you're feeling happy now
I wonder what you're doing now
I hope you're feeling happy now
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:18 AM
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Tuesday, February 28, 2006
on being beautiful today:
picture of uprising "it" model from FLARE magazine wearing a 5200dollar Chanel wool dress.
random cuttings for today:
came across them while i was looking through old magazines
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 6:25 PM
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Friday, February 24, 2006
welcome to the age of wonder woman:
the woman who is everything your fantasies encompass and more.
shes strong, she's superman's beautiful counterpart. she is an amazon goddess with a 22 inch waist,long muscled martial artistse legs - thanks to her wonderful personaltrainer and her hectic schedule of saving the world, glossy raven hair that cascade around her bronzed shoulders, courtesy of loreal hair studios and olay illuminating lotion respectively. she never leaves the house without her truth rope - a priceless family hierlom, custom cavali-made red knee-high patent leather stileto kick-ass boots, and limited edition earrings and reflective platnuim cuffs from tiffany that protect her from sparkling bolts of evil.
when superman goes out to work at the justice league tower in his immaculate amarni pleatless suit and dunhill briefcase, wonderwoman quickly cleans the house with superspeed, takes dinner out to taw and scribbles down a new delicious recipe, reads an intellecutal journal and the papers, spend quality time with superbaby(s),take a calming lavender scented bath, puts on her makeup, picks out a gorgeously flattering yet fashionable outfit that is both professional and subtly sexy, examines her perfectly manicured nails, kisses superbaby goodbye and gets to work perfectly on time.
at the tower, she asserts herself tactfully, climbs up to origianl committee, establishes fufilling bonds with her fellow superheros, make a few best friends she occasionally has tea and crossiants with and with whom she would confide in, gossip, have philosophical discussions, charm everyone with her playful sense of humor, save the world without a hair out of place. all in a days work.
back at home, wonderwoman puts dinner on the titanum stove, refreshes herself, plays with superbaby, changes into a comfy agent provocateur satin camisole set and does the laundry, spends relaxing evening flirting with superman over dinner and tiramisu for dessert, lovingly puts superbaby to bed and then have intense emotionally and physically satisfying sex with superman on their 4000 thread count sheets, after which she would write down poetry inspired by Lord Byron and endearingly draws a sketch of her sleeping lover before getting her 8 hours of enriching deep sleep.
Wonderwoman: the eptitome of female perfection in our society today. the modern woman who keeps a perfect household filled with gorgeous things, is a wonderful mother, makes delcious meals, looks immaculate, is an intellectual who is at the same time funny, charming, artsy, atheletic and beautiful. a woman who has found her perfect lover, her perfect best friends, and has mastered her workplace and world. nothing fazes her. nothing holds her back. she gives all of herself. nothing smudges her eyeliner. she is constantly happy, passionate, balanced. all with only 24 hours in each day. a woman who can do everythng. and has everything.
most of us modern woman-mortals have tried and failed. what now?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:02 PM
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Friday, February 17, 2006
And so it is.
i am still the same.
everyday, every week, every month,every year, i tell myself things will be different. i will change. i will make things different. i was so determined, on every new day, to finally shape my own world and make it rotate on the axis i choose. don't we all?
yet it would spin precariously out of our hands each time we thought we had a good hold on it. hoping it would be our under control, our manipulation, our very own measured pleasure... until we reach a certain point, also known as reality - breaking through a crakced surface to an ephiphany that our lives are not wholly independent of one another, we cannot always choose. not even what happens within ourselves.
what is this ephiphany? defeat or growing up?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 1:09 PM
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Tuesday, February 14, 2006
I am
repeatedly
folded into the empty, available hollows of your life.
and I let it be.
I still yearn,
to melt precariously into the bodies' crevices.
A heart dissolved in
tears.
blood.
words.
sex.
This liquid debris is
mellifluous, changing, shapeless.
charmingly silent –
Malleable,
the only way it can be.
The way I let it be.
-purl.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 5:12 PM
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Friday, February 10, 2006
the MOST beautiful love scene i have ever, ever read. the reconcilation of grief.
"There was very little that anyone could say to clarify what happened next. Nothing that would separate Sex from Love. Or Needs from Feelings.
Except perhaps no Watcher watched through Rahel's eyes. No one stared out of a window at the sea. Or a boat in the river. Or a passerby in the midst in a hat.
Except perhaps that it was a little cold. A little wet. But very quiet. The Air.
But what was there to say?
Only that there were tears. Only that Quietness and Emptiness fitted together like stacked spoons. Only that there was a snuffling in the hollows at the base of a lovely throat only that a hard honey colored shoulder had a semicircle of teeth marks on it. Only that they held each other close, long after it was over. Only that what they shared that night was not happiness, but hideous grief.
Only that one again they broke the Love Laws. That lay down who should be loved. And how. And how much." - Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things
the whole book is gorgeous and so moving.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:16 AM
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Monday, January 30, 2006
thanks to hilmi.. for telling me about this song.. i just adore it!
"So leave yourself intact
Cause I will be coming back.
In a phrase to cut these lips,
I love you.
The morning will come
In the press of every kiss
With your head upon my chest
Where I will annoy you
With every waking breath
Until you decide to wake up.
I earned through hope and faith
The curves around your face
That I'm the one you'll hold forever.
If morning never comes for either one of us,
Then this I pray to you wherever." - Coheed and Cambria, Wakeup.
its funny, this love business.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:13 PM
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Sunday, January 29, 2006
i am starting to get sad looking at models and other women in magazines that sutlely instruct us on what a woman is.. and what a woman/girl is supposed to look like. the more i look at them..in magazines.. on television.. on my computor screen.. the more i feel like the ugly, short, fat imposter who is trying to pull off the new "young woman/girl" look.. that has been trendy since human civilization apparently.. and failing miserably. i have days and moments i feel i have no right to actually even call myself a young woman... much less a little lady. im okay with girl.. coz it doesnt hold much.. just a young internally and externally shapeless female character waiting for the moment she finds a fitting mould.
its pathetic.. this body image frustration.. the constant plumment of self esteem over something so trival. i always thought ovaries made a woman.. not the length of her legs, the size of her "tits" and ass..perfectly tanned skin.. perfect eyebrows, perfect "feminine" clothing, a small perfectly proportional body, perfect hair that tumble and cascade over lovely shoulders. i never knew it would mean wishing i LOOK like someone else.. or having so many contradictions and problems rising from wearing a mini skirt and such fixed roles. nor did i know it also meant for the female sexuality to be under the control of society. (i am not saying the male sexuality isnt either.. but face it.. whoever thinks critically would get what i mean).. even without mentioning how "sexy" a woman is now defines her.
lets just talk about stereotypes... women are happily reduced to walking sizable body parts.. a fuckable moving object.. the men exclaiming and sweating over images of naked women... or how so damm "cute" a woman/girl is. coz the man's sexuality is apparently insatiable.. continuous, understandable. love comes later. whenever the man is ready. the level of her accomplishments and intelligence simply determines how valuable her "pussy" is. then maybe it MIGHT slavage a relationship when the poor woman becomes unattractive merely by aging. the guy, regardless of age, is the hungry increasing wise wolf on the prowl. on the other hand, women are supposed to take men for being themslves.. hence the complaint that hot women somehow end up with unworthy counterparts.. coz apparently the woman searches for love and personality.. she is supposedly emotional and understanding, nuturing, soft.. sex and the size of his joystick comes later.. coz if she puts it first.. she is immediately reduced to first her fuckable body parts.. and then to labels. the men get the words "stud" and women become "sluts".. simply because it is "unnatural" for a woman to be in touch with her sexuality. and because men are.. they are allowed to be assholes.. while society banishes the sluts.
then the stereotypes of the biological side of men and women. lets see.. the men sweat in expensive gyms to cultivate lickable abdomal muscles, they bleed from fights, they fart and laugh, they ejaculate and openly beg the women to swallow in magazines.. and somehow everyone applauds and take all that in stride. a shower, deoderant and colonge is optional buddies.. the manliness of your body secretions is aparently so sexy the women wil fall to their knees and kiss your filthy cowboy boots in hope of taking them home. on the contrary.. the women "glow", they ovulate and then bleed during their periods... the whole time frantically scrambling for "solutions" to mask it. there is an amazing array of products to make a woman smell like lialics, wine, crushed violets.. so she wont smell "funny".. so she isnt allowed to be human. during ovulation.. women are your fucking buddies.. their bodies "want" babies.. they splurge on ridiculous lingerie and makeup.. gym memberships to somehow maintain their lithe-ness without packing on "too much" muscle.. to seduce the "typically" wandering eyes of the men. and then.. on her period.. everything is hush hush.. we are supposed to shut up.. and pretend it doesnt happen.. coz its "disgusting" and a "hinderance". women run in and out of drugstores in shame, a pack of maxipads tucked discretely under their arms. the discussion of bodily functions of a woman is never allowed. well.. except for the overrated and exaggerated orgasm 62% of women admit to faking every now and then.
so.. whos allowed to be "themselves"? am i being myself? are you?
.. to be continued.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:46 AM
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Monday, January 23, 2006
been reading my old emails as i resisted the urge to laugh and cry at the same time. i wonder what happened in the middle. i always thought i am a consistent person.. am i? or maybe i have just grown to want and expect more? it sucks the most when happy past memories hurt now. you look at the debris lying around you. but then again.. we dont want to lose them. such contradictions. how will i ever learn to juggle magic and logic? the loss of myself?
i have spent mostof my day in bed.. just thinking, daydreaming, reading.. now and then dozing off to voices of musicians singing of worlds strange and familiar.
why did you mess with forever
i have to admit, i had wanted to give up. on everything. i wanted to give up because i knew i only had myself to blame for making myself a victim. it can only be my own fault for being lonely, angry, miserable. i asked for too much in too short a time. i sought to conquer a terrain i have absolutely not idea about. i did not plot and execute my plan accordingly. i was too impatient and emotional. now here i sit hours upon hours within the confines of my room too aware of what mistakes i made.
start over i guess. its been so long.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 3:05 PM
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Friday, January 20, 2006
this sudden injury. to have you go away.
love.the one thing i'd love to hate.
its strange a strange emotion, having to remind myself you are not within reach. i had thought you were far.. but this is a dull ache at the back of my head, my chest, my words. it is also strange how much i want you, how much i want to tell you.. the colours of the sky today, my thick comfy socks, my dreams.
maybe i miss u.
come back soon.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:36 PM
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Tuesday, January 17, 2006
i cant help but feel the urge to chasten myself for being the weepy old romantic i am, evident just from my blog - the celebration of the tortured soul that burns at the tip of a lover's tongue, a crushed aluminum can clattering noisely, but unnoticed, along the side of the road while cars speed by as frozen rain falls from the overcast sky.
fraility, mallability and softness were not attributes i would have celebrated a few years ago. what caused this change? what happened to the impenetrable heart, refusal for intamacy, my stiff, unwieldy desires? what happened to the petulant girl who fought fiercely for what she thought she believed in, regardless of who it hurt, just by the words being said. for a while she thought she did everything right, she got what she wanted, she thought she was a glowing inextinguishable light.
it would be easy and dull to say puberty happened. or maybe certain things had forced me to stop resisting softness, and to embrace my emotions, allow myself to be shaped and moulded, rather than to shape and mould. it is only natural, to do what is right and instructed. maybe i just let my "true self" through?
at this point, i find myself confused. how to i tell the story of a person? a person who has lived within me, as me, and is me. do i know myself best? or does someone else who knows my life?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:14 PM
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Friday, January 13, 2006
the light in your eyes dim,
your oblivious touch has become foreign and cold.
surely you cannot blame me for recoiling in unrecognition and hurt;
the words i say;
the words i dont.
i thought by numbing myself it would work, but im sick and tired of being so sick and tired, disappointed with my disappointment. hopeless with the absurd power you hold.
what fell through the cracks?
...
i feel like a great loser. nothing is turning out the way i hoped and imagined. i feel like a failure in every aspect of life. school, love, family, work, friends.. everything. i feel helplessly redundant, useless - a cumbersome and hideous outgrowth of society, my patheticness a slap in my face. i cant even bear to look in the mirror.
every day my faith burrows itself into the dirt a little bit more.
...
and there is no one to hold me anymore.
maybe i will just keep sinking.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:56 PM
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Saturday, January 07, 2006
careless.
you have become the greater world.
i stand,
ready to leap.
and perhaps,
fall.
...
why do the world behind our eye lids and the one we see differ so?
...
im slowly losing my mind.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:55 AM
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Monday, January 02, 2006
todays blog will include random responses to edwards blogs, given we havent spoken for months:
a mentor. why do we need one? a trusted teacher and counselor, a guide. why wouldnt we want to throw ourselves into life with abandon, relish in its unpredictability and suprises? to allow oursleves to gravitate toward worlds that pull at us with its inexplicable forces, and react the way we were "naturally" conditioned to? why are we the way we are?
why do we need justify, to rationalize, to know what is right and wrong, the thick, solid earth under the soles of our "caged" imaginations? do our imaginations even deserve to be called remarkable? or worthy? why do we feel the need to justify our tiny lives? the thoughts streaming from minds however big and small, yet so petty and inconsequential, only except to ourselves? why do we do what we do?
we ask for faith, a someone, something, to tell us what to do, how to do it and why. we refuse to consider the possibility that we are but insignificant. reasoning being the only excuse and purpose we have to multiply; and behave like the tiny giants we are, stomping on other lives, inventing crumbling walls made out of intangible commodities that somehow land and truly destroy, creating similar monsters that ravage and rape all that surrounds the ones in control, while perhaps the trascendent watch and chuckle. vapors of prayer swirlling up to their oblivious eyes, as we hang from their lips.
but who made right and wrong? who invented morals? the ones with money or the laughing gods? why do individuals find themselves tormented and confused, yearning for a role model? the other individual that we trust somehow represents all that is right and appropriate in our eyes. but whos eyes are we seeing through?
maybe, edward, while u find the absence jarring, my questioning is what messes me up. i dont know what i dont understand.
.
conrad's heart of darkness, the lord of the flies, the beach, oscar wilde, baudrillard, kristeva.. etc.. the books/writers(of whom i have happened to read, albeit a tiny number) who expose the replusiveness of man(to clarify, i mean humankind in generally, to establish my lean toward politically correctness).. especially the modern man. the stink of the rot and burning flesh discretely covered by expensive perfumes made from crushed plants, hidden by the fur made from squealing animals, the sound of bank machines, the cocking of guns, the pouding of acid rain and hail stones in a tropical country. optimisim, my friend, of which i am glad you still harbour, isnt even an option for me anymore. im just waiting for the day we explode and slaughter each other with sharp tree branches. :)
.....
i only want you to see me as the most beautiful girl in the world.
haha found this on msn.com:
Leo profile
Leo can be among the most arrogant, self-absorbed signs of the zodiac, but also among the most tender and generous. As the lion king of the cosmos, you are a force to be reckoned with — and you'd have it no other way. Full of ego and the insecurity that inevitably accompanies it, you demand respect. The successful Leo, however, learns how to command it. You thrive on the esteem of others, but privately your self-esteem wavers. A natural performer, you can be a powerhouse of creative talent, charisma and instinct. You crave the spotlight and take great pains to grace it. But as you mature, your opinion will grow more independent of others. You'll seek a quieter dignity and nobility, not unlike that of an elder statesperson. Great actors may begin by upstaging their colleagues, but they eventually let their art speak for itself. You'll come to view self-promotion as a crude distraction and get out of your own way. At that point, your devotion to longtime loyalists will overwhelm your temptation to indulge lusty flatterers. As life experience humanizes you, appearances will still matter, but they'll take a back seat to true feelings.
my mars+venus sign:(how frigheningly true)
Mars: capricorn
Venus: libra
You're driven, ambitious and tough. Serious about relationships, you play for keeps. Casual affairs and kinky play aren't your bag, baby.
Your Mars is in capricorn True, you have natural poise and reserve. But that shouldn't be interpreted as weakness. You need respect and you'll earn it — or else you'll leave. Your innate trustworthiness makes you a dependable mate who's willing and able to commit (even if it does take a while). You enjoy lots of wholesome sex — no one would accuse you of being kinky.
Your Venus is in libra Your natural state is to be in a relationship, and even when single you're always juggling prospects and options. You know how to treat your lovers well. They enjoy being with you because of your looks and sense of style. Underneath it all, however, you can be high-maintenance. You're likely to say whatever someone wants to hear in order to keep a relationship stable.
i kinda agree with it. :) finally one i can relate to. haha.
ill save my newyears speech for another time my shoulders arent hurting.
....
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:10 AM
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Saturday, December 24, 2005
now that we have come to the end of 2005, i will do the cliche of making a list.
who would have thought:
- i would be driving people around with a licence
- i am able to talk to strangers without any qualms when i am in the mood
- i find soft snow flakes on a not so cold morning pleasant
- i would succumb to wearing heels for more than 2 hours for the sake of vanity
- i would enjoy shovelling snow as the cold numbs me inside and out
- i would have to beg someone to love me the way i thought i should be
- i would make more friends in sg more than in canada while being in canada
- i would still be lonely
- i could work almost everyday for long and tiring hours at a sales job without breaking down so far
- working distracts me from my emotions, which then allows the illusion of rationality. or maybe engaging in the mainstream society is rationality?
- i would hate life and the world this much.
- i would love and want this much and not get it back
- i would find shopping as pathetic and superfiial consolation that ends up making me feel like shit anyhow
- i would still spend endless days alone, and still feel the impact of it
- i would bring in dough!
- i would realise i might never have you, nor everything i want
.. to be continued.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:24 PM
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Monday, December 12, 2005
i think you might be right, ronald, to say that im cursed.
cursed to either be stuck with someone i totally do not want to be stuck with, or wanting to be stuck with someone i cant have. at least, never in the present.
but sometimes i cant take the waiting.
what can i say. i do not regret anything. i would not say i would swap this hurt for moving on from one empty relationship to another, which i know i would do if i hadnt been truly stolen. the cliched search for the worshipper, the friend, the worshipped. the person i would clip wings on.
did i make a mistake u ask? perhaps i did, to have knowingly put myself in this position, and anticipating this explosion that nevertheless took me by suprise. maybe its my own fault that i cry hot tears of frustration so freely, my fists clenched so angrily like a disgruntled child who did not get what she wants, out of desperation, overwhelmed by disappointment. maybe it was my fault this was foreseen and i did nothing to prevent it. i cannot even deny my previous urge to give myself insurance, to hesitate and save myself. but i gave in one and a half years ago. what would i be if i had not?
i hate being held away at a distance because of inevitable reasons. i always hated not being in control, not completely understanding, to not be completely understood. nothing to do to fill up the gapping hole but to embrace my irrational emotions and simply cry. helplessly like a girl. the one indulgence i gave up fighting at moments like these.
often i wonder if i am meant to just collect promises, glowing stars i hold close and never get to redeem them. i only hope. maybe one day you wont have to leave me the way u did on those crazy summer mornings, rainy fall afternoons, yesterday, the day before, this evening, sighing, alone, loneliness annouced by a dramatic hush of silence that falls. sometimes even to hear u didnt want to after 6 hours no longer hold consolation for the damage already done.
i am still waiting. forgive me if i become a girl once in a while. this searing abandonment has yet to leave, distractions are hard to find here and loneliness does take some time to get used to.i guess i have to start picking up the pieces from the bottom again.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:30 PM
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Catalyst - Anna Nalick
L.A. lights never shine quite as bright as in the movies
Still wanna go
There's something here
In the way, in the way that we're constantly moving
Reminds you of home
So you've taken these pills
For to fill up your soul
And your drinking them down with cheap alcohol
I might be inclined to be yours for the taken
And part of this terrible mess that you're making
But me, I'm the catalyst
When you say love is a simple chemical reaction
Can't say I agree
Cuz my chemical, yeah, left me a beautiful disaster
Still love's all I see
You'll be the thing
You'll be the pain
You'll be the star
You'll be the road, rolling below
The wheels of a car
And all of the thoughts, oh god
Don't know if I'm strong enough now
You'll be the thing
You'll be the pain
You'll be the
Catalyst
These L.A. lights, no no,
They don't shine quite as bright as back in Frisco
Do you wanna go?
Still wanna go
...
i dont know where i am going.
...
i admire the truly self absorbed. i am one of them i know, the world revolving around my own selfish pain, sucking everything into a blackhole. believing the world has my heart chained and wrapped barbed wire, dragging it along the ground as it moves in a way i cannot comprehend.
i admire the ones who truly believe in the face value, the ones who party and drink and shop endlessly, with bonds held significantly by those activities itself, and find that their lives are full. those who believe the world moves with purpose, that everything we do isnt written in ash from the burned souls. the ones who can only talk about themslves, insist everyone cares and their stories relevant and important. those who believe the lousy cliche that "actions speak louder than words".
they both work in parallels dont you think?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:29 PM
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i
am
defeated.
i guess you will never feel what i feel.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:47 AM
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Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Winter
The beginnings of frosted windows, breaths plumes of vapor against the grey skies, and numb, chapped lips. Constantly fleeing from the merciless winds that make me forget how to live. Ice crystals in my wet hair early in the morning at the bus stop as I watch you look away.
Days that begin too late and end too early.
Long nights I crave and pine for the warmth of your skin. Just for you to be close enough.
Tears
from the sky. Snow flakes plummeting and rushing into my reluctant face.
Tears overflowing messily and continuously from my eyes.
Today, my heart can only hold so much.
Superheroes
You are my superhero. The one with flames at your finger tips, thorns in your eyes, wine and knives in your words, and in the sound of your leaving.
Superheroes fight the battle of good versus evil. Beowulf swam for weeks in the sea, receiving torques of gold and honorary goblets of mead.
Good princes fight dragons with emerald scales and glowing eyes, and scorching breaths.
I am not good. Nor am I evil. Why do I feel like I am fighting to find you?
Why
the overwhelming desire to share the dull agenda of daily life?
Ordinary
Normal, usual, same, sane, accepted, understood, unafraid.
I never mean it when I say I am just an ordinary girl. I may look like one, but they are the lucky ones.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:50 PM
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Monday, December 05, 2005
"I would like to think that what we have could exist outside of real time, that it could be a thing apart and not invade. Foolish and dangerous thinking. It has already invaded every part of my life" - Anita Shreve, The Last Time They Met.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:09 PM
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Tuesday, November 29, 2005
im stupid, obsese and ugly. why would anyone care? maybe i do deserve being the way i am. maybe i do deserve to spend the whole of my life in tears, angry, jealous, depressed, skeptical, cynical. maybe i deserve to loathe myself the way i do. maybe i am going to spend the whole of my life self conscious and then angry that i am self conscious. maybe i am going to spend the rest of my life pinning. maybe i will always be lonely and misunderstood. not that being understood will make me less angry. i will still be angry that i am the way i am.
maybe i deserve to spend my whole life watching the clock. waiting for something to happen. something that would make me forget the time.
all
i
am
doing
is
waiting for you.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 6:46 PM
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Friday, November 25, 2005
"I envy everyone. I feel I don't deserve any of what little I have. I wonder when I came to hate myself so much. I envy people that can go around ignorant to everything. I envy the perfect plastic people that I will never become a part of. I envy happy people. I envy people that don't want to die, and haven't had to consider dying as their best option for future happiness. Was it all worth it in the end? Is it ever worth it? Is anyone ever truly happy?"
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:50 PM
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Tuesday, November 22, 2005
" i didnt get along with my parents either, but at least i didnt know anything better or anywhere else, except the bloody icy playground and streets around my home. But Zulma? she talked of beaches and blue sea, sunshine and coconut trees, and days being so hot the asphalt would melt, and a gran who thought she was the most important person in the world. If i were in her shoes i would have gone mad, or maybe run away, but she didnt. At least she had me" - Harriet's Daughter, Marlene Nourbese Philip
thats what friends are for
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 1:15 PM
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Monday, November 07, 2005
maybe i will never understand the words, the intoxication and ecstasy you hold obliviously in your hands. maybe you wouldnt. But i will never forget.
you are my everything.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:31 PM
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Saturday, October 22, 2005
its been a long time since i blogged. seems like i never really had the time nor the energy to. the past weeks have been occupied by essay writing.. searching for comfort amongst the endless and yet familiar corridors of york campus.. the nagging reluctance to drag myself to work where i would smile and talk with false confidence... all in the drowsy cloud of the lack of sleep, emotions, insecurities and urges that tug and pull at obligations, the descend of faltering warmth, falling leaves, black coffee fumes at 6 in the morning, my headlights flinging beams of light forward into the grey.
the same old.
thoughts fill my mind. i just cant seem to write them down. yet. perhaps.
just some funny pictures me and dawne took today.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:58 AM
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Thursday, October 06, 2005
"this sense of disjunction between them seemed stronger than ever to him, a saddness. it seemed to come out of the ground, out of the damp hay and blossom scents, out of the brances of new leaves: a saddness and yes, a sense of deepening vulnerability. like a trapeze artist, he had abandoned his swing to throw himself into the air towards her. He had to be sure her hands were there to catch him. Perhaps, he wondered with a kind of terror, she was warning him off love in an attempt to get him back to her perch. But it was already too late. He was tumbling through the air, his arms outstretched, his hands open." - The Island walkers, john bernrose.
what a gorgeously sad paragraph.
i really should stop reading random books instaed of doing my homework. for the past 3 or 4 days i have been read about 5 novels.. 2 of which i read twice, not counting On the Road for my essay. like woh. havent done that in a while.
im deprived of attention. :( im like those pathetic miserable toddlers sitting sullenly at the corner of the daycare feeling anti social and tired of tryin to get attention instead of having it come to me. hmph. :..(
maybe i really should pick up tv for good. at least it talks to me without me having to prompt.
aww _@*_)($#@$@ i got work tomorrow.
why does everything i do in life feels like a bloody obligation and all i feel is just so effin tired.
i crave bubble tea. winter melon red tea with aloe vera :( i SULK.
I SULK. :(
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:59 PM
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Wednesday, October 05, 2005
"You're an academic.
"Not even close. Academics follow a train of thought. They specialize. i see a book on dressage or beekeeping or Elizabethan footwear, and i have to check it out. I'm not a gourmet, i'm a glutton. It's a sickness."" - Balloon, Tim Wynveen
the anarchy of desire.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:20 AM
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Sunday, October 02, 2005
a very weird thing to think about in the shower but yes, i was thinking about the little letter a professor from Queens university being disappointed in her white students who would become racist and everything politically incorrect and indignified at the drop of a beer keg. wonderful for someone to be so passionate about her work, i thought as i inhaled the yummy sweetness of my shampoo.
then i thought, in her sense, being dedicated to her work would mean passion for intellectual material, education. which i have come to convince myself is merely like what the ancient greeks said knowledge was - a way to conquer the body. AND then it lead to the thought of how ironically it is the most educated, most composed and rational that suddenly decides to fling caution(so only certain extents, funnily enough) to the wind and celebrate sensuality.
poems, music, stories, actions, broken rules, morales then gush from this stream of thought.
then at moments where a person is stripped of the educated consciousness, all has gone to hell.
hmm. how ironic.
well, whatever.
today, i have been abused and vandalised and trapped in a hideous cement cage. in other words, given burises for saying im flubbery(which is true. i feel terrible about it too), drawn on really nicely with a blue pen and sat in the worst plastic creaky chair ever made for mankind at scott library for 5 hours almost. needless to say, i got depressed within the first 1.5 hours. sorry hammy, i've been so depressed lately it probably bothers you as hell. MWAH.
silence and frustration just jumbles itself up deep deep inside and u feel so heavy. your arms and legs and brain slows down and all u know is you are going crazy. everything is nothing and nothng is everything. everything you misunderstand and understand becomes the same.
i think i AM going crazy.
but tonight im ok. i'll dive into the black lines of words laced together by another, kiss my love goodnight, electrionically for now, and dissolve into the dark of unconsciousness and sleep.
its not that early anymore afterall
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:12 PM
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Tuesday, September 27, 2005
about 2 more hours to work.. its quite unhealthy how i count down the hours with dread even if i had 5 hours before i have to wear that hideous shirt and my oversized khakis.. i look like a disgruntled kid drowning in clothing and grumpiness at the store. i shall just pray we dont end at 11 again and that hammy drops by before nine as a good excuse for a break instead of loithering around the mall lookig pathetically sad for 30mins.
lol, oh dont i hate my job. dont take it personally dear sportschek.. i hate every job. anything that exercises my obligation rather than my moods tend to irritate me. predictably of purl, persuading complete strangers(who often think everything is just too darned expensive and should be in a discounted walmart instead) to buy badly mechandized(applies strictly to sportschek) products unfortunately happens to be one big, badly dressed, boring and banal obligation in my book.
-pst, notice the use of words that start with B. lol
its only been about a month and im already threatening my considerably healthy blood pressure to rise. trust me my friends. i would so rather write a 500 word essay than watch time sprint toward 5pm.
well whatever, at least getting through those hours always give me a petty excuse to congragulate myself for being patient, kind and generous with my fake smiles and pretentious enthusiasm to make u spend as much money as possible - the ideal kind of sales person which i am fuly aware i certainly am not. i pat myself on the back and tell myself " hey, although u are already considering the options to escape your current job, you are about to beat your grand goodlife gyms record of 2 months!(they paid me better to be a slacker)". so i guess its a good thing.
besides, that way i dont feel as disgusted with myself for not having time to go to the gym so often. i tell myself at least im doing some form of cardio at work with the constant walking, climbing and carrying of boxes. but damm, im feeling so pudgy. prissy piglety pudgy purl. thats me. havent done regular strength training in so long and i swear i probably cant run up a couple flight of stairs before collapsing on the sides in a flubby heap. i dont care if i can now feel my whole pelvic bone and i dont have to pout to poke heartlessly at my cheekbones with familiar self hatred.. im getting soft :S!! oh good god.
and oh, i forgot, i get crappy pay too. so i guess its all good. maybe after working for 5 months i can go shopping for one day.
oh rats, 1 hr and 20 mins left.(given i take 10 mins to get there)
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 3:10 PM
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Sunday, September 25, 2005
the unedited ramblings of purl of tonight
the melancholy i exaggerate.
[i]
The artist's somehow narcissistic gift of self exaggeration, the typical amplification of pain and sorrow, joy, love.
Especially the endless echoes of my constant desolation that haunt me
Such a cliche, how dare I mutter such trivial words, my trivial mind
Of which I struggle for individuality, which is simultaneously being copied into another's.
Cycles of disintegrating dignity, integrity.
Both of us sitting silently by the glowing jukebox, enveloped by our own silence
We weren't holding hands I recall
Surely we aren't the same.
How I would allow my own
Alienation, from myself, of course, I still don't know.
Documentation of this internal dialogue, transforming it into something no longer just mine
The ironies of language -
They tell us in school, this education, of the new age phenomenon of the
Constant commodification of my body, my voice, my face, my private thoughts
The words tattooed on my skin, along the temples, along my jaw, etched onto my dry finger tips.
Yet ignored, hidden
We forget how to read. We forget what matters.
Winter is approaching; the leaves fall red like pools of blood at my bare, childish feet
My bleeding heart on my torn, dusty sleeve
Hers, his, theirs.
[ii]
Hatred burns for and within the skin you are in
The repulsive reality of tangible flesh, the glaring obligations to listen to this Absurd artifact of nerve endings.
You are just so tired,
Tired.
Lethargy lulls you into the silent tomb of unconsciousness, the smoldering voidless of everything.
The world and its words. Its pictures and sounds and money that scald and hurt.
You still do not understand how, where, when and why,
These blades that render you voiceless got caught in your throat.
You simply woke up one morning, loneliness and frustration bleeding tears into your lidless eyes, your palms cold and sad.
[iii]
Alas!
It is the exuberance of your love, darling,
that saturates the corners of my mind, my world -
a cliche that finds itself cast aside once so often,
and once more redeemed just the same.
Step in, half stranger, half twin -
so present, yet so elusive -
and hold me.
Allow me to tumble into your strange and familiar embrace,
let me fall as prey.
The hunter hidden in your lips and fingertips.
The wilderness of the heart.
[iv]
Repetition, repetition, repetition.
I love you I love you I love you.
The ecstasy and elation that often confuse or awaken.
I keep finding myself falling through the cracks of my heart
into oceans of valium,
orange balloons,
rain,
laughter,
pain,
flames,
you.
I love you I love you I love you.
But I cant find my voice.
- amidst it all
You feel paralysed,
A squashed bug under a shoe.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:43 PM
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Tuesday, September 13, 2005
"When you experience the loss of a beloved, you somehow lose more of that person than you even thought possible. I was prepared to lose my tennis doubles partner, my dinner companion, my sexy girl. But I was not prepared for the exodus of all those other, little Margarets, Margarets I had never even bothered to notice: Margaret checking the mail in just socks, Margaret at the kitchen table eating unwashed grapes, Margaret falling asleep with a book across her face, Margaret leaving her galoshes by the door, Margaret writing long letters that she could never bear to send.
The casualties seemed to go on and on. Just when I thought I was done losing her, I would find yet another way to lose her all over again." - Margarettown, Gabrielle Zevin
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:48 AM
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Thursday, September 01, 2005
havent written a real blog, or anything for that matter, for so long.. as much as i want to, it seems as if i stand in the midst of a cloud of dust. i cannot find the words. nor the energy to string them coherently together. there are so many things i want to talk about. my love, my dispair.. everything. but it just doesnt seem fair.
i seek for inspiration.. searching for and finding beauty in my lover's face, the dry gravel, another's words. yet i cannot separate my own from my churning consciousness. daydreams, reality, hopes find themselves blending into a whirl from which i have yet to pull myself out.
its been so long.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:50 PM
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Wednesday, July 20, 2005
yes, changed my blog... into ANOTER NARCISSISIC ONE! cut me some slack. i love attention. ahhahaaa sure.
lol its always hilarious when my mom wants to buy somethng and my dad grumbles in that funny way of his. his new gardening hobby is funnier!
mm havent been writing lately.. so i decided to sit in my backyard(a.k.a. tan) and write about not writing hoping to get something out. but uh uh. my pen ran out of ink after the 3rd sentence. hahaha.
excerpt from journal (when it was still snowing 05):
"i think im begining to understand and appreciate shared beliefs. its no longer about just keeping things simple, a way out of committment. before, having my beliefs constantly challenged and attacked,i gradually allowed them to suffer some damage and get pushed back, almost forgotten - i became like them.
When hammad(no, we're not breaking up LOL) suddenly entered my consciousness, bring finally a rush of fresh air, i eneded up getting hurt by guns similar to the ones i used. suddenly, i didnt have someone to fight against, someone's words to oppose or ignore. for a while, in the midst of confusion, i understood their pain.
true, i do get tired of hearing "we'll see how things go.." of course moments arise when i realise i want assurance, a promise, something steady, loyal i can clutch in my fingers...
its funny how while thinking of this, my university education manages to insert its little bit in here: the western society has lost many of its traditional mindsets/values, lifestyles. lovers wander amongst one another, dreamless, hopefull, constantly wanting that one person to fill that lonely gap in the crook of their arms late at night. it is almost strange and immoral to blatantly state that we are recycling one another - after being tossed out, exchanged for another recycled individual. funny how we can never love two people the same way either. different stories, complicated, intercepting emotions, those silvers of stolen, private memories float about above us, around us, in us, trascending us.
also, ideals plague us all, the perfect configuration of a person, expectations, rules, scars - all these dreams so different, yet so alike, converging only to have us behave like travellers, everyone of us, reaching for that hand that would hold ours forever.
but with each day, the likelihood of that decreases. even the words of my love smoulders my faint, pulsing hope i almost shamefully hide. i used to get hurt when he speaks of a future evidently dis-cluding me. but i dont want him to lie either. i would have told him to pretend he wouldnt let this go, the way i can easily gratefully and thankfully confess the same. but i dont want him to lie. my vulnerability shimmers as it sits in his oblivious hands.
maybe its our age, the uncertainty and opportunities that line themselves up so endlessly before us. who knows when things may change. i stare enviously at friends who confidently call their loves their "other halves", "laogong", etc. i always thought it was somewhat vile and pretentious, overtly sappy. but thats not my point. is that false consolation? an illusion of absolute assurance? will i be fooled? will i beleive its real and watch it materialize? the only times i briefly let someone call me that never really gave me all that.
then again, there is that "Dont go for what you need, go for what you want" mentality. is that pure irresponsibility, irrationality, or following the heart and private instincts? what responsibility anyway what instincts?
strangers milling around a large square, a rose in hand, damp with tears and blood, doused in perfume, beer and cocaine. what are we to do? what am i to thnk and feel? how do i express this? who will want ot listen?
"baby you're everything i want and need right now" - why right now? why cant people grow together? since when did life and love become periodized, sorted into coherent phases, with labels slapped onto the surface of the glass bottle? does this make it better? simpler?
i cannot claim to be ready for lifelong love.. nor can i say i am not. who is to tell? how would i know? wanting stability and loyalty doesnt mean the person you want it from is willing/ready to give it to you. i am not the type to nudge or push somone into feeling or wanting the same thing i do either. who am i to do so - with only my own personal/private experiences and the other person his own? must i ask for assurance?
i don't want to. neither doi want to settle with knowing i will never find it. and i never want to pretend that i am sure to find it either. as much as i long to take so many things for granted, i dont want ot at the same time. it gives me constant stress, and everyday i almost feel that tangible struggle to maintain everything i am supposed to be, but how else will i learn to value someone?
.
.
.
i always entertained that fairytale that one day i will be loved for everythig i am, hat one day someone will fall to my feet and worship me th way i would fall to his. and now that i found someone getting closer to that, my fear of losing even just one speck huants me.
i always thought being emotional is a sign of weakness, tears only for the confines of your own impenetratable space.. and admitting i am weak doesnt give me closure the way they say being honest to oneself should. rather, it frustrates me that i am nothing like what i want to be. not a perfect person, obviously, but a real, beautifully flawed and raw individual without the hopeless constant hemoraghing core and loneliness that now permanenetly resides in my chest, my lungs, my feet. on good days, with my baby's help i am able to ignore it.
.
.
.
..........
haha, stupid weak and hopeless pearle. who would have thought a person can be this insecure.... even after censorship of some paragraphs. this made me think though.. about then.. and now. ofcourse. now its diffferent. this was written way back.
and yarr... i actualy write like that in my own journal. lols. what a loser
been 4 months and my hairs still soo curly!! even though it prolly grew an inch or more after i permed it! wow. hahaa.. maybe i have curly/wavy hair naturally and the perm jsut gave it a real form... instead of me tryig to comb it neat every day when it was wavy and puffy last time. yay!! i like curly hair! not ron type obviously. but nice curls! heheee *mwah* for bummmm
been so lazy. i need to get fit!! bleargh! hahaa... a hard body is so nice to have and i hate my legs!! argh!! *snores and stuffs cake into mouth* hahaaa... dododooo.. feel like going to the library. that thick book is impossible to read. simply because its farrrrr too thick and it weighs more than a kilogram im suree... holding it will give my biceps definition.. but only 1004 pages. hmm. these people should make such books paperbacks with lighter pages. then i will read.. lols.
ok ima goo! then come home find the ts-elliot poems and off to school i go~
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 3:36 PM
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Saturday, July 09, 2005
why does my heart feel so sad - moby
...............
Strangely this morning my thoughts drifted to Daryl, prompted by the memory of us at age 14, running across hougang swimming complex wooping, not one bit body conscious, soaking up rays and the chlorinated water. Our brother-sisterly relationship was more or less like mine with Patrick. Back in highschool he called me babe(stil does), people who didn't know us lumped us together, pictures we took together at prom were ridiculous but looked more fitting than those I took with my date. we (still)share the cynical yet hopeful and hopelessly romantic view of life and love, and the enjoyment of midnight club hopping, if not for the wandering amongst unfamiliar bodies with the flashing neon lights and thumping music.. only I hand out my free drinks coupons while he chugs beer with the other guys. we proclaimed each other similarly charismatic and special while graduating from holy innocents, then hardly ever saw each other again, except for that one day he was the first to slip that silvery necklace around my neck, give me a hug and tell me to take good care minutes before I stepped onto the plane which, with the tears pouring from my eyes, would change my life forever.
I don't know why I thought of him. he didnt play a big role in my life, not even the slightest crush happened. We were strictly platonic.. and for the past 3 years, the only times we met were completely accidental. I don’t even miss him that much, I am not even sure what friend status to give him.. yet that one memory persists.. 2 boys(ron was there too) and 1 girl, hovering near the peak of full blown adolescence, so simple, so confused, our awkward voices rising clear and strong toward the blazing Singaporean sun.
Then there was bengimin lam ke wei. My first friend and neighbor in charlton. The strange skinny darkskinned boy who taught me how to swing from one monkey bar to another with no effort.. and taught me how to swear. and who shared scraped knees and obnoxious bruises from recklessly jumping on miniature skateboards, whacking each other with wooden sticks when we play fight and while performing ridiculous stunts on his painful looking porch, where I hung out for most of 1996. and the funniest thing was, we had to tell people we were cousins to ward off fishy suspicions.
Then we drifted apart toward the end of primary school, as I leaned toward my books and slightly more passive and subdued friends like Patrick, cedric, kenny and thh. We still met up for soccer once in a while, still yelled at each other from our own houses, held up that slowly fading friendship until secondary 3, where I finally joined the pompous studious snobs "up there" while he drifted to the normal-technical stream.. had to be sent to behavioral school.. got fixed up and became some wushu bigshot and despite STILL being in the same secondary school, our lives twisted and grew in different directions, and then our friendship finally broke down when he moved away. No more looking out the window half expecting him to wave. I finally got him on my buddys list on msn a year ago.. but that was also the last time we spoke in so many years.. albeit electronically. I wonder how he is doing.
And his best friend, Justin. The one who would wear socks abd sprinkle talcum powder on smooth flooring to slide around to the song Mr. Bombastic, made popular by that levis commercial on tv. the three of us we so close during primary school. And I would partake in every boyish activity they had. Climbing trees, water guns. The most amusing thing about Justin is that.. two years after we lost touch, he came to be the character in my idiotic smoker boyfriend story I would tell to others for a laugh. Despite all the rehabilitation, conversion to Christianity and juvenile arrests, he didn't change. There was one redeeming thing though, he would call at 3am in the morning while he was out fishing, and sing to me while I nodded off. How cute. Im curious if ben still has those infamous sleepovers at justin's mansion. I would suspect so. They were wonderful friends. I was the reject, the goody two-shoes who did her homework and picked up a different lifestyle, somewhat more complex than the one I had at 12.. all I can do now is smile.. for them.
Karen. How can I ever forget Karen.. the eccentric little girl who saw herself as more mature than everyone else around us.. but she was my best best buddy in Charlton. I do not really know what to speak of her, except for my constant incredulity of her reluctance to come run around in the park with us or simply go out.. and insistence of staying in her dark pinkish home all day. But I remember admiring her closeness to her two sisters, tracing pictures cut out from magazines along their shared dresser sitting in an apartment in bedok. She was one to talk behind a person’s back. Prone to gossip and silent anger and jealousy. I heard from someone else she vowed to cut off ties with everyone in Charlton once the PSLE results were in.. which she successfully did. I was not too tramuatised. A lot of politics arose at that time amongst us all at that time.. and I still had thh and other buddies.I wonder how she is doing also.
My oldest friend ever possible. The guy I known since I was 4. Lam hongye. our families were friends, despite different schools and living in different areas.. we remained close all the way till secondary 2. for some reason my entire life took a sharp turn when at the age of 15(secondary 3). there is no way I can forget the Saturdays he spent over at my house, lugging that huge bag of plastic swords and toys behind him. we basically grew up together.. even early pictures with my family had him in it... I temporarily became his parent's daughter(he was the only child).. they took us everywhere, lavished us with unreasonably huge sums of money at amusement parks or arcades. Even as we grew older when we went out while we were still drifting apart, his parents pressed money into his hands, telling him to dress smart and take me out to a nice dinner.
For some reason we just do not talk anymore. Although I am absolutely sure I am not forgotten, having received a little puny msg informing me he now has a gf and is now in the army. But everything else, I don’t know. Funny eh, relationships between people. One minute we were pelting water bombs at each other, mouths wide with laughter, combining our pocket money to buy a bubble gun. The next, over thousands of miles and 3 years after quietly slipping that little bracelet with our two names engraved on both sides into my hands as a goodbye at the airport, we only probably pop up in each other’s minds once in a while when we get nostalgic. Then again, I am probably just more sentimental than he is.
These are not the only friends I had that somehow impacted my life and then disappeared of course. These are the ones who just happen to wander into my mind as I was typing this.
At the same time, im looking at my own life right now, suppressing the anger, sorrow, joy and frustration rising up all at once. Its not nostaligia.. I just miss the friends that have NOT disappeared. I miss how easy it used to be to spend my days, without planning. Days I truly appreciated the rare times I sat alone in my balcony-turned-into-room, reading at my good old huge ass table. I should ask my parents if it is still there in the house.
Sometimes I ask myself why should I feel this lonely. why i have to punch myself to stop feeling so shitty. I have everything I need for now almost. Like what Ronald said : a happy family, pretty well off, big boobs i dont want(lol), an amazing bf who occasionally feels intangible, relatively good social skills, not many friends but receiving life changing education and a car. My life IS supposed to be almost complete.. I should stop picking battles with myself. Bored is good, they say. Bored is safe.
Hadn't I always wanted safe? when then am i taking deep breaths to stop myself from picking this keyboard up and smashing it against the monitor and table?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 4:28 PM
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Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Desiring Only - P.K. Page
Desiring only the lean sides of the stomach
sagging towards each other, unupholstered...
pass me nothing of love done up in chocolates
or the fat first fruits of the tree
you planted from seed.
Desiring only the bone on the Mount of Venus
and the death rattle caught in the musical powder box...
pass me no hand, then, as offertory,
no, nor sound of your voice.
Keep silent and do not touch me.
Even the air on my face is an effrontery.
Desiring only the bare soles of the feet
pacing triumphantly the ultimate basement...
pass me no thick-carpeted personal contact,
nor little slippers of pity and understanding.
Waking - such goreous imagery
I lie in the long parenthesis of arms
dreaming of love
and the crying cities of Europe
wake to the bird a whistler in my room
and sun a secret.
Light on the bed of air
and buoyed by morning
and easy bugle of breath
projects an echo
while over the difficult room
the brimming wndow
opens the bandaged eyes
to the shape of Asia.
Invalid, I -
and crippled by sleep's illness,
drowned in the milk of sheets
and silk of dreams,
I rise and write the rising curve of day
with mercury of the smashed thermometer
and trouble the silent mirror, who have been
pale in suspension on the oval bed.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:57 AM
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Monday, July 04, 2005
u know what pisses me off. when people put a gender lid on everything. like do you really think you are THAT special? bah. thinking men or women independently created the rise of poor sad bachelors, bisexuals, homosexuals, depression, blah blah. lame ass theories. blah blah, we poor sad girls.. men can't be trusted.. they dont understand us.. blah blah, hey fellow sob brothers.. women are too complicated... they can't be trusted. boohoo. SHUT UP. we're just people for god's sake. lay off the stupid superficiality and stop complaining. screw you all. men and women both like fuking each other up. dont sit on your ass and wail collectively about how the opposite sex ruined your life. everyone messes up.
i spent my entire life fighting against stereotypes and now im just tired. i used to argue that pms is no reason to be bitchy.. girl politics are stupid.. the fact that boys should do the dirty work is bullcrap.. that girls must not be too fat. too pumped.. that guys cannot hit a girl.. blah blah blah. i used to believe in mind over body. its so bloody annoying. shut up girl, who gives a crap about your cramps. grin and bear it. guys you want to be macho.. than ACTUALLY BE MACHO. dont FAKE it. its such a lousy flaw. FLAWS. its all about hiding flaws. go ahead get jealous.. just dont BITCH about it.
i bitch about everyone. everyone else bitches about everyone. a cycle of irritating bitching. why is it so bloody hard to find a friend? why must everyone be so pretentious? stop staring at my chest asshole. look at me in the face and talk. and stupid woman stop giving me dirty looks and TALK.
the thing is.. i cant believe i cultivated the same kind of jealousy girls share all around. i cant believe i let myself learn that. how lovely to be oblivious those years back.. when i didnt give a toss about competition. what the hell are we all competing for anyways? attention?! is that it? competition for attention? whats wrong with people these days. the existence of the stupid celebrity world is just pepetuating the harm done to people more than anything else. i cant believe i let myself fall into this pit. like wtf.. say my best friend wears the exact same thing.. or at least not far off(girls like to make sure this happens).. and they get smug like a bloody monkey that you look beter than her. WHAT IS THIS?!
im full of contradictions. i believe in laying out all your cards.. flaws and all.. and at the same time.. tucking the smudged cards under the table. man, i dont know. i hate pretentiousness.. and at the same time.. im one of the most disgsutingly pretentious people when i meet people i dont like or dont understand. vile hypocrisy.
ergh. whatever.
tihnk im gonna go to york early today.. stick my head in the books and get my essay out of the way. hammy i wanna go shopping :(
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:00 AM
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Saturday, July 02, 2005
You And Me Song - The Wannadies ... happy sweet song to start the day!
Always will we find
I tried to make you love
'Til everything's forgotten
I know you hate that
Always will we fight
Kiss you once or twice
And everything's forgotten
I know you hate that
I love your Sunday song
The week's not yet begun
And everything is quiet
And it's always
You and me
Always and forever
Bop bop bop bop bop
It was always
You and me
Always
You tell me I'm a real man
I try to look impressed
Not very convincing
But you know I love it
I know we watch TV
'Til we fall asleep
Not very exciting
But it's you and me
And we'll always
Be together
You and me
Always and forever
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:59 AM
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its 2 something and i still can't sleep. must be the latte or something...
this whole ego bash between me and steve got me thinking about some other related things.. the concepts of feminity and masculinity. something i find ironic is that feminist extremists resort to displaying masculine attributes in order to make their point of the irrelevency of gender. its just like saying we need women who are like men while saying we don't need men at the same time. it just... doesnt fit to me.
i grew up being taught to sit, dress, eat, talk, walk like a girl who should be attracted to boys - boys who throw rocks and play with guns instead of dolls. girls to be girly. boys will be boys. pink is for girls. blue's for boys. i can't say, despite my inner struggle to choose between fighting or embracing it, that i am not taken by masulinity. although i dislike the bold, neon lines separating feminity and masculinity sometimes, i cannot escape the fact that this arrangement is still most comfortable with me.
the whole time hammy's watch was sitting on my table, i marvel at the contrast between that one thing and all my other stuff. it sat there, far too big for my wrist, metallic, almost symbolic of everything i am and my attraction to certain things. i tell myself i am a strong, independent female mind.. but when i stare at that watch I picked out for him, some weird indentity problems get triggered. how do i explain to myself why very-much=taller, bigger-sized-than-me-men and wonderfully masculine belt buckles and gorgeous suits and cufflinks and that particular series of BMWs appeal to me so, so greatly? how do i explain the irritation i feel when guys tell me its good to be the girlier person i am now? why do i feel so annoyed with myself for succumbing to useless girlish tendencies? then i wonder, if i was against the whole pretending-to-be-like-men deal, shouldn't i be happy im adapting fine to society? its just weird. i cant explain it. i had moments i wanted to pick it up and do what i used to do with my old rings, have that cool metallic iron taste against my tongue.. and at the same time.. im almost relieved to get it off my table.
clarification : i am not saying i only adore the extreme end of the masculine continunm.. boyishness is absolutely endearing to me too. and many other things in between. all im talking about are the supposedly cold, hard lines of masculinity against the supposedly thin, fragile baby lily stems of feminity... and how i feel standing on one side staring over the fence that is gradually getting more and more crowded.
.......... well i guess readers would have had enough of all that by now.. haha.. and noo of course thats not all i tihnk about. been thinking alot about the crazy past couple years. not crazy coz it was overflowing with fun and excitement... but crazy coz of of the things that changed in my life.. events that occurred.. the heartbreaking loneliness.. the tears i practically drowned in. then i fell in love.
excerpt from diary 7/1/05:
"so much has changed. sometimes i wonder if too much has.
i had never really daydreamed spending my eternity with a particular someone, travelling the globe, fighting battles or laughing with a particular someone beside me perhaps until lately.
i feel so ridiculous somehow saying this aloud. i tihnk of lindsay lohan publically proclaiming to the media her intent on settling down early, waking up to her true love each morning and being adored unconditionally. i think of her giddy smile, radiant cheeks, her head obviously in the clouds. i think of her saying this with that smile on her face and how her true love left her a few months after. so young, they say. so naive and silly, at 18 she was. is it really wrong to feel that way?
i fear saying this aloud. i fear the rejection. the blank stares, vacant eyes. mocking lips, anxious distancing footsteps.
i dare not say this aloud. i think of superstition. of the divine. the logically impossible. the sweetness magically evaporating.
maybe i just fear and need too much."
.....
its 3:15am. sigh, i better try to get to sleep.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 1:55 AM
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Wednesday, June 29, 2005
okok i really should go to the gym.. chubby chubby purl.
look at this gorgeous poem:
PAVEMENT
walking
(barefoot)
down city streets
it is possible
to ignore
the chaos
of modernity
and tap
into a time
wen clad feet
were
undiscovered
return
to your lair
and you will find
your feet
blackened
with the grime
of today
after scrubbing
nothing
will remind
(of you epiphany)
but one
black footprint
in you
white tub
Cassandra Drudi
arrrrgggg its so pretty!! its from the U of T poetry thing. how come york has nothing like that?! psh. so much for encouraging and nuturing talent.
omg another one of them random nosebleeds. IM DYING!! ergh. feel like it anyways.
i dont know what i am talking about... hmms hammy still has an hour of work left.. ill go to the gym at 2something or 3... shower and head to school. bloody school.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:58 PM
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Monday, June 27, 2005
was reading another one of them lists where "the ping you felt when you first kissed him" was included as one of the things no one wil ever take away from you.. well i never really understood why the first kiss is so overrated... little kids grow up thinking there will be fireworks in the sky and everything and everyone lives happily ever after. sure, it may be the start of something wonderful and everything.. and the first of anything is usually memorable.. but i always found the intense kiss of a familiar love more powerful. a kiss you share with someone not at the begining, but someone who HAS ALREADY BEEN there, and gave you more reasons that u started with to love him/her.
bah someone with a unfamiliar number called and hung up on me :s
batman begins was really goood!!! was over 2 hours but worth the ass hurting! and i havent watched mrs smith yet. hmms. club monaco has pretty dresses on sale for 79!!! mm. well. i wont get them dont worry. yes hammy, even if its on sale it doesnt mean i have to buy it :). u see.. sometimes i just cant shake off the fact that i am not anyone special really.. and it really doesnt matter what i wear and look like and i cant afford the useless pretty things..and that even desperately willing a mini copper or any car i like to materialize before me to be mine wouldnt ever work.. and thanks to a stupid mirror today i understand why hy used to say i look like a guy from the back. hahaa. meh. see, i still cant come back down to earth. BAH.
mmm i feel sleepy. must be the fan blowing in my face. hmm.. shall sit down quietly and read poetry later. bloody essay comin up. *sobs* i hate essays! moments like these, i must admit.. i wish i stayed on the science path. the dark side is beckoning. hmm.. to think about it.. im proabably one of the rare 4A peoples who became art students.
its funny how i never really talked about my trip back to singapore despite the countless blog entries leading up to it.. i tried.. but u know.. i havent really had words down about the many things that went spining when i went back. things that changed. things that remained the same. people who changed. and people who remained the same. newly forged bonds with people i never thought would be this close to me, reconciliation, old friends who just keep on fading. and people i totally forget and hurt unintentionally. things said. things held in. it was all pretty strange. it was only 2 weeks and a bit.. an everytime i return home.. i anticipate a time i can go back and fit in comfortably with that new understanding of the place i once called home that i had just attained. then again, given the gaps inbetween, i wont be suprised to be suprised. But, like they said i've changed, maybe its just how i chose to see that changed.
u know how there was always an invisible segregation between the different classes and streams back in secondary school(high school).. and its always funny how i stil feel that protectiveness whenever ron kan makes an irritating isolent remark about the people i used to sweat my ass off with in the same room for hours each weekday.. and scenes of violence would play themselves in my head.. then again.. it might just be me finding almost everything he says and does excruciatingly annoying. HOWEVER, people still group each other that way.... " na ge 4B de" or "that normal one".... right?! its weird. damm hierarchical (how do u say it?!) education system. we will probably be 40 and balding and saying that same damm thing during reunions. but i guess it gives us an easier way to remember people we dont want to/bother to/simply just don't remember.
sentiment may be for fools.. but this fool cant help it. i get emotional when i look at my old stuff. sighs. :)
WOW MAKEUP DOES MAGIC!! i just saw this picture of this girl i dont rememeber the name off who was actually quite erm.. plain.. and she looks so gorgeous!! the clear skin, darkened eyes and dyed hair and everything. wows. how come i doesnt do magic to me:(
well i should get changed to go to school.. and find way to hide them bloody zits.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 5:13 PM
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Saturday, June 25, 2005
/i lie in bed and listen to
offbeat thump of my heart to
tick - ing of the clock to
creak - ing stairway
hushed voices.
- contained within the distant high pitched scream of silence
emitting from amber and emerald walls.
yellow, they say, is for luck.
green, for the numb - ness that is
s l i d i n g
deep
in
side
of
m
e
.
/eleven.
the ring - ing of the tel e p hone
jolts me from my reverie -
his voice murmers empty words of adoration over the layers of static -
but his
hand i can - not touch.
the cold from the icecube he passes to hot lips for-got-ten.
noiseless tears do not betray
this helpless desperation. urgency. rush. wave. surge.
pain.
- i do not add to the silence anymore.
/isolated.
alone.
nothing.
invisible.
i.
am.
again.
life, they say, becomes an empty big hole.
why, thy love, delicate and sweet, torment me so?
- p u r l -
..........
well its not totally autobiographical..
i think i sorta know why i like garden state that much.. its not an amazing movie with any wonderful effects or anything.. but esp the ending the character natalie portman plays reminds me of myself. i can understand her pleas and that urgency. well i dont know. sigh, i dont know anything.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:19 PM
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Friday, June 24, 2005
"Now, watching the moth, maybe it isn't just a matter of faith. Or of hope, or even guesswork. Maybe it's just that certain moths decide to smash themselves to death. Who knows why? Or maybe what’s going on is that the moths dont understand shades of resemblance. To them, if a thing looks enough like another thing, it is the other thing. All lights are the moon. The moth is all over moths and all other moths are the moth. There is one human, and he is everywhere.
There is one human, and he is nowhere." - Barbara Gowdy
........ for the sake of boredom... beckett reminds me of quite extreme alternatives i know i shouldnt do.. hence this lousy piece of a survey
*_YOU_*
1.What Time is it now? 10:06
2.What is your name? eaf;iehdnv
3.Single or taken? taken
4.What does your name mean? i have no bloody idea
5.Who picked out your name? my mom
6.What's your nickname? purl
7.How old are you? 18 going on 81
8.What colour are your eyes? purple
10.What size are your shoes? 6
12.Tall (or short)? short
13.Honestly what do you like about yourself? your mom likes me
14.my talents: getting into a filthy mood within 2 seconds
15.What is your worst quality? sloppiness
16.Phone Number? 416-NEED-A-LIFE
18.Hair colour? yellow
19.Do you wear contacts? they keep me sane.. occasionally
20.Who do you live with? my aunt jodie and her 58 cats
21.Favourite Drink? nestquik choclate thingamagig, milk tea, water, turpentine
23.Favourite month? dont have one. but warmer weather preferred
24.Favourite Food? i eat everything. but i binge when no one's watching
25.Favourite board Game? scrabble. be mortified. be very mortified.
26.Favourite Web Site? howtoblowyourbrainout.com
27.Favorite clothing Brand? anything YOU cant afford.
28.Favourite day of the Year? bah, i dont know
29.Favourite colour? the colour you get when i poke your eyes out
30.Favourite Animal? my aunt's 58 cats
31.Do you have more girl or guy friends? girls give me dirty looks and boys dont give a shit. i dont know.
33.Are your parents together? yes
34.How often do you get together with family? almost every day
36.Anythin special about your parents? plenty
37.Siblings and their ages? dawne 16, brother 25
38.You're a flirt? when your mom's around, yeah.
41.You like someone? yup
42.Can you keep secrets? sure
43.Do you dance in front of the mirror? hoping like a retard counts right?
45.You sing in the shower? no
46.You liked Britney Spears? if her abs meant anything yea.
47.You've liked a cousin? er heck no.
48.You've been in the opposite sexes' bathroom? durh
49.You've seriously hurt someone? sure. dont know
50.You've been hurt seriously? in the brain and in my overactive heart yea
51.You swear? not much. unless you ______ want to start some _______ with me.
52.You get your way? not always.
53.You're willing to try new things? yea
54.You've cheated on a test? long ago yeah
55.You've smoked? nopes
*_RGHT NOW_
57.What are you wearing? stuff i just woke up in
58.What colour is your underwear? cobalt
59.What are you listening to? my own typing and the birds outside
60.How are you feeling? dont know. frustrated?
61.What are you doing? this. stupid.
62.What are you eating? nothing
63.How many people are online? no one i want to talk to.
64.The weather? good. im up for another day of frying.
65.What's on your mouse pad? stupid happy words that make me feel like heaving my entire desk out the window.
......... on second thought.. i think i might just go hang myself
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:01 AM
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Monday, June 20, 2005
bah, read this list online about the 10 single things a girl should own. so shockingly stupid.. it actually suggests that a girl should own books and music just to IMPRESS the man. *rolls eyes out of sockets* it can kiss my girly ass... i listen to what i want and read what i want to read.. sure i might adapt and evolve accordingly to someone i choose to belong with and compliment... but pSH. i aint buying nothing to put on my shelf as a lie for such a ridiculous and disempowering reason. PISH TOSH! i hate it when girls go all out and do ludicrious things to impress men.. they are supposed to fall at your feet for YOU being YOU! bah, wear those green hooker heels(speaking for myself) and boob job(err.. i quite like the reverse so im referring to general image-obsessed public) and books and sappy genuwine cd(damm right im speaking for myself) for yourself.
got truly madly deeply stuck in my head.. *whistles*
"i was a very happy man when you all were little kids" - daddy, when looking through stack of baby photos sitting on my table. lols... until the little kids grew from adorable critters to awkward weirdos.
sigh, back to shedule fixing... got an essay due on thursday.. *snore*
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:39 PM
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Sunday, June 19, 2005
You and I,
this sweet battleground
i am uncareful.
i am undone. tangled amongst the glowing runes on the wall.
i do things i would never do.
the perfect version of him in me only surges more recklessly each day with
the tremor of my palpitating heart.
the cold has returned. eyes downcast. its me and my marguerite once again.
fly, the time that races with fervent, frantic kisses from plump-red lips to which your fingers
fly to.
fly you, under the warmth of skin of mine - the stumble toward ecstasy.
bare hands
bare feet
bare -
you are colours absitine, amber and red.
you are my life, my breath, my companion to my body, guest in my heart.
you are the fire in my hair.
-p u r l-
deliberate allusions and plagarising.. from myself!! and of course one or two things i have read. im an amateur afterall. i could go on but i tihnk readers would have the creeps that im some obsessive crazy love sick woman... which is bad :) sigh, i love my revamped blogskin, yorkdale and hammy and the unbelievably sexy ferrari he showed me. (lol of course i would need more water if YOu were in that car)
gotta hit the gym tomorrow!!!!gotta get a nice back and arms ready to wear that black top without anything over it and toned legs for my mini!! and yes, of course, that toned tummy for low pants my dad freaks out over whenever i wear em. then im gonna get a haircute/newstyle/trim when the curls flatten out! and revive that nice glowy tan i WAS abt to get and is now slowly losing all the progress with the return of the cold weather on a day before summer officially starts. haha little silly motivations that somehow make me happy in my ultimately pointless life. but i really wonder if anyone really gives a poop. f it. im gonna hand my resume in to starbucks.
tsk tsk, women and the random moodswing.
i found another role model... salma hayek!! shes another popular icon who is not dropdead gorgeous.. but shes such an empowered humanitarian and glamorous with a personality that screams out "i am all woman, take me as i am"!! ahhaa.. models and gorgeous and stylish people can make me go green and purple in the face with jealousy but she is so inspiring. angelina still sits on my altar though. :)
i hope i dont get any bad dreams again tonight.. last nights was quite horrifying i must say. *shudders* i actually woke up feeling UNrested and scared.
hmmmms shall also work on my essay tomorrow.. and then PERHAPS start cutting my fabric for the curtains in the room or start sewing or something. WHATEVER.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:31 PM
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Friday, June 17, 2005
"What is he suggesting if it isn’t that attachment interferes with fulfillment?
I think of the emptiness of outer space, and men in their little pods going up there alone, wives and girlfriends left behind. I think of Abel and me lying on the grass, looking up at the stars, and how great that was, but, still, I was always waiting for him to turn his head. To look at me." - The Romantic, Barbara Gowdy.
i am not exactly a fan of love stories.. but Gowdy got me right there. *points to temporarily broken heart*
is she even aware the personas she had created might have reached out to more than she intended? maybe she's right. maybe she hadn't been exaggerating. maybe Isabel Allende isnt either. maybe it is the ego that saves many of us. me, im still teetering on the edge.
its always strange when i stare at pictures of myself when i was a little toddler and find myself unable to connect with that laughing girl with glowy eyes and her two front teeth missing. but when i look closely.. i ache to feel the soft gums in the gap of the two missing teeth, the stiff wool of the ratty stuffed doggy and the rustle of the low quality wet marketplace plastic bag in her tiny hands.
i must have been there. somehow.
everyday you seem a little farther.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:49 PM
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Thursday, June 16, 2005
due to ronald's contagious/infectious depression about the superficiality of modern mankind/womenkind in the world of celebrity posters and senseless television shows... i am here to express my pent up frustration shared by similarly retarded girls such as i. oprah did it.. many other stupid teenage books have done it.. and here i am again to do it.. simply coz lookig in the mirror and then remembering retarded things and feeling the typical 2005 society's pressure SUCKS ASS everyday.
i still don understand why i even bother TRYING to look good everyday. i mean comon.. no matter what i buy, what i wear.. what i use.. im just gonna be NORMAL. whos gonna notice and give a shit anyways. its like yay i got a new shirt.. SO?? effin idiot.. i look fine. FINE. not like anything i do would make any diference. whats the point of feeling ugly .. no ones gonna notice! even if i feel gorgeous.. IM NOT! pathetic eh. who cares about inner depth anymore. just like howard who got let down... just bring out the bling bling and gorgeous ladies.. everyne else can stay at home, turn on the tele, dig in into the tub of icecream and watch.
ok, so growing up in this age is more hard on the tweens. guys think the only way to be attractive is to be muscled, behaving like little peabrains and have enoough cash to pass around... which actually works.. coz girls flock to these people.. and girls can only hope to attract as much attention as they like by being gorgeous and behaving accordingly. and besides.. face it people.. u might tell yourself people resort to artificial means to make themselves look like that.. but usually they dont. just face it. you are simply not good enough like tha tlike them. yes, naturally.
im not saying i crave the attention or anything.. it just pisses me off. like wtf. why ddont i just tear up my entire wardrobe and give up hopes that i will ever reach my "ideal".. which is obviously, inevitably and in the most pathetic manner, shaped by the media. im frustrated at how much i give a poop about APPEARANCE. i dont want to care how i look in those bloody shoes.. i dont want to worry my legs look exactly like hideous unattractive pig trotters and that pink makes me look like little miss muppet coz im pudgy and short and yellowish.. i dont wnat to sigh at the broadness of my shoulders.. my disgustinly fleshy arms.. the worry of disappearing obliques with the appearance of love handles and ugly not-so-girlyish-feet and my loathesome boobs that get in the way.. its like whats the point of normal lookig women purchasig gorgeous lingerie only to realise that unlike the marketting they look CRAP in it.. and then wonder why you give a shit when you stare at your bf/gf/wife/husband/lover/whatever stare and drool at and fervently defend someone on tv.. your self-esteem then plummets and expectations increase.. when will you ever be good enough for yourself anyways? whats the point of me even getting pissed off sitting here with my stupid blotchy skin and my aching flabby back hunched over my superficially dysfunctional legs.. and i cant beleive i like wearing heels!!! and then complain when i STILL look like shit. WHAT HAS BECOME OF ME!!? AND I GET JEALOUS OF GIRLS ON POSTERS AND EPOPLE I DONT EVEN KNOW!!! so much for not succumbing to stereotypes.. even extremist feminists who actuualy WANT TO FEEL LOVED out there probably struggle with this everyday when they look at their empty calander and boring sensible shoes. then again.. its probably a humankind tradition... ERGH.
stupid shallow women. stupid shallow men. stupid segregation. stupid world. stupid permeable, easily affected, weak, lousy, materialistic, hypocritical me.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:06 AM
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Monday, June 13, 2005
there is just something about waking up to an empty, silent house. It fills me with a sense of purposeless purpose and a continuous stream of words that i would fumble with and often drop and forget. The world expands and envelopes me in a comforting silent void that nurses my little slightly cracked lonely core.
i then take a shower, brush my teeth. the typical daily rituals one performs upon a night's slumber, restful and restless likewise. a ritual to officially begin the day with. out of desperation to fill the empty day that lay before me after i finsihed another breath taking novel and letting it sink in, i brought the pants and books i meant to return to H&m and the library respectively.
walking in the mall, i catch my reflection off gleaming surfaces.. my shoulders tensed as always, the quick solemn stride i adopt when im out alone. Who can love me? i still wonder sometimes, staring at myself. these ungainly fleshy limbs attached to its flawed counterparts- the torso, the head, the shoulders - along with all their cumbersome obtuse components i abhor with an unhealthy obession. i know my body does everything for me - i smell, i touch, i hear, i taste - it takes me places, bares me to pain, pleasure, distractions. i ought to love it, yes, i really should. posters and books and tv shows have women shaking their perfectly coiffed hair and manicured nails in the air demanding to be appreciated for everything they are.. inside and out. but sometimes i think they forget, being caught in the small little screen, frozen in time, judged by their shallow words, breathy voices, glowing skin... they are already perfect. they dont have body parts getting in their way, holding them down.. it is exactly the superficiality that is keeping them up and admired... i always wanted to be waif-like, without the repulsive softness surrounding my bones, not so i can strut down runways.. no, im a romantic.. i want to slip into shadows when i want to, be loved like an oread, be subdued and crushed by a lover's embrace.
im a fraud. im all fake, an imposter. constantly i harbour the fear of being caught, of being found out that i am not everyone thinks i am. i'm merely a walking persona.. its pearle who is wearing that skirt, shes the one who is obesessed about fashion and powerful women who inspire her, shes the one writing that essay, buying that dior lipgloss, weaving blogs i somestimes cant identify as mine/hers, shes the one indulging in chocolate, giggling, laughing with that careless abandon - but not me. what if someone finds out im all pretense. i cant possibly look like that, talk like that, laugh like that, triumph that way, fail this way. no, i dont want to be part of those contradictions, the confusion, mixed identities- funny, coz me being this way is part of it. how ironic. sometimes i would just like to think its inevitable, uncontrollable - just not me. just not my fault. i know it is.. but please dont tell me?
to escape. run away. avoid. to detach. ignore. pretend. to be blind. deaf. voiceless.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:34 PM
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Thursday, June 09, 2005
i read blog entries of people feeling like they are drowing in pools of their own imagination, the whirl pool of pain, the closing up of the heart, the slowing of the feet... with the undercurrent of longing... for a friend perhaps?
this struck me when i read edward's blog, with his need to slow down and shut everything else unfamiliar out. its funny how people move simultaneously to the same currents. breathe, submerge, crash. and take another deep breath. my love, would you hold on to my hand?
another thing that strikes me as funny is how i naturally censor things i put in my poetry and writing. it is my blog yes, but im aware that people do read it and would not like being apalled or grinning a little too smugly at the words i lace together and publish. and of course, i dont think anyone really wants to give themsleves away. not that i scrutinize every word i type...i just, like everyone else, censor it with the "natural" instinct we subconsciously "download" as we grow up... and of course.. i harbour that false hope that one day students would pick out my writing and unpack it merticulously.. to find the hints i tucked carefully in puny gaps, the faintly coloured edges. haha.
was reading "A thousand pieces of Gold" by Ruthanne Lum McCunn about a girl from china who was sold to bandits and then to a brothel and ended up marrying a white guy in the 1880s. it wasnt that well written.. but easy to read.. and for some reason.. i just thought of how,, during the 20th century.. when globalization started going insane, how chinese ladies(actually.. AUNTIES) smugly tell the younger generation that the "superior" white men like asian girls because we are mild-er, dainty-er, exotic-er and sweeter than the "aggressive" white women. it was almost as if i, 5 years old, in my frilly little cinderella dress, was supposed to be proud of this evolution of stereotypes. and while this is going on.. friends of my own *ahem* stare with their mouths hanging open at blondes in a bikini. LOLs. sorry.. or course i am just generalizing and there are so many facets of this issue(not just white peoples of course) that annoy me and although i want to, i shant go on.. coz these things make me roll my eyes out of their sockets :) lols, times like this, i am tempted to join the dark side- my brother's view. lols
anyhoos.. i gotta go textile shopping with my mommy. tons and tons of fun! btw hammy i miss you~
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:09 AM
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Wednesday, June 01, 2005
oh i heart you so
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 1:06 AM
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Friday, May 27, 2005
"It would be Lewis calling at three in the morning to say, "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i never meant to hurt you." As if that made everything all right. As if not meaning to hurt someone must lessen the depth of the pain you had so unwittingly inflicted upon them. As if hurting someone when you hadn't meant to was not a criminal act after all. As if the aftermath ofpain was merely an incidental byproduct, like the unidentifiable remains they stuff wieners in." - Diane Schoemperlen, Language of love. what a cheesy name eh...doesnt do justice to the content/quality of the book. it echoes alot of my fleeting daily private thoughts..
arrrr... dont know why i am so tired this todayyy... fell asleep just a while ago after dropping hammy off and i can hardly bear to move around now... *lazy assed* lol i didnt even want to go to the gym with my brotherr... my triceps hurt.. thought they looked very flabby yesterday and went crazy with the tricep machine. hey its true eh...exercise ehances boobs~ sigh, that sucks fer moi... coz i think muscular backs are sexy. they say short skirts are for short people.. how come i think i look unbelivable unattractive and fat-legged in them? i can always trust my legs and boobs to kill my mood everytime i see em in outfits i happily put together. good ol' trusty body parts.
omg i hate the way my room looks now. ARGGGGG!! it really needs a makeover. i esp hate that collage of pictures hanging above my bed. I NEED NEW PICTURES! mmm MUST TAKE MORE.
said i wanted to read at least 80 books this summer (20 books a mth).. lol. but i probably only read 5(give and take 1) so far and a stack of books of magic comics. not goood. gotta pick things up a little... hopefully will read like 50.. and get started on my essay too.its due in 6 days! *shrieks* and i still dont know if i want to do JOhn Donne or shakespeare or wyatt!! nooOOOOO!!
mmm.. im tired and my rooms messy and i need a new job. *snore* (#*$_)$(# gotta call golf town.ARGH. *slits throat*
mmm gotta get rid of my textbooks... and i would already get about 60 bucks from the school bookstore for some of them.. and the novels.. shall go downtown and hunt for used bookstores to sell them to for a couple dollars each while walking around. fun fun.
i always fantasized(and still do occasionally) about the romantic notion of being a stunningly beautiful and mysterious young artist (not artitse.. whatever u spell it).. usually up in my studio apartment working, living on a lover's caress and kisses and graham crackers soaked in canned soup whenever i remember to eat.. sipping wine and laughing at parties, exhibitions, seminars swarming with fellow passionate art victims, in that only little black expensive dress i own with exotic earrings i found in some dingy store at the corner of the street, before returning home to paint maps of the bluish veins running along his hands,hips, feet, the expanse of his sweet eyes. but then again.. no one would tell you about the poetry(or lack of)of the leaking roof, unpaid bills piling up on that ratty coffee table you found at some junk yard sale, the cost of soap strands of your dark hair would find itself tangled in, your lover's tantrums, the broken furnace.. and the cold nights your finished work would sit in a dark room, untouched. unappreciated. unsold.
and here i am, spinning an old fantasy from my imagination onto a keyboard in the middle of a warm afternoon after staring at MY unused little black dress hanging at the back of the closet i just tidied... im a crappy university stupid with no artistic talents whatsoever, unwilling to admit that i will never want to lose the luxury of the level of comfort my daddy has given me... with an unattractive allergy to any form of alcohol, however refined. not to mention my lack of that "stunning beauty" and "mystery"(lol).. PLUS, im picky about some minion job at some golf store and i want 5 nice cars in the future.
haha, shut up pearle.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:23 AM
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Sunday, May 22, 2005
i hate it when you leave like that -
with everything tumbling to a hush while the
tremor in my body does not cease.
the world harsh on my raw nerves,
exfoiated skin.
this raw heart silently sinks into scorched sand.
until you come back.
-purl-
mmm i want to go to starbucks or timothy's but there are peoples on sunday! :( darns..
Everytime I Close My Eyes - babyface.. *tears* its so dreamy! okok im the type of girl who is slightly ashamed of her music taste.. and im aware of how mushy and disgusting it may be.. BUT ITS MY BLOG AND IM GONNA USE STEREOTYPES AS MY ARGUMENT! haaa
Girl it's been a long, long time comin', yes it has
But I, I know that it's been worth the wait
It feels like springtime in winter
It feels like Christmas in June
It feels like heaven has opened up it's gates for me and you
Every time I close my eyes
I thank the lord that I've got you
And you've got me too
And every time I think of it
I pinch myself cuz I don't believe it's true
That someone like you loves me too
Girl I think that you're truly somethin', yes you are
And you're, you're every bit of a dream come true, yes you are
With you baby, it never rains
And it's no wonder
The sun always shines when I'm near you
It's just blessing that I have found somebody like you
To think of all the nights I've cried myself to sleep
You really oughta know how much you mean to me
It's only right, it's only right
In my life that you be in my life right here with me
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 5:11 PM
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Sunday, May 15, 2005
NOTE: this is entirely satryical and false and dedicated to my old man #2, Ronald Wong.
the singaporean-to-get-a-girl guide for desperate guys:
1. work your ass off and own a BMW 745 and pick your girl up everyday. unless you want to be a xp-victim, please act like the taxi is your friend instead of driving ur truck. its still better than the bus. lols.
2. dance and wriggle on stage like 5566 lord of the gaylords.
3. starve yourself and be sure to look like stickmen - gives you a higher chance of getting into the "pretty boy" catagory
4. if you are naturally skinny, you're in luck! lols
5. have plastic surgery and somehow fix it to look like members of 5566 or jay chou *shudders*
6. pretend your dad owns some prestigious software company and dole out on the drinks and presents when shes around. by the time she finds out the truth she would be too smitten to care if you are a pauper, which of course by then you are, after all the presents and expensive resturant meals
7. DO NOT even TRY to convince yourself you will ever find someone who is soft, white, and sews, cooks and pampers you like a king. Live with the newage girls, mister. YOU do the cooking.
8. try not to be patronizing when she insists on paying.. even though you do pay in the end. :)
9. pretend you went to a western country to study or something. she will fall on her knees and beg u take her home. even better if you already are an expat - bonus equipment gets you everywhere
10. in a nutshell, because of endless complaints of how supperficial and materialistic singaporean girls are, i have made this brief outline for those who have yet to snap a singaporean girl up.
THEN, as a comparism and a continuation of this joke, i will also provide a biased canadianized-singaporean guide to girls:
1. be funny
2. be intelligent
3. be loveable
4. drive whatever you want.. if its a scooter, get her a hot pink helmet with her name on it
5. have curly hair
6. tell her shes gorgeous and mean it even when shes wearing purple. lol.. and pretend she isnt fat.
7. split the bill, she would pay with all the inheritence she has.
8. be neat and clean
9. take off them socks at certain places.. haha
10. just be nice and kind.
lols!! promotion of one self. hahaaa.. its all jokes ok!!
omg i better get my jiggly arse to the gym today!! but shall bring dawne to chapters first, since she wnats to go there.. and get me my bodyshop lipbalm. dodoodoos... shall do some studyingtonight while hammys buusyy *blows smoochies*
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:25 AM
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Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Take Me Away - lifehouse
this time all I want is you
there is no one else
who can take your place
this time you burned me with your eyes
you see past all the lies
you take it all away
I've seen it all and it's never enough
it keeps leaving me needing you
take me away
I've got nothing left to say
just take me away
I try to make my way to you
but still I feel so lost
I don't know what else I can do
I've got nothing left to say
just take me away
don't give up on me yet
don't forget who I am
I know I'm not there yet
but don't let me stay here alone
this time all I want is you
there is no one else
who can take your place
I've seen it all and it's never enough
it keeps leaving me needing you
take me away
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:24 AM
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Monday, April 11, 2005
"I do not exist except in you" - thomas *something*
i don't know.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:17 PM
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Wednesday, April 06, 2005
too much emotional tv shows on today!!! its bad for my health.. i had to stop myself from bursting into tears twice today. TWICE!!! because of that damm oprah episode and missy elliot thingy. erghies wurghies.. REAL TEARS TOO!! STUPID TV I HATE YOU TV I DO NOT NEED EXTRA EMOTIONS. I DONT WANT TO FEEL SAD FOR PEOPLE. :(
aww saw Sana today.. after a whole year!!! she looks taller.. lols.. not that she needs to be.. just as nice as ever!! we talked for about an hourrr.. updating each other on stuff.. and university.. and stuff.. she spent 1000 POUNDS ON CLOTHING AND HUNDREDS PAIRS OF SHOES!! lol and she said i watch too much tv and its frying my self-esteem and shes gonna personally come to my house to beat the tube up with a sledgehammer and that ppl on tv get airbrushed and bronzed and surgerized to look that way. (but she saw this singaporean guy on this tv show once and said she wants me to take her there if everyone looks like that. haha) loools! like i dont know. but its all good.. we agree on one thing : ANGELINA JOLIE IS THE PERFECT WOMAN. PERRRRRFECT in every context. brains, face, body and heart. we both tolerate the bad movies just to stare at her. :) yes guys, im a little queer. i stare at angelina jolie. nono, not chad hugo or pierce brosnan(apparently they are good according to *ahem* someone. *rollseyes* ahha). verrrrry few guys get stared at by me in a good way. last time i did was today - at hammy. and the 2nd last person i can remember staring at is that guy at chomp chomp.. HY REMEMBER??!! WHAT A JOKKKEE!!
i think i got a toothache for some damm reason. i never have tooth aches. OHOH WORMS IN MY TEETH. shall go to dentist on friday. or whenever i go to sch. *swears*
arrrrrr body hurts :( havent been to the gym in a wholllleee weeek.. went today and did weight training.. felt like a huge fat pig. but for some reason i swear my bum got different or something. it just changed! maybe its in my head. maybe its the walking.. i dont want a smaller ass!! i just wanted it perky.. looks good in tight jeans :) but i dont :(
hey, i tihnk im getting over the anorexic skinny phase of mine. everyone can be gorgeous. (pssttt.. maybe coz im getting fat)
i was thinking about my english course(major authors one) this morning.. about how i used to sit in the lecture hall, feeling embarassed for my prof for being such a "fruit".. talking about the "soul", "love", blah blah blah in literature... until i realised everyone else there was soaking it in, leaning towards his words, relating, understanding, empathetic. .. then i i became one of them. i sorta decided im tired of being so hard headed and let loose abit. complicated emotions... regardless of sappiness and *irrationality* are the things that make humans people. im sorta tired of living the whole *logic/science* dominated life. maybe, i thought, this is the reason for my growing interest in literature. its like an outlet.. i repress it in real life.. i absorb everything else in ppl's words. so many things to say about this really.. and to think about.. i learnt so much in the past year.. my whole life has changed. I LOVE UNIVERSITY. and thank heavens(i say it now.. not before), i moved here. :) so much more to see and think abt!
: RED
who dya love?
hammy. and my imaginary hamster
name some of your things that are red
hoodie, lipgloss, imaginary wrangler
red symbolizes anger. do you have an irish temper?
lol i dunno what an irish temper is like
red is the color of blood, too. what is your bloodtype?
A+
ORANGE
orange reminds you of:
elephants and nail polish
orange is bright. are you bright?
naw, im dim as hell
name some orange things:
my orange flavoured chapstick, the picture of that bar of soap on my wall, lines on my diary
do you know anyone who has dyed their hair orange?
yea i had orange hair before :)
YELLOW reminds you of:
bumble bees and cars
yellow is a warning color. dya fear anything right now?
many many tihngs
name some yellow things:
the bottoms of my sleepy slippers, the fluffy things on my mittins and scarf.. the yellow dress i made into a shirt
yellow also symbolizes happiness. are you happy?
half half. happy about somethings, stressed about others.
GREEN
green reminds you of:
EVERYTHING! i love green! it reminds me of satin and silk.
green means 'go'. why is that?
heck, coz its inviting?
name some green things:
my moisturisor bottle, my diary, my walls, that dress from holt renfrew..
BLUE
blue reminds you of:
cliche time - the sky
blue symbolizes sadness: are you sad?
right now.. not really.
is blue your favorite color?
i like every colour.. but no, blues not my favourite
name some blue things:
my soft sofffft scarf, my underwear, my starry pjs, hammy's cushions
do you know why the ocean is blue?
its not blue u dumbass. hahaa its a light thing.. dontknow the details
VIOLET/PURPLE.
purple reminds you of:
violets and that flower store in citylink
purple is often called a 'weird' color. Are you weird?
yeah im weird
name some purple things:
my *ahem* pretty purple shirt, flowers, one of my lovecrazed octopuses i drew and coloured
have you ever met someone with purple hair?
yeah.. i like. black purple though
PINK
pink reminds you of:
okok im fruity. roses :(
is pink the most feminine color?
bah no. unless u are sexist and weird. its embedded into society as a sissy colour. and only sissies believe so.
name some pink things:
my anti-intellectual/academic piggy pencil case, my ae dress, the babygrl's lips(the girl i saw at starbucks)
OTHER
what is your favorite color or colors?
red, white, black, green
why?
mmm dont know.. ahhahaa cant think right now
black, or white?
black black black... unless my mood begs to differ :)
gold or silver?
mmm diamonds. plentiums. purple gold is pretty. silver is good for casual and warding off vampires, according to myths.
what colour does your life represent currently?
i duunoo.. its like an cross inky colour between purple and white.. like spilt paint that is dribbling across a whitish/greyish/sorta reflective surface. lols im insane
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:17 PM
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its almost been two hours and sleep, once again, refuses to descend.
All i can think of is you.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:41 AM
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Monday, April 04, 2005
"I am a continent of ics, drawne and quartered by longtitudes and latitudes, floating my islands - fingers, penis, toes and testicles - and if i draw myself into a ball, i am the very model of earth itself....
He smiled. what a pity , he thought, that i have sunk so low. Waisted by the Equator, indeed! Divded by the Tropics. Drawn and quartered by longtitudes and latitudes... Am i Dante Gabriel Rossetti? I pray not! Have i also lilies in my hand and stars in my hair?" - pilgrim, Timothy Findley
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:11 PM
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Sunday, April 03, 2005
its nothing, nothing, nothing.
shrinking violets shrink.
i will too -
sealed lips, shruken hearts
will sweep up
the space you left behind.
i miss you -
even when you are two feet away from me.
one can only swallow the gaps between the words that float by blind ears.
black, brown and blue -
the swirl of colours and the smell of caffine that diffuses into my skin in silence.
Why,
how come after it all,
you don't even tell me you still love -
me?
whispers of
nothing, nothing, nothing.
-pearle-
yes, im crying over nothing.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:48 PM
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Saturday, April 02, 2005
if you could only see
indeed, daryl. this is brilliant. i feel exactly like that.
"The past beckons to me but I heed not its call,
Sullen pain hidden behind its alluring doors.
Bittersweet is her sting, for joy and pain abound,
Moving with the pendulum’s swing, the maiden cultivates her halls.
The sister is no lesser mistress, impatience found,
Mercurial and dangerous, her rewards entice.
Choice is none, save be swept in her wake.
Look to her and grasp your fate, no one can deny
deny her siren’s song." (daryl,2005)
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 5:10 PM
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this is about Noah and the great flood: Not wanted on the Voyage, Timothy findley
"Everyone knows it wasn’t like that.
To begin with, they make it sound as if here wasn’t any argument; as if there wasn’t any panic - no one being pushed aside -noone being trampled -none of the animals howling – none of the people screaming blue murder. They make it sound as if the only people who wanted to get on board were Doctor Noyes and his family. Presumably, everyone else (the rest of the human race, so to speak) stood off waving gaily, behind a distant barricade...... they also make it sound as if there wasn’t any dread – Noah and his sons relaxed on the poop deck, sipping port and smoking cigars beneath a blue and white striped awning – probably wearing yachting caps, white ducks and blazers. Mrs Noyes and her daughters in love fluttering up the gangplank – neat and tidy – dry beneath their umbrellas – turning and calling; “goodbye, everybody!” and all their friends shouting ; “bon voyage!” while the daughters in law hand over their tickets, smiling and laughing – everyone being piped abroard and a band playing Rule Britannia and Over the Sea to Skye. Flags and banners and a booming cannon… like an excursion.
Well. It wasn’t an excursion. It was the end of the world. "
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:29 AM
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Friday, April 01, 2005
u know whats sorta pathetic..? i still cant call hammad's home without feeling bad. ha. sigh. dododoo...
mmm i shall bring my resume around tomorrow... chapters, garage, JACOB!(lol the one at markville though.. now i have no excuse not responding to their calls).. and i already applied for swatch and steward publishing thingamagig. i wonder if those survey thingys are trustable.. lol. its 40 dollars for a damm survey! i would do 100!
other than two pimples on my stupid forehead my complexion seems to get better lately.. Hmm maybe its the mediocre weather.. good fer moi. well tat bloody thingon my face is going away too anyways.. yay.
another of my old favourite songs:
Plush: stone temple pilots
And I feel that time’s a wasted go
So where ya going to tommorrow?
And I see that these are lies to come
Would you even care?
And I feel it
Where ya going for tommorrow?
Where ya going with that mask I found?
And I feel, and I feel
When the dogs begin to smell her
Will she smell alone?
And I feel, so much depends on the weather
So is it raining in your bedroom?
And I see, that these are the eyes of disarray
Would you even care?
And I feel it
And she feels it
When the dogs do find her
Got time, time, to wait for tomorrow
To find it, to find it, to find it
....
how come its so hard to find songs like that anymore...? even third eye blind disappoints me. mmm. i wish my computor had sound.
two things to ban me from:
1. magazines and sad songs and shopping and self-beating-up and feeling fat because i am fat. yes, but i should not feel fat even if i am.
2. food :)
seriously though, i got nothing at all against the pope. i SWEAR! hes koo. speaks 11 langauages! strong guy with firm opinions too. *light pat on back* if that fly at angus glen dies by today and i feel better by tomorrow for some weird reason, God does listen eh.
i still stand by what i said abt religion making life(in general.. not specifically) easier... emotionally/mentally anyways. few contradicts and almost no "outlandishness" are given room in the brain. it always gives people outlines by which they should live their life. ok, i must not have sex until marriage. ok, i must always be selfless. i will only associate with_______. i will marry a ______. i will do ______. i will ______. my life will be _____ to dictate. ye know what i mean? its so good! forget restrictions.. if u are truly devoted, they arent restrictions no more, they are merely routes u shouldnt be taking to get to heaven.. or nirvana, etc. maybe i should just join the anorexics club.. i will acheive nirvana in no time... by dying.
sigh, someone bring back the greek myths and heroes..i would gladly take the time to convince myself aphrodite emerged from the black sea and phosphorence made flowers bloom wherever her feet touched. the world sprouting from warring divine gods. i love the thought of flawed gods and goddesses, the human like, racked by jealousy and pains like us. not so transcendent and intangible... the one unreachable ideal sought after by swarming masses.
fuggin' hell. vanishing_lost_soul should get a attitude check. flippin' jesus. it makes me angry sometimes.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:11 PM
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Tuesday, March 29, 2005
oh im in love with timothy findley's writing. maybe i should start buying his books to add to my puny collection of favourite contemporary books. he writes the way I want to write myself.. well..but obiviously i cant do it.
the fear of oneself for oneself: i worry that everything i do, my "talents", my thoughts, are merely pretentious endeavours, that happen to have succeeded to this point of my life. well, so what if i wrote a few good essays, did a few relatively ok things? i cannot assure you that i am able to write another. im fake, farce. plastic. perhaps i never had any potential to begin with. perhaps everything i do was never original. that im only a hollow little vessel who plagarises, and lies. i fear.
sigh
damm i think im getting sick.. fer real. im losing my voice and im unbelievably tired lately.. its not even normal..
baa baa black sheep......
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:44 AM
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Monday, March 28, 2005
exam today! and i dont give a POOP. right now im imaging im some fat princess swathed in a satin robe(except its just a satin pj top with teddy bears on it) and jewelled slippers(my fluffy blue ones) drinking exotic hot chocolate(from tim hortons) and ordering slaves(dawne) to print stuff for me. sigh im so bored. the thought of being on the bus is already depressing. AND a blooody bible exam.. BUT honestly though, when u read some of the gospels from a literary point of view.. it can get pretty once in a while. meh, i just need to pass this exam.. and im pretty sure im gonna score for the first section anyways.. 5% in my pocket. just need another 5 more and im set.
omg im so fat now.. damm its too late to go to the gym now. GAH! how the heck am i going to walk in singapore like that?? people will point and laugh at me. i told ron to expect a fair dinosaur. lol. being unskinny = fat in singapore. EVERYONE IS EMANCIPATED there!! they eat all the laksa and roti prata they want and stay HALF MY MASS. PLUS, they are all tall and tanned and prutty with their huge smiles and sunkissed skin. i cant even imagine how bad im gonna feel. lol. mEH whatever, im gonna swim and tan and feel gorgeous. Hopefully anywyas. OOO i hope i stay at ngeeZEE(hakka for auntie no. 2)'s condo.. they only have a stupid puny pool which wont be able to swim laps in but at least its in tampines.....
damm it all.. im only dreaming so much coz im sooooooooooo looking forward to it!! ARGHHHH WHY CANT MOMMY QUICKLY GET THE TICKETS.. IF SHE LIES TO ME AGAIN IM GONNA GET SOOOOOOOO BLOODY MAD.. i dont care if she slaps me anymore. i'll offer the other cheek if u want. :) sigh.. i sorta hate it when u realise u are now so much stronger than your parents.. im not supposed to be able to grab my mom's arm in mid air to stop her from givin me the smack-in-the-face of the century. sigh.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:08 AM
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Sunday, March 27, 2005
sometimes the rock grows cold in her hands. sometimes her tears fall like icicles. sometimes, tiny words do matter. sometimes amongst it all, she just wants to be held.
spring's here and the sun's out! But the pile of books accumulate, blocking out the chirping of birds and streams of warm rays. she doesnt really mind being gently placed aside, so many due dates float before her too.. she just hopes this time he wouldn't let go of her hand.
...
rainbows rainbows!! im going to sleep. yes at 10pm! and wake up at 4 or 5 again.. *dies*
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:57 PM
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Saturday, March 26, 2005
"I'm tangled up in you, invisible runes tattooed on the walls glowing,
alas, here comes the morning.
- but falling always hurt."
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:05 PM
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mm just thought of my dad's friends crazy love story. he knew his wife since primary school... IN malaysia!! and on weekends she brings food to him in singapore when he was in ngee ann polytechnic.. WOAH.. like those old movies. bah, this only happens so much with chinese people. (im stereotyping here) if they are not assholes, even guys this generation make u feel so "secure" so fast. and they constantly treat u like goddamm treasure.. tthose i have encountered anyways.. many pros and cons. the unconditional devotion.. and they were still happily married too!!(until he passed away :( ) thats AMAZING i tell you... most of the world.. including myself.. can only tell ourselves it doesnt happen in real life.. and keep up with our daily struggles and internal battles.
timothy findley just got himself a new fan
"I don't have burn marks for nothing, my dear. I don't have these scars by chance. I'm covered with your fingerprints. Covered from head to toe and back again on the other side"
"Col sat back. he had peeled away Minna's lashes and - in the men's room had wiped the streaks of mascara from his cheeks. He looked - but not completely - normal. His beauty, though male, was not masculine. his eyes were too far apart, too large for that - and his lips too sensual.
Masuline had straight, hard lines. Col's were curvaceous, wet and inviting. Masculine meant iron thin lips; eyes that said no; the fingers that were always curled decisively rejecting any contact with male persons - and flesh that smelled locker room and sweat. Don't i won't let you - and sure as hell, i won't let me was the message.
Undo, women said. Uncurl. Unfurl. Lie back. Expose yousrelf. You - its you i want, not who you think you are. I want you - the person whole and naked on the bed. " - Come as you are, Dust to dust.
sigh, these people have a way with words. it probably does nothing for anyone unless u have read the entire book... mmmm.. well at least i had a good book as the highlight of my day.. stupid library charged 20cents for one page black and white photocopy.. thats evil. or i could have copied many more pages.. hmm.
i dont understand why i let words become to important to me. but i cant talk or express myself aurally to save my soul.
sigh im so *bleeeeeeeeeeeeep*-ing bored
yay aunty dorothy and helen said i lost even more weight since popiah night. bumped into them at the clinic.. maybe i really should start dieting.. and going to the bloody gym more than twice(TWICE?! WHO GOES ONLY TWICE?) a week to speed it up. they are probably just saying it to make me happy. i dont feel any thinner anyways(and i feel so bloated!).. plus i havent done anything... im just as thick as ever.
sigh, im tired of feeling ugly :.( the . is the poo on my face.
and my bf calls me "poo"!! *tears* haha.. i go with "goo" :.P
wow just wrote like 6 pages in my diary.. mmmm
*dies*
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 6:58 PM
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Tuesday, March 22, 2005
big boi. eh. I LOVE THIS SITE
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 4:47 PM
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Sunday, March 20, 2005
through this world i stumbled -
you're mean, im mean, im nice, you're sweet, im cold, you're hot, we laugh, we share, we understand, we misunderstand, we soar, we fall, i goof up, we crash. how long has it been? almost an entire year.. or more? it feels like forever - in a good way :) distance between us had its first major crack eversince that sunchips afternoon in the baking sun when we talked for almost 2 hours. a few weeks later the hairline cracks gave in and i realised how much you really meant and mean to me.
still, so much time after all the coy afternoons, we remain very often paranoid and misunderstood, perhaps refusing to take things for granted or did omitted words took its toll?
- but nevertheless amidst everything else, we, yes WE remain addicted(your word) to each other. absence makes the heart fonder? i think not baby, my day bad or good isn't complete without you. they say getting overly comfortable with time kills many things.. for me though, it gets better. i feel more like myself, i guess in a selfish sense this amazing bond of ours have done sooooo more for me than give me a gorgeous and hilarious bf who also assures me i shouldnt wear makeup and im not fat ;) - ANd, i want you more than ever.
PLus, you did get a free cookie for me and shared the double double you(and your fellow comrade nima) won from going through public garbage around york for hours this evening, leaving me in charge with your bags and laptop since im constantly hungry anyways. awws, isnt that sweet? lol.
what else can i say? that no one made me laugh this much, this freely? that i never told someone i loved him without flinching or any prompt and mean it? that the rare rare times i get to steal warmth off you are impossibly beautiful? that im strongly convinced EVEn better things may come? that i never had anyone who loves me so wholly? even for my disgusting fiction-book devouring habits, girlish moodiness, ditziness, my repulsive obsessive complusive capitalistic rants, my lack of self esteem, my shyness, my attempts to engage you in "intellectual" conversations that ultimately mean nothing in the bigger picture, my inability to remember THAT THING ON THE BACK is called a spoiler, my "bad" music and car taste... my imperfections held in by perfect and warm hands of a perfect person( well.. except for the times you kick me out of the car, purposely humiliate me in public, punch me, and make everyone think u have sexual relations with all your guy friends ;) )...
...with those usually curled pinkies :).
i always wanted to write a book, which would give me the excuse to describe the flat, broad white finger tips on your long curled fingers, quickening heartrates, the tremor of a surface when your voice echoes from the throat, sunlight scorching my forearms as 18degree cold air blasts from the vents as i watch your eyelashes flutter with your eyes on the road. i guess the blog will suffice for now.
dragons or not, i know the start wasn't a fairytale. what can i do but hope to understand one day that ideals were never really met? forget 6 times a month, we are already doing better than that! hahaaa...
"Stay in your lovely paris but think of me with every wild strawberry you eat, every scrumptious melon, and certainly every bite of foie gras. " - Shipwreck, Lousi Begley (yes, its the books i took out today. i am done with the girl with a pearl earring and im currently on page 24 of this one.... *nerdy toothy smile* :) )
with every calorie i injest, sleep off, read off, work off and accumulate, i think of you.
- till i found you.
eww im so ushy mushy ewww :P
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:14 PM
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Saturday, March 12, 2005
The times may have changed, but people are still the sme. We're still looking for love, and thay will always be our struggle as human beings." -halle berry!! shes an ok actress with an awesome bod... but i like the things she say in interviews.. and her voice is so smokey too.. haa.. meh
i dont get why women care so much about having the right boobs, ass and everything for men!!!! WHY?! dont u want them for yourself and not just MEN? *incredulous expression* i dislike myself because i dont come close at all to my own ideals because i think my junk looks bad in the clothing i CHOOse and would like to wear.. and OOBBVIOUSLY im not exotic as i wishhhhh i am.. and my genes disallow for certain things i want to change... its a veryy gooood bonus obviously if the guys love it.. but dont you want to feel good for yourself FIrst?
LIsten glamour magazine's jake.. i dont like models only because they are skinny.. i like them coz they are so differnt from the normal human being who eats 3 meals a day and will nver be 5 10'.. they can wear a sheet and still look exotic. they have all the potential to be shaped and moulded by anything.. makeup, a shred of clothing, a hot iron. their lack of body mass doesnt make their frail at all either.. it is jsut another type of ideal so far away from someone who isnt genetically blessed with stick figure thighs or wants to gorge on only coffee and ciggarettes. that is all. and OH coMON, voluptuous, monstrously thin, fit, curvy, neat, messy, blah blah blah..sexy women are for everyone! who said girls dont admire the brazen and dirty girls too? well im speaking for myself. :) its just superficial either.. its the AURA.
lol dawne and her teenage angst.. hahaa doesnt it suck when the whole house if filled with moody teenagers when the age gaps between kids are not big?? well i exempt hammy's family from this.. he is(and probably the brothers too) are probably alot more calm and composed than people like me and my siblings. lol. but then again.. im learning to contain my anger alot better by now.
things to do for today:
1. return games at eb for brother
2. exchange my lacey ae shirttt for a smaller one
3. buy hair conditioner
4. contact lens solution
5. do an outline for essay
6. photocopy natural science notes
7. tidy up my closet
8. yoga.. i pushed myself a little yesterdayyy at the gym.. haha was trembling at the end of it.. but today i just feel a tad sore.. esp my bum.. lol. gluetes! i can officially feel the slight girly bump of my triceps~ but i still have a hugeee belly.. lol. dododo. MEH. lets just say this fat kid is lazier today :)
haha yesterday my mom screeched at me to sit down and eat(i was running up and down the stairs getting my things to go out with hammy after every mouth full) and my dad had to run downstairs to see what happened.. haha. dramatic mommy.
lols that day i did bench presses with free weights for the first time i couldnt stop giggling with abhi peering over top and calling me muscular pearle even though i was doing only 15 pounds. but im weak.. my biceps were burning after a few reps.. and they call that a chest exercise!?? hahaa.. i felt nothing around my chest.
feel like wearing a mini skirt and boots today.. hahaa.. random urges
bah.. its too early in the morning and im already blabbering non stop. golly, i talk so much! :)
indeed poo talk is distracting.. *laughs*
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:21 AM
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i'm shy.
i laugh too much too loud.
i'm too indecisive.
i blend into the walls.
i want everything.
i think im repulsively hideous and fat.
i think i am of nil intelligence.
but its all the same,
coz in
his
eyes
im beautiful.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:24 AM
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Tuesday, March 01, 2005
sometimes i feel like, what i would belive to be a child, blissfully content with the tiny little bubble i reside in, its thin gleaming pulsing membrane separating me from the rest of the world. other times though, the bubble disintegrates - leaving me uncomfortable, naked, vulnerable in my unfamiliar 18 year old skin. who am i, huddled at the back of a public bus, voices and laughter swimming around me, suspending before me, excluding me. Not mine.
loneliness permeates this house. A theme my family scurries around and tries to escape everyday. my brother locks himself in his room day in and out, throwing himself into his school work, video games. dawne paces around restlessly, miserable that "there just isnt anything good to do". My parents, now seem so small and frail relentlessly lament to me about depleting savings, lack of jobs, recent badluck, the lack of friends, contacts, the aches and pains of this strange weather and growing older.
at night, this theme clings onto the shadows on the walls, soft glows emitting from under each closed door. We never say anything of course. do we ever? But isnt it obvious, the way my mother clings onto the phone with her sisters, her precious nieces and nephews, faint voices on the line. my dad reminices of days he failed english exams shortly after his arrival in singapore, his constant worries for his friend diagnosed with kidney cancer. the fondness and almost bitter tilt to my siblings' voices as they talk of their friends, the "old" life as they wandered aimlessly to and from each other's rooms, including my own?
We sorta know we have each other, and somehow then again we don't. Is something missing.. or is this just not enough?
we are almost merely hollowed versions of ourselves occupying this same strained space, wordless, fake. Personas employed and displayed during most dinners - personas that are slowly shed during the journey from the table to the sink and the first step up the carpetted stairs.
today is just another one of those days. all the doors are still open, each of us staring at something else completely different, our hearts moving to different music, our minds somewhere faraway.. from each other.. perhaps even from the isolation we place ourselves both willingly and relunctantly in. But we are accustomed to this. cold fingers and voiceless words. spaces.
voids. and pauses.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 7:29 PM
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somehow, baby i
don't feel quite up to par today.
The people keep talking and the
sun gets in my eyes. i
tried calling your name but
the wind stole my voice
again.
but i guess silence suits you fine.
silk, satin, cotton, cashmere pressed against
my numbed skin.
where are you?
the dew locked up in icicles,
moss buried under endless sheets of snow.
tell me it stays warm that
way.
i stare out at orange street lights and soggy white tire tracks.
i notice the shadows now. they whisper, mumble and creak, but
i can't read the runes. they shy away from me.
Even when i cry they don't come.
can you tell me what they are?
Would you?
-purl-
haha its like a sequel.. i blog so much my life can be complied into one crazy thick book.. fullllll of sheer uselessness. haha. sigh. maybe i should stick to trying out victorian/romantic period type poetry style instead.. this simplistic "contemporary"(i don't mean the definition u find in your dictionaries obviously) one says too much too blatantly.
according to one of the creations of don delilo.. writers use writing.. as "the convinient crutch and alibi for every failure to be decent".. haha sigh.. dont we all somehow find an excuse from everything anyway? sigh. forget it dont want to think about it.
M U S T go Reeeadddd........
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 5:07 PM
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Sunday, February 27, 2005
She's just a porcelain doll -
a cold, unfeeling porcelain doll.
So very mindless, indecisive...
Nonchalant?
Yet sometimes at night, when the dark clutches at her throat,
this doll weeps quietly,
Tears only a porcelain doll can cry,
Willing her brittle little body to shatter.
Shh, as long as no one knows.
Still, that painted smile and those glossy eyes (do not) betray
her hollow
Nothing.
Not very interesting really, all she does is stand amidst the dust,
hope gleaming off her polished surface.
No one really notices.
No one cares.
It's ok, don't worry about it, just put her back on that shelf over there.
She's only me.
- p u r l -
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:04 PM
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Friday, February 25, 2005
Hello Lyrics by Evanescence
Playground schoolbell rings, again
Rainclouds come to play, again
Has no one told you she's not breathing?
Hello, I'm your mind, giving you someone to talk to...Hello...
If I smile and don't believe
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream
Don't try to fix me
I'm not broken
Hello, I'm the lie living for you so you can hide.
Don't cry.
Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping
Hello, I'm still here, all that's left
Of yesterday
walled in, shut out, pushed aside-
my silence fits right into the gaps of the stream of voices.
perhaps thats where i belong.
Diverted laughter fills the gaps silence burned between the two of us in its wake.
The air crisp, almost tangy. The icy smell of the approaching season with mahogany leaves lying at our feet. The days we coyly circled each other, breathless and giddy from the exhilaration of every word, the briefest touch. Days, hours stolen and given stretched and shimmered before us.
I remember that one Thursday night so vividly – your bright yellow t-shirt and grey hoodie, rumbling tummies, my capris rolled down at the bottom to shield my bare calves from the damp chill, you shielding me from the rest of the world.
One heartbeat. Two.
Then it vaporized, was discarded carelessly. Perhaps forgotten.
been devouring books these days.. just finished maoII, middlesex, shopaholic takes manhattan and can you keep a secret since monday.. well no i havent been skipping classes just to read.. they simply became my amusement, my consolation, my escape.
no darling john keats, beauty isnt truth. beauty is escape from the dodgy-ness, the mundane- the "truth" often called "reality". why would i be content late at night feeling shelled out, discarded, temporary in my own life stories to read its "beauty" when there are words written from another's pain, another's life i can simply hold tangible in my hands to immerse myself in? why should i stare at my reflection searching for a trace of beauty when words feed my imagination with carbs to produce it in my mind?
words, words i press against my tired eyes, my sore shoulders. words i stuff into my skull like wads of cotton wool, that shrouds and displaces my vision and train of thought. but there is too much in real life i want.
can't you see? they are so predictable, my own. they sit quietly on my table with its slightly curled covers, the rustle of pages only a trick of the mind, an imaginary breeze. they offer me no warmth, no desire, no sound.. only words oF warmth, of intoxicating desires, music, light, hurt. i laugh, i cry, i dwell thoughtfully with these words. but they are so far away. but these feelings.. they aren't mine. the characters aren't me. once again, i dont belong.
how come it is always up to me? for once tell me how much i am wanted, let me hold those thoughts against my hollowed throat the way i hold printed pages up to the lamp. or just let me know. even being less than one foot away has become unfamiliar.
i walk in the falling snow, the wet swirling flakes melting on my reddened cheeks, my eyelashes.. alot lighter than the tears they held up an hour before. the cold was somehow soothing this afternoon though, it numbed my body, leaving only my concentration in walking across the ice/snow covered field in my dangerous shoes and my breathing to remind me im alive. tranquil almost, if you may.
why did i come? maybe i just wanted to get out of the house. maybe i just wanted a walk. maybe i just wanted to see you. maybe i just wanted to test the possibility of finding a little hint, an encouragement perhaps? maybe i shouldnt have come. not even yesterday. you tell me.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 7:52 PM
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Thursday, February 24, 2005
"there was no where i could go that wouldn't be you" (Eugenides)
awww, isnt that ushy gushy...? this writer is like the contemporary-er verion of that isabella writer.. i have one of her books somewhere in the depths of my bookshelf. they are both soo good.. the type of boooks you cant put down and u want to read closely coz every detail makes a difference... im pretty sure when i read it a second time it will not be exactly the same.
my room's mess is piling up again.. :S even my table.. oh god. hmm this weekend shall do some cleaning up.. REAL cleaning up..
"Chekhov's first rule of playwriting goes something like this :"if there's a gun on the wall in act one, scene one, you must fire the gun by act three, scene two." "
hahaa.. :) except now it starts as an introduction.
dodoodoo no ones at homeeeee.. no car.. TOO COLD OUTSIDE>. NO GYM!! *inflate*
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:13 AM
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Tuesday, February 22, 2005
"The only private language i know is self-exaggeration. I think i've grown a second self in this room. It's the self-important fool that keeps the writer going. I exaggerate the pain of writing, the pain of solitude, the failture, the rage, the confusion, the helplessness, the fear, the humilation. the narrower the boundaries of my life, themore i exaggerate myself. If the pain is real, why do i inflate it? Maybe this is the only pleasure i am allowed."
"Does writing come out of bitterness and rage or does it produce bitterness and rage?"
- Don Delilio, Mao II.
wanted to make a new template for my blog with these words.... but hey, MY BLOG NOW IS GORGEOUS. hahaha.. actually im just lazy. :) wow that book is filled with so much subtle gorgeousness.. only realised it by reading it closely last night during bible class.
writing drives me insane.. but i cant help putting everything into words. i scribble everywhere, i cant resist putting every little thought down.. when i cant i go crazy.. and when i do put it down.. i go crazy the next time i see it.
my moms a pain. so fricking annoying. holy crap. forget this blog.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:27 AM
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Monday, February 14, 2005
Hushed whispers
locked doors, i listen to the
scream of silence.
Admist piled layers of wool
and cotton. In the hollows of this shell,
i dream of you.
The clock ticks, under the stillness i can
almost feel the planes
shifting. I can almost hear
your deep breathing
as you dream.
Would you take me with you?
-purl-
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:11 AM
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Friday, February 11, 2005
until u have your next perk, life is but a cycle of misery. for example, i come home feelin poopish, thought chocolate might give a small slight sugar rush to remove the misery.. but i ended up more miserbale than before.. swearing i take up the whole counch.. then i watched chicago, hoping the singing and crazy dancing will be nice.. but no i just get depressed sitting there for 2 hours with nothing else to do.. so yay its over i run upstairs to see if i get msges.. but none.. sadder-ness again.. and then ok.. i dont have internet= frustrated.. so i go ot dawne's computor.. and im frustrated again.. coz no one of my interest is online and its just sad i need internet to be entertained. and now ranting on and on is making me just as miserable.. so.. bedtime u say? No.. sleeping so early is pathetic.. and tomorrrow im gonna be bored agian.. dammit really. why do i always have to be so sad?? as in sad case. im not even blaming anything.. im just one miserable frustrated loserish fat awkward looking loner with a bloody nose.
sometimes i prefer nights to never end.. i have a reason to be in bed and never wake up. tomorrow im gonna buy that thing that covers the eyes during sleep.. that way i may never wake up. yay.
good lord, why does patrick have to come online during my few brief visits to the world wide web?
does advil or telenol make u sleep?? i might need some tomorrow. i hate mornings now. wow i hated this morning. even better i keep sleeping i dont eat. fat kids shold really keep thier paws off the chocolate jars and their pig trotters on the treadmill.
man, i feel like *$#_(%*)$@!. i want to beat the crap out of something with a baseball bat. i dreamed of that for so long! comon' a car will be nice too.. i always visualised and imagined the rush of wind, the folding in of the windscreen, the shards of class, the ache in my shoulder and my right bicep, the crisp smell of rain after a sultry afternoon. oh wow, the adrenaline. thats right son, im repressed.
funny how i mgiht even be too weak to really smash that lovely windscreen in the way i fantasize i would when i actually do get the chance. and the chances of that is.. hmmm.. ZERO!!?? saw the pun? lol puns are funny simply because they arent.
bah humbug, i hate you world
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:16 PM
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Saturday, February 05, 2005
"For I've never known completeness
Like being here
Wrapped in the warmth of you
Loving every breath of you"
but isnt it worse when the completeness is snatched away from you? you cant miss what you never had. i always thought living this way is the best way to keep safe.. just watch me break my rules....
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:05 PM
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oooo now i know why chinese people of the earlier generation say "chi bao le mah" as a greeting.. even if they met in the washroom. lols. daddy told me its because food was almost scarce and it was something that wasnt taken for granted at those times.. esp since he was from the kampong. i must say, my dad came a loooonnnggg way. he only has a poly diploma and my mom dropped out of poly!!! and he has 3 spoilt brats in the tow. ooo *so proud* :D shh, dont tell them i said that.
i feel like talking about my brother and dawnetoday. JUST BECAUSE. well, lets see, my brother potrays himself as a brooding, hunched over arrogant fella who sees himself as superior to everyone else. he utters things that are idealistic and absolutely not practical at all... and everrr so often insulting to the max. my dad gets mad whenever he does it.. but meh, dawne soaks it up like bread and oil while i keep my eyes on my food. he's still a nice guy though, generous(he doesnt seem to be relenting to my grumbles about the wasteland though) and oh so honest, and im so sure he misses home too
DAWNE.. the only one who doesnt seculde ourselves to our rooms in a bad temper. she struts around, incessently yelling out orders and complaints that are more often than not HILARIOUS. and one thing, this girl detests change. its so annoying sometimes.. but..meh. her sense of humour and how she laughs at things i say makes up for it. besides, shes really goood company when shes feeling jolly. *brings out disney soundtracks*
its almost funny how moving here forces my family to sit around and have inner together almost every night.. i never knew everyone was so funny and somehow hammy played a part in helping me appreciate them a little more :) the sky's always stretches a little wider and is more beautiful when you are around. *smoochies*
yay my brother got moulin rouge and chicago dvds for me. *lols* im such a loser. MUSICALS!!
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 6:14 PM
++++++
my heart clamped onto the spindle
you weave threads of
the clouds of invisible smoke, my colourless blood
my smiles.
"collapsing was much softer,
bt falling always hurt"
sometimes it really does
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 2:43 PM
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Thursday, February 03, 2005
found my H.I.class of 2002 vcd lying amidst the dust with my old cds. well, i couldnt resist watching it.
another one of those days i wished i could read chinese properly.
*tears* its funny how i spent 3 years with most of those guys, 4 years in that school.. and here i am after 2 years++ sitting in a country 32hrs by plane away taking in the crazy changes. of course, i didnt just watch 4A's little clip... it was enough to make my heart ache and wish those days never ended. the O'levels didnt bother me.. i wouldnt mind going back even if i had to go through all the sweaty afternoons and stress and bad fashion all over again. i watched 4C's too.. all this while remembering how miss neo died while i watch her exchange vows with her at that time brand new husband in the video. i never thought she was that pretty, but really, cliches aside, in her wedding dress, she glowed.
just seeing the girls, the lanky guys, beng, even the people from other classes in the vcd made me realise how much happened AMONGST us all. interweaving threads, undertows of fate. yea, i believe.
we were like little intangible blots of colour of present selves, glittering, pulsing, but inevitably shedded, left behind.
so many of them are either alread enlisted or waiting to go into university after 2 years of JC. sure, i learn in school(now) that society's catagorization is ACTUAlly insignificant to the automotic self, and we are merely brainwashed to see it as truly important. but heck, leaving a school may be merely an official date, surely we all still feel something.
talked to daryl the other day.. who said perhaps we jus didnt change that much after all. yes we do move from phase to phase, but surely there is a constancy within ourselves. perhaps.
no way i wil ever wear shorts/pants that are higher than my hipbones anytime soon, nor will my hair be that straight again unless i rebond it again.. my shoulders are not as narrow(acording to uncle david, yes well its not my fault i enjoy swimming and working out... :P) i have a waist and hips(no yay)now.. and im probably 80000% fatter. (gotta start that diet soon... or i wont fit into any of the chairs when i go backto singapore.. lols) yeah, i discovered many of my pet peeves, my interests, little itsy things about myself and the people around me that make so much difference. well. unbelievable. i wonder how older people feel.
they probably dont notice it, but singaporeans (forgive me for the stereotype again, but mostly chinese speaking ones)tend to pull out stereotypes and clichely enact it, finding it hilarious. i used to tihnk it was just embarassing and found the chinese channels unbearable to watch.. but now, meh, its all good.
there used to be so many things i feel ashamed of about my culture, the sloppiness, the lack of refinement in many areas, the disgusting stereotypes, u know, the usual things people like me feel. it just frustrated me further aware that i was part of it. yea, that purl syndrome still acts up once in a while.
.. BUT hey, singapore beats dubai in everyway possible ;). hahhaa
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:14 PM
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wow i slept so good last night.. but i think i moved alot unknowingly.. coz i woke up in a position i dont remember being in. haha.. hmm i want to go to the gym but im getting so bored of that placeee... not that im lazy to run or anything.. its just boring!! u know how u want the product of something but the process just toooo boringgg? 40 mins of running gets realllyyy boring after the first 15. :( i should go take up some sport or something.. or i go learn dancing! now, that would be funny.
haha just had breakfast and 2 games of chess with dawne while watching bad music videos. muahahahha i beat her both rounds!!! lols it was fun though.. we keep yelling at each other.. at the tv. :) a very excitable family indeed.
i have decided to be a pain and say "sure, why not" to everything dawne says. :D
DID EVERYONE HEAR? LAURA MY TA SENT ME AN APOLOGY EMAIL!! i cant believe it. just because she mixed me up with the viet girl sitting next to me.. well, we are the only oriental peoples in that class afteral.. *lols* shes so adorable. i tihnk if i ever write anything and need advice for anything english for all my time in york, im gonna go to her. should i reply her? i know i should... but WHAT DO I SAY??!!!! my hotmail window has been open for so long... hahaha..
From: Laura McLauchlan
To: pearle wan hua
Subject: Re: An apolOgy
Date: Wed, 02 Feb 2005 10:28:11 -0500
Hi Pearle,
I just wanted to apologize for confusing you and An in class two days ago. I
hope I didn't embarrass either of you. You are both good students. Your
essay on Cohen's poem was particularly impressive.
If you talked in seminar it would be helpful to me. Otherwise I get to know
you on paper, but not in the class. I know you have plenty of insights.
Once again my apologies.
Best, Laura
so far i only got this :
Hi Laura,
Don't worry about confusing An and me during class, i know we both didnt take it to heart :).
i am still working my way through the Wasteland. I do not know anything about the WWI and im finding difficulty relating it to the war.
... NNOW what else do i say??!
oh dammits, i owe tod an email with my outline too. *pales*
okok, shower time the study.
oh, btw, i want a coloured grand piano. am considering electric blue, pink, purple, pale green or red. hahaaa
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:29 AM
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Monday, January 31, 2005
Covered in sawdust
i thought i was numb.
The fair queen sits indifferently on the icy throne-
as cold as her ivory skin of polish marble.
Her lips so red, so -
I'm tangled up in you, invisible runes tattooed on the walls glowing,
alas, here comes the morning.
- but falling always hurt.
The nymphs have fled.
Inside her ugliness swallows her whole.
In her blackened flesh, she reaches out
with bleeding hands.
Should i turn and leave?
the maggots in her eyes squirm with
life and a sort of reverberating,
almost hypnotizing
energy -
i-
-forgot.
Of angels and demons tunneling into your
dreams, whispering poetry and coaxing
sullen flesh with cool silk and a lover's burning
touch.
A mosaic.
Dark, thick threads, constantly weaving-
crude ropes
- wrapping the fray around your throat.
Hush, just don’t forget to breathe.
Beautiful she is, soft lips pressed against the unblemished smoothness of the sweet plum she
holds
so
delicately
under spring's dusk.
i can almost feel the fire in her hair
scorch my cheek.
I lay broken amongst the ruins.
Why did you have to go?
-purl-
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:06 PM
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Saturday, January 29, 2005
i swear i have done this before.. but DAMMIT im bored.
1. Full Name: pearle law wan hua
2. What colour pants are you wearing right now? no pants.. lol
3. What are you listening to right now? my own typing
4. What are the last 4 digits of your phone number? 6428
5. What was the last thing you ate? rice
6. If you were a crayon what colour would you be? red?
7. What is the weather right now? i have no idea.. havent been out.. *sobs*
8. Last person you talked to on the phone? hammy
9. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex: built, face
10. Do you like the person who sent you this? erms.. not really. lol
11. How are you today? fluctuating moods. pretty depressed.. now just bored.
12. Favourite drink? water.. milk
13. Favourite alcoholic drink? nil
14. Hair colour? brown
15. Eye colour? dark brown
16. Favourite colour? red :)
17. Do you wear glasses or contacts? both.. prefably contacts
18. Siblings, and their ages: bro-22 sister 15
19. Favourite month(s): late spring.. summer and early fall
20. Favourite foods: fat kids eat everything.
21. Last movie you watched? shawshank redemption.. again.
22. Favourite day of the year? mmm none really..
23. Are you too shy to ask someone out? yes
24. Most outrageous sex: mmm.. dont know :S hahahaa
25. First time: for what may i ask?
26. Summer or Winter? summer, u moron
27. Hugs or Kisses? Both... but only from hammy :)
28. Relationships or One Night Stands? depends on the point of my life where im at. right now.. relationships.
29. Chocolate or Vanilla? chocolate!
30. Do you want your friends to write back? mmm suree
31. Who is most likely to respond? no one! hahaa
32. Who is least likely to respond? everyone!
33. What books are you reading? currently no books.. but im reading T.s. elliot's The wasteland.
34. Dream vacation: somewhere hot and nice.. my mood is usually best when im constantly comfy... THIS WINTER IS KILLING ME!! AND MY MOODS! AND.. everything.. like every other winter. bah.
35. What's on your mouse pad? an ugly smiley face
36. Favourite Board Game? erms.. dont know.... ahhahaa
37. What are you doing tonight? complain about my burning eyes.. maybe read the bible and perhaps chat.. thats it.
38. What is your favourite smell? fruity, fresh, soapy, flowery light smells.
39. Can you touch your nose with your tongue? unfortunately not.
40. Buttered, Plain, or Salted Popcorn? mmm buttered. hahaha
41. Dream job: prestigious writer/ something important in the fashion industry
42. Favourite car? none.. ahha.. i want a mini NOW. NOW!!
43. Favourite flower? dark red roses.. and anything else BRiGHT coloured.. but i still tihnk flowers are overrated.. how do diamonds sound? ;)
44. How many keys on your key ring? 2
45. Can you juggle? no. hah
46. Favourite day of the week? fridays
47. Red or white wine? white.
48. What did you do for your last birthday? the beach!! and then morning at unionville... har har.
49. Lifetime goals? too many
50. What is the first thing you think of when you get up in the morning? why i cant sleep longer and hammy. :)
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:23 PM
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"the tears come down, not like rain, but like blows.
homesickness is just a state of mind for me. i'm always missing someone or someplace or something. i'm always trying to get back to some imaginary somewhere. My life has been one long longing."(80)
"... about the elusive nature of love, the impossibility of ever having someone so completely that he can fil up the hole, the gaping hole that for me right now is full of depression. i understand whypeople sometimes wnat to kill their lovers, eat their lovers, inhale the ashes of their dead lovers. i understand that this is the only way to posess another person wtih the kind of desperate longing that i have.."(215)
suprise suprise, from prozac nation - elizabeth wurtzel
what happens when you never feel entitled to feel that way?
.....
gawd my loathing of china increases everyday.. flipping useless countrry with too many annoying babaric people. the only reason why they are getting powerful is not because they have anytihng to be proud of bu because of their disgustingly growing population and increasing wealth. thank heavens my grandmommy(daddy's side) got out of that piece of crap soon enough.. or i wil do the world a favour and kill myself the moment i understand where i am. a woman was beaten to death for stealing milk powder!! and it was ony what, 4bucks? for the love of god, someone beat the crap out of those culprits.. break some ribs and hopefully their pelvises too.. for greater pain.. then slit their throats and hang them out to drip dry in public. i would gladly administer the cutting of throats. actually.. count me in for everything.
yes, i am indeed extremely prejudiced and ignorant.
you what else pisses me off? magazines with men in them saying how being un-confident is the greatest turn off of all.. oh comon. lets watch you feel sexy 24/7 with a ton of cellilute, wrinkles, a horrible job, minimal education and cheap clothing. lets watch u feel sexy when uhave no money to offer any girl a decent night out. lets see you feel even hotter when your best friend is a serial seducer..while u stand on the sidelines and watch, with your chubby/practically emanciated hands in your threadbare pockets. reverse psychology doesnt work dumbasses.. insercure women spend their lives struggling with themselves only to have u tell them in their faces their petty internal torment is ALSO unattractive. not everyone can be your next-door-star. of course confidence is sexy.. dURH, but i don condemm u for being insecure.? perhaps it IS a hurdle to get over to reach your full potential.. but surely someone will love you anyway. trivial/unbelievable as it is.. there are always reasons for someone to feel inferior.
haha just realised my blog doenst really inform readers about whats going on.. and is just filled with my whimsical and insignificant rants. ha, pathetic indeed.
sigh, i wish i can makemyself sleep for 20 hours a day. spares me of myself so much more. my eyes have been teary the whole day and i got the sniffles :( im not even sick. just bloody depressed. didnt even go to the gym today.. sighs, and yoga made me nauseous. *gags*
one of the most beautiful paragraphs i read in all my 18 years a few years ago:
"Just before reaching the top he bends to knock the snow off his trousers. In that moment, Norma joyce steps forward. She slips off her mitten and puts her wam hand on his cheek.
"Most people," he says, taking in the odd little girl, "would just say, you've got frostbite" " - A student Weather, Elizabeth Hay
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:41 AM
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Friday, January 28, 2005
Full of Grace
The winter here's cold, and bitter
It's chilled us to the bone
We havent seen the sun for weeks
To long too far from home
I feel just like Im sinking
And I claw for solid ground
I'm pulled down by the undertow
I never thought I could feel so low
Oh darkness I feel like letting go
If all of the strength and all of the courage
Come and lift me from this place
I know I could love you much better than this
Full of grace
Full of grace
My love
So it's better this way, I said
Having seen this place before
Where everything we said and did
Hurts us all the more
Its just that we stayed, too long
In the same old sickly skin
I'm pulled down by the undertow
I never thought I could feel so low
Oh darkness I feel like letting go
If all of the strength
And all of the courage
Come and lift me from this place
I know I could love you much better than this
Full of grace
Full of grace
My love
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:49 PM
++++++
oh gawd hy called at 7am on a friday morning to remind me she's gonna turn 19 soon!!... wHICH MEANS ITS GONNA BE MY TURN IN 7 MONTHS! *groans* and like every old person.. i couldnt get back to sleep ;) haa... jokes. awws, miss that gurl..
talked about stuff and boyyss.. always.. ahha... NOW I MISS SINGAPORE!! i should wear a tshirt around like that.. haha.. even this girl doesnt believe i havent been out clubbing everynight, chugging alcohol down or takng drugs and having a collection of numbers stacked up by my phone. *lols* okok im exaggerating.. but no one would have thought i spent alll my days sitting around on my fat ass at home or at school, covered from head to toe in full sleeve shirts and jeans, deriving entertainment, amusement, human contact, affection, etc. only from books and the close knit group of people around me.. instead of talking to anyone.. anywhere. haha, pearles not the same no mores :)
she doesnt go home at 7am in the morning while her parents are still sleeping.. wake up at 11 to go out again.. swimming and suntanning or meeting different groups of pals in a single day are no longer in her agenda.. nor does she have to justify strange behavior in guys to her own.. nor can she solve anymore math problems with ease or without a bloodied forehead. and well, most of all.. shes so stingy with money now and gets new clothing every month maybe.. and its not even much :) normally.. i would have 3 pairs of shox by now. *looks at filthy old one with the york fittness shoe tag* haha.
then again.. who would have thought i plan to devote the rest of my life to writing(privately or whatever).. wear a winter jacket everyday.. get to meet even stranger people, read THAT much.. think the way i do and actually get closer to a sister i used to yell and rant at only whenever im home. and finally letting myself fall for someone without any backup plan(s) ready any time i want.. be ok with the lack of the unbelievably busy life i used to have trying to make everyone happy, be happy myself with only 10 pairs of footwear and finally admitting being lighter skinned can be pretty too.. and that sleeping in that comforter of mine during cold weather is divine?
she said im constantly surrdounded by guys.. and i have the "tao hua yun"(did i say that riGHt??). with girls, there is always that sense of competition and tension there that i dont give a poop about.. i really dont ccare what u are wearing and how bad your hair is..or your ethnicity as long as you are nice. i mean, comon. that girl in the bible class is just one example that popped to my head right away. but most of the platonic guy friends(friends as in people i actually have a true tight bond with) i still have did go after me at one point or another.. or see me as just another obnoxious english-speaking sarcastic brat who would gladly stare u down. and sometimes after "failing", i lose a potential friend altogether.. they dont get im not gonna make a good girlfriend. go ask the ones who know. but whatever its still a good thing IF it still happens(im hideous and anti social now...)and the real friends stay behind. :) *waves to edward and ron*
sometimes i wonder if i whine too much about missing singapore.. i mean, its been almost 2 years.. and its my own fault i dont have a full fleged crazed social life or anything i used to crave. maybe i am.. but i want to justify it by saying i didnt leave that place as a little kid.. but when i was 7 months away from turning 16.. its just a pity(note: sarcasm) that i hang dear to the friends i had.. and hopefully still have. its my fault i remember how it feels to swim in the hot sun at 12pm.. the sounds of orchard road.. and the smell of the pool tables at marina and the dirty beaches.. and of course, the taste of the air at 6am in the morning when i drag my halfsleeping corpse out of bed to get to school by 7. perhaps im just too nostalgic.
whatever it is, as i sit here yawning at the comp.. contemplating the things i have to do today(drop dawne off at school.. go to gym[urgh so fat :(].. pick her up.. call hammy, go for my interview and then perhaps go to school to study if i have company)......... its all good :)
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:37 AM
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Tuesday, January 25, 2005
been reading today's lecture notes about karl marx.. who believes in the potentiality of a human to be complete -to become an intellectual HUMAN BEING. the only hinderance is nessecity, shortage -our BIOLOGICAL BEING.
although the lecture had only everything to do with economics and i might just be halucinating, but i sense some sort of resentment toward the earthliness(is there such a word?) of a person.. the fact that needing to eat, prevent illness, poo, and die is degrading, an embarassment almost. maybe i just read too much. maybe i idealise too much.. but i DO feel the disdain.
true pefection(to me)never really had anything to do with having the ideal car, the ideal jeans, the best hair. rather.. its about being so unreachable, so distant, so pristine that betrays nothing practical, nothing biological.. absolutely unburnded by anything, anyone, yet so powerful... and all its sexuality is merely radiation of an inward energy. but of course, if i do use this particular word in an every-day context, the meaning changes... to an every-day one. obviously.
perhaps this is a reason why i loathe my own existence so. especially what i need to maintain it. i see now why preachers used to burn books.. and what plato said about inappropriate/useless/romantic/bad literature/any influence corrupting the mind. tsk tsk.. i should have been born earlier and kept in the castles.. haha
omg the issue of feminism haunts me!! nOOO LEAVE MY HEAD ALONE!! i know i am not alone in feeling this.. which probably lead to many extremist behavior, like shaving their hiar off, refusing to shave their legs, wear skirts, shave their armpits, etc.. u know, straight butches, if u want to stereotype.. weLL!! im stupid.
i DO know i dont have to behave "like a girl".. and the fact that i am one pisses me off. and me being pissed off at being a girl perplexes me. and i dont even care if im a boy or not!! im just pissed off simply coz i am what i am! i despise the way i DO conform, succumb(whatever u want to call it) to the "petty"(perhaps???) side of society and not have the courage to actually do something. like really, what can i do though? "modern" LIFE itself is based on racism and sexism ANYWYAS! excuses, excuses.. if i was truly creative i probably think of something.. hahaa. u WILL think im retarded because.. DURH i AM SUPPOSEd to be like that anyway.. but im ashamed for enjoying my success in filling the behavioral cookie cutter. y'know what im sayn'?
prolly not. hahhaa. so pathetic. but no, im still gonna be the way i am.. like what everything tells me to.. embrace it all! with a dab of lipgloss and a spring in my step. *rollseyes*
sighs, and the sad part is.. i do exactly just that. *looks at my tiny pots of glittery lipgloss*
well.. im done reading my notes.. will study tomorrowww... after gym and while waiting for a vroom vroom home... i blog too much and type too fast. and i chat online to much.. dodoos
*blows smoochies for hammy* nite nite
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:36 PM
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Saturday, January 22, 2005
Aphrodite spilt
Glitter onto the swirling snow -
Iridescent.
somehow the wind stole my voice.
it's quiet. Shhh,
i can almost hear the decadent echoes of my reticence that
Bounce, flutter, thud, fly, against
the walls binding the cavity
of my obsession.
Whisper.
the heavy curtains sway like a geisha,
its dark oriental patterns, its languid
movements - reeling -
i am transfixed.
Violet velvet, the slight warm fuzz under my
cold palms - the bitterness of black coffee. Scorched tongues.
my fingertip grazed your name embedded in
Soft leather, like a lover's Braille.
the wind stole my sight.
Hold me
?
- purl -
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:37 PM
++++++
*phone rings* oh.. its only ahbi.
u know what sucks? sometimes u wait past 12:45.. thinking u should might as well just go to bed... and find that u just cant bloody sleep. then u get a msg.. Oh.. lets turn the comp on again... to find no one of importance online. psh. back to facing another hour of insomia. well, thats nothing.. why would anyone believe someone is looking for another person all night? i guess my "belief" that everyone i hold dear should have a cell phone is wrong. *shrugs*
well, u know what else sucks? when u get home after stomping around in snow right up to your knees(yes im flippin short) and being bored and then sit around on the verge of a teary tantrum constantly hoping he randomly calls u(even by mistake) or comes online not for you, but maybe to download something.. and end up having pretentious asses who badger u with false concern and painfully fake enthusiasm. its worse when they seem to have decided that they are now personally in charge of your welfare and happiness by harping how fukin' awesome life really is. sighs, how the heck would they know anything about bad lonely days that run on consectutively for a year and how my fluctuating moods long to shatter that jaw that holds that pretty huge smile of theirs? and then later scramble to make up for it saying, oh its just me today. *rollseyes* jesus.
gah, maybe i should just go to the gym again. wait.. it closes at 6. dammit. well whatever, dad wants me to shovel the snow again.. and i unintentionally skipped lunch already anyways.. if only i can unintentionally skip everything else too......
tomorrow i go.. i can almost visualize fat cells multiplying geometrically inside me while i sit on my huge ass doing nothing but wriggling my fingers at the keyboard.
stupid economics article is driving me insane. CONFUSION!! sighs, i'll get back to it after this. and that stupid bibleBS. seriously my dear god, get another job. u suck at this. ur followers cant even accept the fact that ur wonderous son may look just like any other guy from israel.. so sad. i hope they fight more and end up slitting each others throat at night. love thy neighbour and forgive their sins my ass.
maybe i should just sleep life off? how does that sound? i would need the help of alooott of tranquilizers though.
sigh, the cold. sometimes i cant even sleep because of it.. damm furnace. no well i want to blame god again. how come no one is out to shoot me yet? or am i going to pay on judgement day?
"up yours jack!" - my selfculturesociety prof.. *lol* dont know why i thought of it out of nowhere.. he said it while describing an analogy to explain self regulating markets.. colonel sanders swore!! man, i love hearing that guy talk.. he's so funny.. its just hard to pay attention once he talks for more than an hour.
*rollseyes* ok fine im gonna read antidurhing now. THERES A DURH IN THE TITLE! anti-durh-ing! hahaa is that what socialism is about?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 4:21 PM
++++++
sigh, im depressed this morning. so quiet at home... had a wrap which only had a thin slice of ham and chocolate spread in it(lol).. my books are depressing... no one to talk to.. im on the verge of shrivelling up from dehydration... sigh. haha.. well i dont know why im depressed. i just am. :(
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:22 AM
++++++
Coz there is nothing to do at 10am in the morning after breakfast.
1 . Would you marry for money?
mmm no..? i gonna be rich anyways ;) hopefully i wont need anyones help
2.Have you had braces?
nopess
3.Could you live without a computer?
dont know... hahaa
4.If you could live in any past time period where would it be?
mmm the victorian times.. 19th century.. and the 1920s.. and 70s..
5. Do you drink enough water?
occasionally.. when i remember
6.Do you wear shoes in the house or take them off?
haha of course i take em off.
7.What are your favorite fruits?
apples.. oranges.. grapes..
8.What is your favorite place to visit?
mmm well i dont know.. ahha
9. Are you photogenic?
i wish. im not even look-genic
10. Do you dream in color or black and white?
depends..
11.Why do you take surveys?
coz its so frigging boring here
12.Do you drink alcohol?
nopes
13. What is the most beautiful language?
heck, any language i know! i think mandarin is such a romantic language though
14. Do you like being kissed when you are asleep?
mm i dont mind i guess? well it depends on the person.. DURH
15. Do you like sunrises or sunsets the most?
both are good
16. Do you want to live to be 100?
not really
17. Are you tolerant of other people's beliefs?
yeah, with christainity as an exception
18.When you watch movies at home, do you like the lights on or off?
dim lights.. it depends on who u are watching with, dufus.
19. Do you believe in magic?
haha not really.. i hope someone proves me wrong someday
20.Do you think you can draw well?
not really
21.Do you like to watch cartoons?
hah yeah..
22.At what age did you find out that Santa claus didnt exist?
i never thought he existed.
23. Do you write poetry?
sometimes... havent written any recently though
24.Do you snore?
everyone does when thier respiratory track gets messed up or when they are dead tired
25. You sleep more on your back, front, or sides?
sides? i duuno.. i move alot during the night.. hahaa
26.Would you rather have a poodle or a rottweiler?
rottweiler obviously
27. Are you basically a happy person?
guess so
28.Are you tired?
not really.. my neck is just pissing me off
29. Did you drink anything with caffeine in it today?
not.... yet..
30. Have you ever met "the one" off the internet?
no.. wth? haha
31. How many phones do you have in your house?
7
32.Do you get along with your parents?
occasionally
33. Do u smoke?
nopes
34. If you're gonna talk to someone today,who would it be?
dont know.. hopefully i get to talk to him though :P
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:56 AM
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Friday, January 21, 2005
awws i miss you *sighs*
oh.. just checked the york thingy.. i got a B for my writers' introduction to literary theory class. meh, so expected. i say i got like a 72-80 for my essay(psst, only coz i liked that essay.. hahah) and my exam dragged it down.. coz my average before was like.. 78? meh. but they dont have other marks up! dammantation. haha.. but well i think im getting Cs in selfculturesociety and biblepoop and hopefully As in the other two. lols thats horrific.. lets see if the tea i have been drinking recently enhanced my pathetic intelligence which will then allow me to boost my marks. gAH! i dont even know what to do in my bible course anymore! im utterly lost!! hahaa.. whats another word for pathetic? im running out of adjectives(????) to demolish my self esteem with.
yes... tomorrow i shall clean my room up and refresh my obnoxiously fleeting memory by rereading my economic thingy..
mmm its been a unproductive but nice day.. but i aquired new scratches and killed like 600 calories with cardio alone today alone... yay.. if i keep it up.. im gonna lose weight in a couple of weeks! even better if i increase my weight trainging.. but meh... feel so lazy.. besides i have.. 3 more months before summer. hahahaa.. for now.. i'll get used to feeling ugly and repulsively fat and obese every second of the day or whenever i see my reflection in some glass surface. let me curse god one more time for not letting me be born to be tall and long bodied and legged. thank u to the personally-selected-for-self-torment gorgeous models and my racism toward orientals in this area(i blame my background + my disgusting personality!!) for rubbing it in.. at least i go to the gym with false hopes and constant disappointment that one day i turn out even SLIGHTLY close to what u are. no, why would i look at other ppl who are more similar to me? psh tosh.
im using summer as a motivation so as not to fall into depression in the midst of this winter. sighs.. my ppoor face hurts so bad now :( and i almost lost my fingers and legs maybe.. sighs. and a motivation to work out.. so i can wear anything i want in summer! yayyyy... and im gonna buy plenty of skirts! and shoes! and sandles! and dresses! get a tan, fix my hair and skin and get skinny and be glowy and feel prutty! go on trips! eat icecream! yeaa.. and this summer im gonna swear i will read a minimum of 30 books. comon, its nothing.. i got 4 months to do that!! yeah u get the picture.. its like i know i prolly wouldnt really buy that much nor would i will i look any differnt.. but yea.. stupid things keep stupid people like me going.
cant decide if i should go back or not...........
i should really stop all that leisure reading eh(even though im quite a geek to be enjoying stuffy classics.. gawd i just started on another canadian novel.. and i still have qutioxue and homer and chekhov to finish) and get on with my SCHOOl program instead. sigh, dear god, although i have ranted about insignificant matters, lemme raise another one. dont let me turn out as a geek who is indeed a pretentious moron. amen.
haha my mom just walked in to comment about that bit of spine jutting out of my neck since i was a puny kid.. weird. hahaa.. thanks to the past few years of swimming and yoga.. i tihnk the alignment has improved a little.. but its prolly gonna stay the way it is now for the rest of my life..
and oh.. should i go for the interview or not.. hmms.. i'll probably go........ i wont get the job anyways.. dododoODOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooo.. driving to fairview mall alll alone on weekends and miss out chilling at school and stuff with him??! *snores*
ooO i want an outdoor job in summer.. but.. erms.. ahem sir, where do u tihnk i can find one?
wheres hammy :(
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:44 PM
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Wednesday, January 19, 2005
SALOME
I will kiss thy mouth, Iokanaan. I will kiss thy mouth.
..............................
i swear im dying. random nose bleeds and i keep sleeping and feeling miserable when i do.. and feel even worse when i wakeup. and my skin and hair look like sh**. so dry.
damm comp restarted on its own again too. wtf really. sighs.
dammits i should really go to the gym more often.. im not determined! i want to be so skinny u cant see me sideways... maybe i should diet this time AND exercise.. and get myself a eating disorder.. sighs.. doubt it will happen.. my ribs already kind show and i look like a baby elephant with pig trotters as legs. and im so friggin short too. OH GAWD WHY DO I CARE?! its so insignificanttt.. hmph. i hate my self esteem.
hmm forgot to go to the financial aid office again.. hmms have to go tomorrow then... haha i told my dad i don want to pay for my own tuition and the osap loan is temporary.. rrrIIightt? lols... he laughed. *cross fingers* hahaha
tutorialtod sucks! he is only good for a friend or soemthing.. he sucks at teaching.. gah! maybe if he doesnt lose his train of thought that often, speak faster, tell things straight and clear (or actually SAY something), write bigger and stop looking so young it might help. for now, i suggest he stick to listening to his weird newfinland songs and being his buddies's friends. honestly.. he CAN be attractive too.. IF only he shaved a little more often, stood striaght and spoke faster. only then my dear, can u make fun of me being in love with him. :P
NOW, i gotta reread my socialism piece.. sighs. he confused me all over again.
that reminds me... I WANT TO COLOUR THOSE LEAVES ON YOUR WALL! they are soo fun!! teehee!
things to do on/by weekend:
1. osap thingy
2. get notes from someone for tomorrows class
3. get notes on satire too...
4. reread anti-duhring and make notes
5. OH buy that tinted moisturisor
6. do mondays tutorial and readings
7. do english readings
8. drink juices and eat veggies.
9. read chekhov
10 do a crazy clean up of room.. do all laundry, clean sheets, clean table, clean..clean.. clean.. clean.. u get the picture.
11. write a pretty blog or something.. doesnt have to be on the blog.. dododo
hahaa. another one of them useless blogs
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:13 PM
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Thursday, January 13, 2005
"you must have a cigarrette. a cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. it's exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied." - oscar wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
oscar wilde is a GEenius! never be satisfied.. keeps u coming back for more. well of course it all depends on the context. :) being content most of the time makes a happier person..
somehow i derive amusement from the disapproving expressions of certain people.. like today.. a puny skirt in rain brought me some weird looks.. and that day i wore the capris and hoodie out to timothy's when it was -3degrees out, grannies gave me such dirty looks i shiver with fun. there is just something about doing something that is technically legal.. but TOTAlly impractical.. its just funnier when people spot it and send those looks over.. well, thats only coz i lived by the rules for practically my whole life.. little petty things make me smile.. as long as they don't bring discomfort. oh well, a geek's life.
BEsIDEs, i get to be dropped off right at doors like a princess!
aww, i should start on the iliad soon... but.. i should study first actually..
eww, i feel so ghoulish and fat. *pukes*
havent written anything romantic-ish for a long time... and im in the mood today too.. its raining outside.. im fresh out of a hottt shower after a pleasant day, my soffft fluffy cool sheets, soft music, comfy pjs.. the cliche, u know.. but it always works.. thank god for combo #79: tranquilty+sensuality. dont think dirty *rollseyes*
things to buyy:
1. tinted moisturisor for bad skin/low self esteem days
2. white eyeliner.. its sOOO cool! but i dont think i will ever wear it.. hahaa.. not anytime soon anyways
3. lingerie.. i threw sooo much out everything else left is so.. BORING.. i want colours!
4. a gustav jung book
5. more oscar wilde.. apparently T.S. elliot is a genius according to my brother.. but.....i will just steal novels from his bookshelf...
6. A PRETTY PRETTY SHIRT (it means a top btw, my dear britishED singaporean comrades)! JUST BECAUSE! AND A NEW JACKET!!!!
7. OHH normal face moisturisor.. how come they dont have ZA here? dammits
8. a new cell phone.. Righhhtttt...
9. a right hand drive skyline(?) YES! i AM GOING TO OWN ONE...one day
10. thousands and thousands and shoes, flats, heels and sandals.. ALL FOR SUMMER AND SPRING! THATS WHEN I LIVE! well not thousands.... :)
11. a burberry/micheal kors coat... NOW, thats sexy.
okok.. im starting to rattle on abt my unreasonable demands.. i shall stop.. ahaaa but items 1-7 are neccessary :D.. OH, that and some new earrings.... or pants :D
im getting sleeeppyyyyyy...
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:14 PM
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Wednesday, January 12, 2005
mmm slept so much last night.. 10 hours! and my limbs still feel retarded.. haha.. stupid headaches.
can someone explain to me why when i read some people's blogs.. HUGE LONG MASSIVE words just roll off the tips of their fingers with such ease.. do they really tihnk in those long words...? wow.. coz if they do.. i feel really stupid.. *picks up dictionary* haha
the guys in singapore are all enlisted/getting enlisted!! sighs.. national slavery indeed. such psh tosh and time wasters. these kids could have gotten their education done so much earlier. the only good thing about it is that it churns out wayy hotter versions of the guys that use to walk around orchard road or hulk over the desk with their books 24/7 with their clothes dangling off thier razor sharp shoulders. and of course.. it never hurts to have a fit doctor. *wink wink nudge nudge* lols!
omg the mess in my room is.... piling higher and higher.. soon i wont be able to see the floor.. hahaa.. i can almost not blame my parents for yelling at me about it..
HMMM that one lingering question: should i go back this summer or not? coz if i do... i might join ron and his "gang gang jahat"(lols) to BaLi! yay a few days of nothing but sleep, sun, beach and talk.. but i will miss hammy and.. and.. and.. but.. BUT!!!
okok shower time.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:03 AM
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Friday, January 07, 2005
Deep inside of you - thirdeyeblind.. the one song i can NEVERRRR get sick of.. what a sad and beautiful song!! *sobsobs* haa
When we met light was shed
Thoughts free flow you said you've got something
Deep inside of you
A wind chime voice sound sway of your hips round rings true
Echo's deep inside of you
These secret garden beams changed my life so it seems
Fall breeze blows outside I don’t bring stride
My thoughts are warm and they go deep inside of you
Oh yeah
And I never felt alone
Alright alone alone
Till I met you
Friends say I've changed
I don't listen cause I live to be
Deep inside of you
Slide of her dress shouts in darkness
I'm so alive im
Deep inside of you
You said boy make girl feel good
But still deep inside still
Ive never felt alone
Till I met you
Im alright on my own
Till I met you
And Id know what to do if I just knew whats coming
I would change myself if I could
I'd walk with my own people if I could find them
And I would say that I'm sorry to you
I'm sorry to you but I don't want to call you
But then I want to call you cause I don't want to crush you
But I feel like crushing you and it's true
I took for granted you were with me
I breathe by your looks and you look right through me
But we were broken and didn't know it
Right oh what's right
Something's gone you withdraw and I'm not strong like before I was
Deep inside of you
I can go nowhere I burn candles and stare at a ghost
Deep inside of you
And some great need in me starts to bled
I've lost my self there’s nothing left it's all gone
Deep inside of you
Deep inside of you
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:34 PM
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from today onwards i will try to get 10hours of sleep and minimum 1hrs worth of exercise each day!! even if its random stuff at home it feels good..
wholesome and naive people are cool.. but there is just something about them that does not appeal to me at all.. take.. say A for example, shes seems so utterly perfect, with ok looks she is satisfied with, never worries about getting fat as she shovels food into her mouth, loving parents who spoil her, the perfect boyfriend she is so happy with, a job that keeps her grounded, an airhead for a bestfriend, a large social circle, perfect grades.. speaks in that soft, girlish and excruciatingly sweet voice of hers, thinks exercise makes a girl big and muscular.. which is therefore disgusting and unattractive.. and grew up reading babysitters club and nancy drew.. and shrieks at anytihng sexually explicit. tell me if there is something that bothers u.. coz it DOEs bother me. lols. im not even jealous of her.. her personality, energy and vibes falls flat from my point of view.. and every time she speaks to me or looks in my direction i dunno waht to do. lols.. its like.. ok, whats the right thing to say? would she even get what im saying? oh shit. hahaa.. well i guess this is what some people like, wholesome sweet girls. haaa..
oh u know what i dislike? laZy skinny ugly guys (of course, i have respect for those who ARE by choice and genetics and WHO have respect themselves)who try to dissuade(is there such a word?) girls from wokring out and getting athletic(im not talking about losing weight or body builders)i mean comon, look at yourself.. those girls can probably give u a nice sock in the gob if they wanted... u are just tryig to make yourself feel better and not intimidated. of course a powerful built is unattractive to you! coz u will look like a loser next to her! lols even ron admitted that to me. bloody stereotypes. why dont you just find yourself someone who boosts your ego and shut your mouth about such opinions instead? these people are probably more intuned with their bodies and loads healthier and glowier than you are. URGH i hate it when people use their gfs/bfs to compliment their lifestyle and boost their materialistic ego!! if u claim to care that much, dont flippin impose your unwanted and unconstructive views on that person, goddamit. just go home put your head in the oven! these peoples fall under combo #1 - assholes.
not u baby.. obviously.. haa..
that reminds me.. this fat kid should go to the gym soon.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:44 AM
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Wednesday, January 05, 2005
Found this at edward's pal's Shu's blog:
"what's love? it's such a small word. yet it seems to mean so much. so much so it gets weighed down like an anchor to the deepest depth of the oblivion. unknown. undefined. it's such a cliched question, too. which taiwanese dramas and hollywood movies made it seem like a standard to reach upon and something deep to ponder about. they made it such a sacred form of action, of human emotion. something so god-damned beautiful. so beautiful it hurts. complete with Kleenex and the corniest of 'radio-friendly' lyrics trying hard to disguise as poetry. and were brownings and jennings so embarassed. (i thank bob dylan everyday. and lately joni mitchell.) they made it so sickly sweet i swear i could die of diabetes. they made it so graphic. so erotic. like as though passion was made of it. some of them made it so unwelcomed. uninvited. because they built boundaries around it. this and that means love. not anything else. because that was what nature made it. the Above said so. it was also about pining. about suffering and crying your hearts out. only through a certain degree of sufferance can real love surface. like pieces of clothing, undressed. one by one. painfully."
indeed. but they are merely another form of idealists. overrated or the degradation of sex is merely part of marketting.
what if we DO love so hard it hurts?
i am but the nymph of the orions, the ocean in my hair, the cold sweetness you drink from my lips, the wildness of my widened eyes, the seams you undo with your calloused fingers. would you love me?
versus
i am only a girl, peppermint on my breath, the glitter on my trembling lips. would you love me for my imperfections, my weak arms, my breathy voice?
either i am too much of a romantic sometimes.. not the red roses, candles and craving names and hearts on trees type romantic of course.. or i idealize so much.
i should stop blogging about stupid everyday things eh.. hahaa.. URGH IM BORED THATS WHY IM BLOGGING OH GAWD
hmms.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:54 PM
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lol skipped tutorialtod today... and missed 2 buses.. And made someone miss a lecture.. lols.. tsk tsk.. what a bad way to start the new academic semester.. haha.. and then went home curled up in the Go bus seat from gastric pains :(
urgh im soooo fat!!!! MUST hit gym tomorrow befores going to school.
gotta get my glams decent and im gonna spend my summer in flowy/floaty skirts and hippie slippers!!
beautiful by thornlea is really good :)
was watching the sports illustrated model search. holy moly those girls are hideous!! and the whole thing is so degrading!! america's next top model has sooooo much more dignity! but oh wells.. i guess what matters most for sports illustrated is an ok face and a gorgeous body.. which MOST of them have.. how absolutely unfair! wasnt fun to watch at all.. no talk about style or fashion.. just wet bikinis and rolling around on the beach. dawne had the funniest contortion of her face when she watched it with me
somehow its funny how i sit infront of the tv watching these gorgeous bodies walking around (dont look at their faces. not good.)and how they are shrieking about the chocolate cake sitting in front of them and how they MUST NOT touch it! (oh lawrd~).. and im sitting on my huge rump with my short ugly pig trotters folded under me.. eating dinner, chewing on my rice..... sighs im pathetic.. who wants to be natural!!!?? if straving got them so perfect..... :(
blue eyeshadow and fake eyelashes are disgusting when im staring at a person's face. *shudders* and/or *laughs*
that 70s show is soo good! so cheesy.. but many times making sense at the same time.. AND I MISSED THE ENDING OF TODAY'S EPISODE! NOOOOO... today was sad!! hmms everything has changed in 30 years! i cant really blame grandmas and grandpas for seeming overly uncool and boisterious... *shrugs*
lols i want to sleep again... what a pig!! :D
should i get a hair cut??? dammits! i might give in to conformity and rebond my hair just to wait out the medium PUFFY hair phase.. NooOoOOo.. and my stupid face may probably not look good in those choppy haircuts i ADORE if i do rebond my hair.. NOOoOoo!! why must my parents be short and the way they are? why must i be so *ERGH* !!
anyhoos.. enough melodramatic superficial teenage insecurities.. anyone got a gun?
..and oh.. i want a polka dot dress for summer. :)
seriously, i need to get rid of my bitter ironic sense of humor on my blog sometimes! haha
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:08 PM
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Sunday, January 02, 2005
"Instead of thinking that thre was no future, all I did was plan for the future, treating the present tense and all its tension like a lengthy, labored preamble to a real life that awaited me somewhere, anywhere else but here. I would still be the same girl who spent eight weeks preparing for nothing more than a two hour ride home from summer camp, only now it would be my adult life that I would be waiting to escape to, believing as I started to believe at the time that if only I could get out of the house and away from the crossfire of my parents’ persistent shooting range, maybe I stood a chance." - prozac nation
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 6:13 PM
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Still a little bit of your face I haven't kissed
You step a little closer each day..
its not hard to fall.. and i don't want to scare her
you still dont know do you... sigh
new years resolutions
1. do not procrasinate... lols.. this is harddd
2. keep my room tidy.. *stares at stuff on table* sure...
3. be less moody.. hahaa i got killer moods.. they swing from one extremem to another..
4. be more patient... well.. i think i mellowed alot.. so.. yea. but a long way to go before i can get stabilize my fluctuating moods...
5. play the piano MORE.. oh gawd i really should!! maybe i get daddy to buy me another instrument....
6. get more sleep, water, eat veggies and fruits and exercise ALOT (if only kissing really burns 26 calories per minute!! hahaa.. i would know where to get my cardio workouts from!!)
7. grow taller (hahaa).. maybe wishing reallly hard might help
8. find the place where they sell confidence
9. stop being jealous for crying out loud!! just pretend ppl like those never exist! its all farce!
10. walk whenever i can... winter is disgusting.. but WALK.
11. get used to driving without casualities along the way..watch before changing lanes and avoid screeching from mommy
12. be nicer... and stop being mean even unintentionally.. :( i mess up alot on this one
13. no more sarcasm..think i improved so much!
14. learn something new.. ANYTHING good
15. use the sewing machine properly.. bahahaha.. so i can make new clothes out of old when i get sick of em!
16. get a job and save moneyyy.. no use buying more clothes if i dont feel super in them anyways
17. and oh, study hard. of course.
that will do for now...
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 2:27 PM
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Friday, December 31, 2004
this is disgusting.. im listening to the radio about this guy talking about defining moments in 2004.. the tsaumi that happened half way round the globe.. and how the prediction that the world will one day become a global village has been proven in that unfortunate inccident. he was speaking in that voice dripping with false understanding and empathy and how we share the tears and laughter with peoplpe everyone around the world. what seemed so far away has become *takes breath*... much closer *release breath*. tell me why is it so funny that the US knew that the tsumami was going to hit and when it happened blammed sri lanka for not having the technology to receive the information or the equipment to monitor geographical patterns?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 5:50 PM
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hmms.. i woke soo late today! 11:30! wow.. now i know why people who wake late take so long to feel alive.. it makes the whole body ache and i feel like i have reluctantly and uncomfortably become one with my bed. now im just gonna wait for daddy to come home with the car.. and i can go to the library.. or maybe i should just take the camry.. but.. i might just get driven there instead :)
cant find my green skirt!! wanted to wear it today with my fuzzy boots~! its warmmm.. urghs.. hopefully my dad knows where it is.. i havent seen it since theday i bought it.. for now im wearing another NEW but shorter skirt to match my black boots! haha.. looking pretty for the books and old libarians..unless i get company of course.. haha.. and im not even pretty. lol. reminds me of how hY wears her heels for study groups.. haha.. how adorable innit?
my skin sucks.. its not as smooth as before.. hMMms.. gah! but my hairs so straight today.. haha.. well its never STRAIGHt straight.. but.. straighter. ha. meh.
sigh.. the essay is such a struggle for me.. hmms.. took me 2 hours last night to write 400 words. pathetic. and it sucks too.. URgh.. hMms.. its ALL good. its still friday and im planning to go to the library. :D
i need to eat more fruits and veggies.. hmms.. low on vitamins. haha im so random and lame.
schools gonna start!! i miss school! im spending too much time with ffamily.. it kinda drives me crazy.. how i wish i had monday mornings off instead of fridays though.. gotta wake up so early.. and my dad is always pissed off at me on monday mornings.. hmph.
where is daddy?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:28 PM
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Wednesday, December 29, 2004
its kinda sad how im gonna spend my 3rd new year all alone in my room after my 3rd sad christmas.. haha.. at least i probably wont be crying this time.. or maybe i would. haha i probably will.. stupid sucker.. haa.. pathetic. how can i not get motherlandsick and not feel lonely this way really? and the funny thing is.. its all my own fault for being so useless. i think god wants me to straighten up those shoulders and realise the rest of my life is gonna be the same.. empty immaginary party tables and endless waiting.
wow.. i can still hear saheb's shrill voice echoing in my head. ergh. funny how AGAIN i get mistaken for a christian.. why though? coz im goody goody? coz i have a cross embedded in my forehead that is visible to everyone but me? do i praise the lord every 25 seconds? or is it my socks?
gawd, holidays make moi fat. *pukes at reflection*
im still indecisive about going back to my puny motherland.. sighs.
dear God, please deliver a loaded gun to me as my new years day present. it would be greatly appreciated. Amen.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:40 PM
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Tuesday, December 28, 2004
".. i dont tell her that i cannot stop the reeling in my head - the what if? and what now? - or that i sometimes wake up suprised to find that i'm still breathing, that i have not actually died from te pain of my loss, that instead i am anchored, continued and sustained by the esoteric motions of this mundane hourly job." - sheila squillante.. wow her story made me pause and hold my breath for a few seconds..
how come i feel like that all the time.. except i am suprised im still breathing because of the blankness of the days that blend into each other.. that even sleep is no longer a mark of the end of the day.. merely another few hours i get through.. and how i daydream and think about insignificant things. im so weird.. when im too busy i get that feeling too... im either too conscious about my body or utterly detached from it.. mmm
why i gotta go and be so stupid for? i need to buy a new diary and burn the old ones.
just watched 50 first dates and been listening to destiny's child for the whole day.. damm.. how can i believe love is so perfect from these movies and music? i mean comon' of course some brown eyed dude wouldnt mind staring at beyonce and missing her whenever he isnt kissing her. haa.. they lie.. making young stupid girls like me almost physically ache for such perfection. lol
im not pissed off, im not depressed, im not happy, im nothing at all. dododooo... hmmss i dont feel like sleeping.. but i dont feel like workin either.. got one paragraph down at least :D thats 120 words.. out of 1500.. ohoh..
dont u have that feeeling that everyone is moving away from me? kind of? i guess its just me. perpetually attention deprived. meh, whatever.. why would i bother going closer to me if i were anyone else? sighs
takes my pain away, i can't let it bother me.. dodoodo
im gonna try dealing with the fact that i will always be on my own.. and that i should stop seeking comfort from anyone.. people have better things to do -obviously. be there for the ppl i care about of course.. just remember i aint worth nothing. deal with it alone. no one cares. besides if i get cold enough it humbles my expectations and stops me from waiting and disappointment.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:17 AM
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Monday, December 27, 2004
they say william wordsworth made the private consciousness significant and public.. maybe it isnt such a good thing after all..
just read hy's blog.. makes me wonder.. she's looking/waiting for the perfect substrate, the One. what am i looking/waiting for? do i want to see everything in front of me as temporary? is it really stupid, naive, a crime, to indulge in my infatuations? do i want to say "we'll see", "you will..", "i will.." all the time? do i even want to hear it? must everything be NoW? can i not take my time? how come i block out my past and insist im a new person everytime a phase goes by and not take it in my stride? how come i draw a line separating the "past", "future" and "now" with blood.. why cant i see it as continous.. a gradual, not abrupt, shaping of a person? that there is a possiblity what i pick up now might stay in my satchel while i cross those lines? should i allow myself to entertain any of those? or im i just stupid to even consider that?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 2:28 PM
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women/girls like me are addicted to dying their hair some different colour.. getting new clothes.. not just to look good but to signify a form a liberation.. or to mark the beginning of a brand new something.. or simply for change.. a breakaway from the grungy old, the familar. what better place to start then the stringy dry hair hanging limply from your head? or if u cant lose weight. buy flattering clothing! make that tummy disappear for those few seconds. it never really works for me eh. in a week or two.. i notice the roots.. the same familar u were trying to get away from crawling all over you again. u sleep in the same room every night.. your heart clings on the same things, you still brush your teeth the same way.. your eyesight hasn't improved.. your weight still stagnant.. as much as u try to distract yourself from it. "yay, i got a new hairdo, new clothes, a new stereo, a new house! im a new person!"
bullcrap.
ridiculous how people like me use superficial/materialistic things like that to motivate themselves and then cry when they realise they really wanted something more.. something deeper. bloody weaklings. utterly pathetic.
oh btw, i just dyed dawne's hair.. its burgandy.. didnt turn out as red as we hoped..looks good though.. with her skin.
am rereading "she's come undone".. another proof how physical imperfection and anger can ruin your life. for some reason i dreamed of the movie "city of god".. hmms.. its pretty good.. somehow it has an impact on me.. weird.
sigh, im bored again. 4 more days to finish my essay.. and i only have brief notes. lets see.. i expect.. a D+ this time. me.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 2:03 PM
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Saturday, December 25, 2004
We'd Make Such a Situational Pair-Escapist.. this is amazing
Back beat philosophies:
Philippics praising, over-phrasing the blues,
Are storming in my ears
Stuttering stammering down to my shoes.
Their crackled-smooth appeal is not lost on my mediocrity,
But self-absorption still denies the postage stamp.
And in all ominous/fundamental manners of speaking,
(Tectonic tendencies / Threadbare tactics. .. Double assassination?)
The dust I think is settled just on the tip of my tongue.
(Mirror held up to my mouth It did not fog Should I have been buried alive?)
and you! You with your big band persona
The man without a plan, fifty's love ballad scrawled all over his palm,
What would you do right now for a pair of formaldehyde eyes?
No discretion
No salvation in a rare, rapid glance.
Just cluttered thoughts with the music ear quaking.heart/breaking loud.
Feel out your own combustion,
Wish for apparent indifference,
Anything to make you out to be as intriguing as any other introvert.
And there are theories on what holds any of us together:
We are the oblique
Rolling through autumn with mussed hair and the windows rolled down,
The bitter air staining our cheeks
Melody-for-our-melancholy,
Flushed, cursive-smooth,
Slick slick disasters of such situational pairs.
--Pulling our tricks
Like Houdini on a time crunch.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:28 AM
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a poem for my christmas
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:00 AM
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Friday, December 24, 2004
your voice drips with acid sarcasm
every word you utter sinks its talons into my throat-
what exactly do you want to say?
this christmas suck. been two years.. is there something wrong with me? why do i still find myself so alone after all those months?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 7:20 PM
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Thursday, December 23, 2004
perhaps you see the beauty in snow, water molecules stole of their energy to form white soft flakes that fall and melt upon the warm tongue. perhaps it warms your heart, the illusion of tranquility, the serene hum that fills you.
today this beauty suffocates me. when i look out the window i see a mess, an anrachy, a repression, through the rivults and condensation staining the clear glass. a huge massive white whirl that sweeps through the street and holds me prisoner to my house. how much longer can i bare those careless voices, the frowns, the clatter and excruciatingly annoying loud noises emitting from that buzzing machine with its long arm- it might as well wrap itself around my neck choke me to death.. anything is better than sitting here doing notihng. a breathing nothing who consumes resources. how i long to throw my bare fist through that plastic sheet, the fibreglass- the stinging electric impluses might wake me up, drown this numbness.this frustration. of course, logic begs to differ, of course im rational.
perhaps you enjoy the cold, the contraction of your blood vessels, your raw nerves, pale and pulsing against your skin. i dont understand how. it leaves me trembling, it robs me of CONTROL. whats worse than having a already disgustingly functioning body and having no control over how it feels? frigging furnace hardly works too. i hate winter i hate me i hate everything.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 2:37 PM
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these dreams invade
haunt
the consciousness which i keep
swaped in locks, chains and satin
ribbons.
this vessel where
guilt
slithers-
nibbles at its walls,
wirthing - the slimy tentacles
reaching for my naked jaw.
i can't leave myself behind this time -
im sorry but
i gotta go.
-purl-
urgh i feel so horrrrrible today.. woke up reluctantly at 10 feeling like poop. cant believe i didnt even jump up to the shrill piercing beeps from my cell phone from my competitor in waking early. instead i woke to the sound of rain pelting on my window panes. it jsut became worse when i looked out the window to find everything in sight lushly carpeted in white. i feel hung over.. except i never had one. :) and last nights dreams cling to my limbs and i can barely move. i blame pms. that unwanted spike in specific hormones. what a redundancy to life! oh the wtretched lives of those who possess the biological elements on which we place the blame~~!!
so much for the trip and im gonna be stucked at home.. AGAin.. no pictures, no fun, too much of parents, essay to write, not enough of hammy, no one to annoy, annoying room, annoying music, annoying me. cursed snow. cursed weather. curse it all! what an abomination! grrs.
talking about makeup with hy.. lols.. remembering how makeup never stays on my face.. even when i DO slap some on. what a joke. as much as i dont like my face.. i tihnk its better with minimalist makeup.. and everything with pinkish/light tones.. the mor natural the better.. eww when i have other colours i dont recognise myself!
but i admire people who can smudge foregin gunk on their faces and look so good. oh wells.. as always.. im inferior.. even in these matters.. how sad. stupid girls. dont u dislike girls? well i do. ditsy moronic creatures who are caught up wity their mirrors and their own lives they dont realise they are but insignificant vermin easily eliminated with the flick of a wrist and slight strain of an index finger resting on a trigger. goddamit, im one of them.
indeed, i am irritable today. stealing a glance of that ghastly reflection in the mirror while brushing my teeth didnt help ease it either. i want a punching bag. i can beat the crap out of anyone i want everyday.. imagination does wonders. its like daily catharsis!! besides i would have toned arms and a flexible torso and strong legs too if i kick.. and hopefully get rid of every bit of rotting flab hanging off me after a while. very useful thing to have when i raelly DO want to beat the crap out of someone.
i better get to my essay.. lets see if i can spend a minimuum of 1500 words bullshitting about how a poem fills me with wild unharnessed emotions, images of wonder expolding in the cavity of my imagination, the tingle in my gut, the dance of music to my ears. *smirks* but i cant start until laura replies my email... dont wnt to waste my efforts.. and dammits if i have to go back to york to do research.. argh. dont know if i should switch majors.. should i stick to social science or english? or do a double major? but then iwont have enough electives to take a language and a fine arts thingy. and my mom wants me to go to U of T.. WHy? like it matters really. im gonna do post grad.. then it aint gonna matter. hopefully im not too idiotic and mentally disadvantaged to acheive that.
bah, humbug.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:32 AM
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Tuesday, December 21, 2004
"If i were a poet, that's what i'd write about. People who worked in the middle of the night. Men who loaded trains, emergency room nurses with their gentle hands. Night clerks in hotels, cabdrivers on graveyard, waitresses in all night coffee shops. They knew the world, how precious it was when a person rememberd your name, the comfort of a rhetorical question, "how's it going, how's the kids?" They knew how long the night was. They knew the sound of life made as it left. it rattled, like a slamming screen door in the wind. Night workers lived without illusions, they wiped dreams off counters, they loaded freight. They headed back to the airport for one last fare."
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 5:00 PM
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Monday, December 20, 2004
yes, you were right. my feelings for him never waned over those months.. but
everything was real.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 7:56 PM
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Sunday, December 19, 2004
its funny how real bimbos either embrace it fully and make themselves look even dumber or they deny it to the end, making themsleves look worse. so, in my case, before anyone says anything.. i will be a self proclaimed bimbo.. airhead and all, but without the looks.
i drive
rusted nails into my
own heart.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:00 AM
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Wednesday, December 15, 2004
its funny how i asked for a wakeup call and end up doing it for the assigned caller. haha.. its also funny how i never get my ribbons after so many trips out... even though there are 2 of us.. maybe freud would have something to say about that..
and oh.. i want that silky pale green satin ribbooon...OOoo looks and feeelss sooOOOo gooood!
i type and type and type.. i think i talk too much.. but.. i like talking.... :( writing helps me phrase my words more comprehensively.. and most of my weak "humor" comes better through my writing.. im pretty sure some people laugh more talking to me on msn.. haha.. im not "bUbbbly"... im overly talkative. thank heavens for blogs.. or i would have to find another outlet.. :D
my hair is driving me craAazZaAayyY... its like.. past my shoulders now.. but the layers are sooOO puffy and OCCasionally wavy..in a bad way!!! its almost like i have a tail at the back.. how annoyyingg.. why doesnt it grow faster dammits.. maybe i will try the mayo trick sometime in the next 2 weeks.. if i end up with an oily scalp i will murder. urgh my complexion sucks.. and my mom keeps critcising me.. really u cant blame me for thinking im not worth walking out my front door. i feel bad enough in my bedroom.
that bottle of icedtea had been sitting in front of me since monday.. and its not even half done.. who ever thought pearle doesnt drink iced tea that much anymore? haa..
i should be studying.. but i really dont want to!! i will study tonight when i get back.. read through allll my notes and pretend its all not bs.. seriously! nono, dont get me wrong.. i still adore literature and i think poetry is magic.. :)
the radio has horrible music.. i neeed happy and party music for yoga/pilates!! forget the calm breathing and quiet moments.. loud music with amazing beats motivates me better to make it a tad more cardio-ish too. unless, of course, i do it before i sleep.. its even better than a glass of warm milk on a sleepless night.
hmm ashley is mean and.. interesting.. she has graphic nicks on her msn i dont want to read.. lol.. today is slighly better : " oceans12 is soooo good.. oh god.. brad is so hot.. i swear i orgasmed".. *pukes*
that reminds me! i have to go shoppppp.. maybe tomorrow or something.. when no one is around.. even helia is going to north carolina..
okok i shall control myself and shut up now... .... ....
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:57 PM
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Tuesday, December 14, 2004
from Blankets - craig thompson.. he spent the night in her room but they didnt do anything.. he just watched her sleep.. wow, to be worshipped this way... evErYthinG is almost poetry~~! so bittersweet.. the only times i can really think that way is when im truly calm and feeling smoooooooothered(in a good way of course).. either that or im just a sappy loser :)
Thank you God,
for your perfect creation.
With skin as soft
and pale as moonlight,
the bones beneath
her skin
tangling and
rearranging,
Rising along the
iliac crest, and dipping
into the clavicles.
Thank you
for the RHYTHM
of her movements
curling ---
---sprawling
Her contours
lapping like waves around
the Blankets.
She is yours
She is perfect.
a TEMPLE
with hair
spilling over
her temples.
Pressed against her
I can hear ETERNITY --
hollow, lonely spaces and
currents that churn ceaselessly,
And the fallen snow
welcomes the falling
snow with a
whispered HUSH.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 7:04 PM
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Saturday, December 11, 2004
pretty poetry...
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 4:04 PM
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Friday, December 10, 2004
Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)
sonnet XLIII
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,-I love thee with the breath,
smiles, tears, of all my life!-and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
suCh a Gorrrgeousss poem!! many people will cringe and balk.. but this is written in the 18th century! awws.. and gues what? i memorised it good already :D *kaching* 10 marks for my exam :)
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 2:35 PM
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is is jsut me or is everyone gorgeous except me :( *sobs* sighs.. meh lemme go watch tv and feel worse.. tata
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 2:22 PM
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Monday, December 06, 2004
haha.. talking to gary now.. everything is changing!! this guy is actually fun to chat with on msn now~ haa.. and for some reason i just thought of that time i was really down after the breakup and i was confiding in him for the firsttime.. he was soo nice! and even though i know he just wanted to pat me on the back by saying "becoming more pretty liao ahhh" at the end of the convo.. its really nice of him.. not because im happy its true or anything.. but its such a itsy bitsy sweet gesture... hmm, just thought of it.. and he thinks im catholic :D another one of them people with that misconception..
hmmmsss.. bible exam later.. if i get a zero..i would get a 42%.. coz im getting a 76% currently.. and then for the next quiz.. i have to get a 90% to pass.. hmmmss.. and then i wouldhave to pass the last test at the end of the course too and im done~.. mmmm.. at least i got my parents ready that im failing at least one course :D
urgh i cant stop playing those n'sync songs!! they are so catchy and so easy to sing along u cant help but put it on repeat.. as much as i hate it! arGgh~~.. hahaa even dawne is hooked on them from spending so much time in my room yesterday.. haha what a joke.. dawnes so funny!! *cuddles*
i hate it when random people touch me without permission.. even my mom.. arRGh. i want to punch em. so annoyyingg.. meh
feel like hopping around....
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:18 AM
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Saturday, December 04, 2004
life sucks
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:58 PM
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Wednesday, December 01, 2004
im no Hamlet but i do tend to talk to myself..
purl's solilloqy:
someone tell me how do i not get jealous? of course i cant have the world. of course i am sooo imperfect. of course everything wont go the way i want it to. of course everything takes time. of course things change. of course there is always someone out there who will have what i dont. of course, silly willy, stand straight back up and suck it in.. and go find a way to inject some intelligence in that slow and low capacity brain of yours.
go study and stop wasting time, u fat loser.
- end -
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:32 PM
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Tuesday, November 30, 2004
ok.. the anti-tod blog as promised...
"ARghs! who is a self proclaimed hard marker who says my paper is well written and gives a 67%!!!?? thats anNoooOoyyyinggggg.... and he gave me a whole explanation about how dr gittins wants to keep the mark between 60 - 70% just so york isnt known for handing out As and Bs all the time.. ArGhies! and then he gones on and on telling me to be confident and that it isnt that crazy hard to get into post grad~~ OF COURSE IT IS HARD AND I WANT TO DO POST GRAD!! i probably be disowned if i dont anyways.. he did his masters with a 74% average........... 0_o (lols)ARRRGHHHHH~! im gonna drop out of university.. after failing my stupid bible course.. adn my essay for literary theory...... i will have to slit my own throat..arghiess.. seriously.. maybe im just stupid... dammits.
sighss.. Very Irresistable by Givenchy is irresistable indeed.. what a yummy smell.. i want it!! :( but im soOOOOO broke.. with like 5 dollars and some change to my name probably.. i even got my dad to return the matching him and hers alfred sung set coz i felt guilty.. *sobs* and i want those earrings.. and.. and.. damm it all! how come my parents arent billionares?!!! hahaa.. nawws.. im already glad they actaulyl got this far and raised a moneycrazed monkey like me even without even a uni degree between them.. heck, my mom only has her O'levels!
im the perfect consumer.. my attention is so easily grabbed with perfect advertising and marketing.. i would just buy something just because the people did such a good job.. hahaa.. hopefully there will be more people like me IF i ever get a job like that.. har har har
i, the amazingly lazy twearpish RoBuSt(haaa) reTaRded useless pearle law, needs a job. (haha.. my brother was complaining about this book that does this [unneccesarrily longgg describtions]repeatedly after every few lines.. forgot the title.. i hate being so tired.. everything floats by me.. )
im gonna do craaazZzAazY~ i get so confused with the whole bible thing :( and my essay!! OH GAWD!!
things to buy :
1. green highlighter
2. ribbons (a bit of every colour)
3. buttons (just 5 of em')
4. paint (maybe next time... :( )
5. those cutely fake chanel earrings that already cost 25 for crap plastic and sparkles(grrs)
6. short cardigan in a BrIght colour
7. coat
8. Very irresistable .. of course i dont need it.. its just my inner girl who wants to feel glamourous
9. underwear
oh the things i think about.. i should be shot.
yeah and i decided to call myself "robust" as a synonym for FAT.. lols! so much fo being positive
oh god.. i cant tihnk..will probably dream about the bible and moses beating me with a stick for getting so confused.. im in such a dazeeee... will go to sleep as soon as i get my stuff from hammy.. will study at school tomorrow.. *stabs self with gleaming knife*
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:47 PM
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Saturday, November 27, 2004
spending too much time with parents can be really taxing.... *tired*.. hahaa..
I SHALL STUDY! yes....... *rollseyes* i think i have to be locked up and beaten before i actually really study.. sighs
i have decided to ditch the super casual loook(unless of course im tired or for last minute reasons)..im gonna be chic and preppy.. yayyy.. tomorrow's shopping will help.. i sorta know what i wantt... but i dont want to look like everyone else either.. hmms..oh wells
sigh im cold..
headache..
maybe i should take a nap.. and wake at 11 to do my tutorial for monday... :D
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:18 PM
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Thursday, November 25, 2004
was reading about childhood amnesia and primitive people for one of my classes.. and somehow the collision of sensuality and sexuality of a person stands out for me. in my reading of childhood amnesia by schachtel.. it talks of the alienation of the sense of taste, smell and touch as we grow older and gradually pick learn the schemata of the adult society.. which is language, rules, etc. and we, as civilised and highly hygenic people, rely on sight and hearing to gain experience due to the lack of proximity of people, things, etc. it talks about the "conventionalization of experience" as we are slowly moudled into the structure of our specific society... which means that in order to remember an eXpErience.. we HAve to use language and rationalization.. which tends to shape our thoughts and feelings according to the words and logic.. and makes it cliche and doesnt do exact justice to the feelings and the essence of the experience itself.Then there is the temptation of the word.. which im not gonna even talk about. haha..
and the article about primitive people talks about how the notion of romantic love only developed in the western societies due to the lack of promixity to the peple around them.. and that we are basically subconsciously intamacy-starved people who have that huge gaping hole in our lives until we find THE ONE. all this makes mt think of the concept of a chid/person/adult's desire to "return to the mother's womb" where is is kept safe and closest to another u can get.. and how people use sex as a substituition.
and then there is sensuality.. which to me is the engagement all of a body's senses.. the smell of rain, the taste of wine, the touch of silk. WHICH i think is what brings a person the greatest intamacy with his/her surroundings... but how the heck can one really remember it without distorting the REAL feelings involved with languge? but how can u lick a table like a child and think its ok anymore? how do u chew on a battery with all innocence and truly experience anything the way a child does anymore? this means we basically everything is distant to us.. only for us to utilize and get things done.. and live life with. THIS, i think is the reason why WE make such a big thing out of sex.
romance, rose petals, poetry.. we dedicate so much to love.. we argue relentlessly about its real definition... some say is simply caring for someone with upmost purity.. then say a love doesnt work without passion. what IS passion? the burning touch of a lover? a smoothering kiss? happy humping? what? why do we put in so much emphasis on it? yeah.. coz it feels so good.. and.... what then? is that gap in our souls so prominent we would do anything to fill it? why does it feel so good on so many levels to us?
and then some people say its the greatest bond between two people.. the highest form of intamacy. i say they say this because these are rare moments(compared to all the time u use to do other stuff.. durH) that we are truly sensous beings again. poets, writers, aNYone interested devotes a charge vocabulary to "passion" itself. the rawness of touch, the barest of the bare, the taste of lips.. yet with this vocabulary we can ahrdly express ourselves.. we try anything. we talk, we sing, we kill... we do ANything to be in touch with ourselves DEEP inside. INSIDE. we are civilised people, we cant go around talking about the rawness of a chair, the taste of dirty socks.. the thought itself is probably naseating and funny to most of us(including myself).. but surely a baby doesnt think so! it puts everything in its mouth :D
is this also why people get lonely.. and long for someone else to hold them, to lie beside them, to feel warmth of someone else's skin next to them? the powerful need for connection with another person.. the talk of 2 becoming 1. is that why i read books, searching for one that would hit me right in the spot.. a single word that explains my life's longings? not because im feeling randy but for a COnneCtIon! ...beacuse connection with a printer just doesnt do it does it? im pretty sure primitive people respect and has a connection to a broken piece of tree bark the way a baby enjoys chewing on cushions.
is this why we place the importance of trust and commitment in a fufilling sexual relationship? simply coz we cannot tolerate the fact that we let ourselves become instinctual and absolutely bare to just anyone.. BEcause everything else around us is held at a distance.. that we have to selectively let people IN? Bar the windows, shut the gates, lock the windows, chase every thought away, the world is you and me, this moment is yours and mine. .... suddenly every person is actually on his/her own.. we shut everything out.. and we search for another to let in.. everything is about "us" about "you" and "i".. no, nothing else. im pretty sure this selfishness/isolation of an individual/self never occured until the western civilizations.. primitive people and babies never had this problem.
mmm.. there are many things i should explain above but meh.. not like u are really interested.. hmmss.. i am only talking about being such as i, who search for intimacy rather than only a good time.. well they often come together anyways.. to me :).. so of course.. there are people out there who do not need the connection. they are fine and dandy holding the world away from them like stinky underwear the way everyone does. AND durh, people arent always this serious im sure.. :) hmmss... then i read magazines about the generic/stereotyped masculine image of guys abut how there is no such thing is "making love", merely the hightime of sex.. and how they can never understand all that talk about commitment and wishywashy-ness and sissiness of having a connection. *shrugs*
i duuno.. u think? im reallly curious and i want to know...i would love to rant on and on about things like dreams and some other stuff.. haha.. but neh.. the reader would fall over and die.. hmmsss....
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:56 AM
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Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Ardent and Outspoken
by Constantine, age 17.. *claps claps*
Perhaps your games are
a little too much,
And wicked glances
drive shards into your
emotions – confused and befuddled as they
are.
Gregarious as your nature
is, it blinds you to
your losing battle
where you tread unawares
between hopeful and
Hopeless.
While you recite words like
from a book, your actions
speak more heavily.
And hoodwinked by sheer undaunted
character,
You distance yourself from
Me – another pawn in your
worn out game –
my emotions are a well used
and discarded blanket –
remembering the days when
I warmed you
And I had more than
fraying edges to remind me
of your ardent and outspoken
Desire.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:09 AM
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Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Because we believe a beautiful body and a strong body are the same thing.
Because you should always be proud of the woman in the mirror.
Because feeling good is the same thing as looking good.
Because moving is so much better than standing still.
Because the best beauty is the kind that inspires others.
Because a powerful body can move mountains if it wants to.
Because to be truly feminine you have to be truly strong.
Because your body is an instrument and only you can play it.
Because the world can always use more strong and powerful women.
Because your body is ready to come out and play.
- nike ad
its cheesy i get it from a nike ad.. but i so believe in that... its your body! let it drive you, or drive it. whatever it is, love it. keep it strong. its your body, no ones gonna tell you how they prefer it or how it should be. stupid but these things inspire me. powerful women inspire me. i love the notion of strength. physical strength. emotional strength. an internal strength that comes from the combination of those two....
haha yes, stuff that makes me a happy fat ass
haha yes im feeling werid.. hmmss
monkey beach is an amaaaazzzinnngggggg book!! couldnt stop myself from finishing it for the 2nd time.. hmmmmss
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:30 PM
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Saturday, November 20, 2004
thinking isnt all about being able to articulate your thoughts efficiently. my heart is flooded, bubbling, overflowing with emotion. cliches roll off the tips of my fingers, i erase the words i form again and again.. nothing seems right. what is original all seems repeated. is it not original for me to feel the way i do? they call this feeling "indescribable", this feeling that renders us "speechless". we search for words. I search for words. i dont have the excuse of scorching hot chocolate. words that would reach right into my core and gorge out the "essence" of this feeling. a word that would spread me raw out on the table. yet again, what i speak of is another cliche. like many others i struggle with this battle. should i simply give in? the fog tonight cloaks me in almost tangible arms while i reach for yours. how do i catch my breath, remembering stolen moments, the fleeting surges of desire - to hold, to possess, to undo. how did you hold this cracked and jagged mirror? how i wish you didnt have to go so early.
thank you.
......
i feel so much. but what do i say?
......
on a happier and funnier side note.. dawne just breezed into my room telling me about her parody of cinderella. in her story, the ugly step sister exchanged the shoe for her own.. so the prince had to marry the ugly stepsister.. and her last line was.. " and the ugly step sister lived happily ever after. The prince didn't." lols! :D and her view on techno music.." WHAt? u call this chilling music? why dont u watch me have a seizure instead?" ... sigh :) distractions like that are always good when im feeling the way i do today..
.......
im so angry! i want to scream!
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:31 PM
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Wednesday, November 17, 2004
The sparkles caught in the tangle of her tousled hair, she stands against the orange horizon.
The coffee’s still brewing.
The taste of iron and salt fills your mouth.
Light crashes into the room and sets her eyes on fire.
Angry noises fill your ears.
The phone is ringing. Is the TV still on?
Tears flood the air in bubbles at the collision of her heart and yours. Running mascara, the tendons tracing the curve of her porcelain neck.
Soundless lips.
Her gleaming cheeks, bare feet.
She never looked so beautiful.
The laundry is done. The dryer’s beeping.
You reach out. But lightning bounced off your own t-shirt into your eyes. Your hands hold her silhouette and the gale from the swinging door.
Suddenly the room is dark again. How long are you going to stand there?
Go get the coffee, answer the phone and turn the TV off. Your dryer’s still beeping.
One of these days she will come back.
Breathe.
Are you still there?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:44 AM
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Tuesday, November 09, 2004
well i just sorta came out with a rough outline for my suzuki essay..it was soo hard to do :( .. ahyhoos.. a passage from white oleander suddenly came to mind:
"it was a strange feeling, him looking at me as i aimed. i found i couldn't quite lose myself in the target. his eyes spilt my attention between the C in coke and my awareness of him watching me.
And i thought, this was what it was like to be beautiful. What my mother felt. The tug of eyes, pulling you back from your flight to the target. i was at two places at once, not only in my thought, my aim, but my bare feet on the dusty yard, my legs growing stronger, my breasts in my new bra, my long tanned arms, my hair flowing white in the hot wind. He was taking my silence but giving me something in return, a fullness of being recognized. i felt beautiful, but also interrupted. I wasn't use to being so complicated." - Janet fitch
isnt that so pretty? haha..
been thinking about my need for control.. maybe its time i crack tat window open.
my eyes may be cold.
crystaline.
but your steady gaze smoothers my throat -
the vaccuum of my soul suddenly exploding.
pushed down and swallowed. i gulp for air.
you let me trace the blue rivers that pulses in the palm of your hands
with my numb ones - but listen,
can you hear the beat?
gravel on the road spins and holds the silence that floats between our soundless lips. did you notice the slant of light that divides you and me?
tell me if its okay i want to cross the line.
you hide
the tears that cling to your eyelashes because it disrupts a
clear mind and an opaque soul.
i may not be a romantic - but
these arms that hold you do feel
when they do.
last night,
did you notice the fleeting -
warmth that flooded my skin, my racing heart?
oh, i would collect the rain, the disappearing snow flakes in my cupped hands for you! please dont cry. just -
tell me if its okay i love you.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:04 PM
++++++
Sunday, November 07, 2004
Untitled/Uninitiated - by Shuming.. edward's friend.. i like :)
The hues of oblivion
strays like the mahogany stripes.
Freeflows of drops
stoodstill
on the honey-coated outside.
Ice-cold.
Their beagels and cross-breeds.
Their hot and ice-cold.
The poker heart boys.
The crimson lips and her
lit-up,
her nonchalance rose like the
clouds of indifference.
And gulped a lip-ful of
dark bitterness.
Roasted with a void of sacharinne sweetness
as if her whole life was
consumed by painful Twilight she was
too collided to barely mention.
Cold, cold, silent wind
shakes Solitude like a tight violence.
The male Cleopatra in his metallic barge,
must have sat at ten-thousand marbles
and caffeine in ice with six chocolate cream cake
and a forehead of forty!
Triumphant, he lay still (albeit without an infinite variety)
and lit the world of ice-cold nicotine,
like clouds of indifference.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:55 AM
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Saturday, November 06, 2004
humourless smiles and rainy eyes you choke on your forced laughter. did you know i live to hear your voice on the line once again?
the sun's out again. im sorry i have to go.
give me your hand this last time. let my lips graze yours. i thought i could see your face in my artifically glossy nails.
i made my bed this morning.
sleeping to dream about you, but im so tired.
you tell me that you expected this. that i should make the right choices. that i will always be wrong and foolish.
that red disappointment fleetingly visits my eyes again.
how can i explain that i never wanted this?
maybe years will make us grow. perhaps your heart will heal and be as good as new. perhaps i will wake up one day.
when the sunshine pours in.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:31 AM
++++++
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Ten years and More - Miriam Waddington (1917)
When my husband
lay dying a mountain
a lake three
cities ten years
and more
lay between us:
There were our
sons my wounds
and theirs,
despair loneliness,
handfuls of un-
hammered nails
pictures never
hung all
The uneaten
meals and unslept
sleep; there was
retirement, and
worst of all
a green umbrella
he can never
take back.
I wrote him a
letter but all
i could think of
to say was : do you
remember Severn
River, the red conoe
with the sail
and lee-boards?
I was really saying
for the sake of our
youth and our love
I forgave him for
everything
and i was asking him
to forgive me too.
its such a simple simple poem.. but.. so raw. rawness just hits me right there. feeling very oddly frail tonight
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:16 PM
++++++
time nudges my heart a little further
into the dry sand
with its toe each passing
hour.
your voice i do not hear
lick my lips, i think im going crazy
of coffee mugs and
rainy days.
the echo that fits in the hollow of my
arms inches its way towards the
exit.
sing to me, that man on the radio
but where did you go? i watch the sky's tears
drum its beat onto
the rip in my heart.
i miss you. how many
more ways can i spell that?
7 names for tears. what replaces the heart?
hmmmss.. raniy mornings..
was so tired last night.. i really came home, changed and hopped into bed.. haha..
time to do work today.. URGH im so stressed seriously.. i think im gonna drop out of shcool. omg.. i suck at everything!! :'(
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:36 AM
++++++
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Comfortable - john mayer
I just remembered, that time at the market
snuck up behind me and jumped on my shopping cart
And rode down, isle 5
you looked behind you to smile back at me
crashed into a rack full of magazines
they asked us, if we could leave.
Can't remember, what went wrong last September
though i'm sure you'd remind me, if you had to
Our love was, comfortable and
so broken in
I sleep with this new girl i'm still getting used to
my friends all approve, say 'shes gonna be good for you'
they throw me, high fives
She says the bible is all that she reads
and prefers that I not use profanity
your mouth was, so dirty
Life of the party
and she swears that she's artsy
but you could distinguish
Miles from Coltrane
Our love was, comfortable and
so broken in
she's perfect, so flawless
or so they say, say
She thinks I can't see the smile that shes faking
and poses for pictures that aren't being taken
I loved you
grey sweat pants, no makeup, so perfect
Our love was, comfortable and
so broken in
she's perfect, so flawless
I'm not impressed, I want you back.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:18 PM
++++++
Sunday, October 24, 2004
everywhere i turn i see the issue of feminism. For mondays i read penguin classics, i read virginia woolf and her rage towards the disparity between the genders, the female being the inferior. i see magazine articles ranting about the hiphop culture and how demeaning many of its components are for women. i hear of friends shunting rap and its sexually crude lyrics. on fridays, i listen to TAs fume of disney and its way or perpetuating sexism in the modern western society. i watch people on tv gasp in horror at the traditions of some primitive societies that obviously worked against women. i read the bible and i see the glaring differences between the male and female. i look at my own bookshelf, and i see books addressing this "problem". and some how i cant stop thinking about it sometimes.. such as now.
i know feminism isn't about exterminatig men and punishing them for the generations of torment and repression, like the manifesto called SCUM by someone (i forgot the name). rather, its simply an attempt at obtaining equality between the sexes. i am not here to argue for or against feminism.. i just want to talk about it :) and yes, of course i see a problem.. i just dont FEEL it.
throughout the years of my childhood ( i mean like.. till now :D),suprisingly, brought up in a considerably still very conservative place, i never experience any difference in the way i was treated and the way BOYS were treated. i never thought boys had cooties, or if any differece in their body parts matter one bit when im trying to kick them in the shins or when i am wrestling them to the ground. instead, i was one of THEM. i wore ties(sometimes) for kids, i ran around in shorts and boycotted skirts and dresses for a good 4 years of my life probably. i rolled around in dirt, scrapped my bloody knees a few times a day from tripping and running. and i punched anyone who made fun of me. yes, i did wear a skirt to school.. but who said i couldnt wear my shorts inside?
on the other hand,during quiet moments at home, i dressed dolls up and enjoyed watching my mom dress up(she used to do that alot when she had lots of work and all that). i played with plastic miniature cooking utensils and used lego as substitutes for "food". all this while, my parents said nothing.
maybe u can say i wasn'tbrought up in an awfully "traditional" "chinese" household in which mommies tell their daughters to sweep the floor and behave like a girl. that your body is a treasure and weak structure that existed for your future husband. that you should do the chores and let your brother sit around and munch on chips. you had to sit a certain way and speak a certain way. i know i have some friends who had that at home, or at least had that said to them at some point of their lives. i never had that.
once, during dinner, my mom told me and dawne(we were poking at each other and giggling madly) to behave like girls and that she made a mistake and has three sons instead of one. at this point,most kids would sullenly stop what they are doing and sulk. we didnt actually, we rolled our eyes and told her maybe she did, and who cares really? and no, we didnt "behave like girls"and ended up with bruises and pouts. and that was the end of that.
i read of corsets and fainting spells the victorian women perform as a form of feminity and laugh with humor. my family makes fun of the whimsical details of the ideas of feminity from when the dinosaurs roamed the earth.. and in other societies, they were just "different" who is to say if something is "good" or "bad"?. my parents never pointed out scantily dressed females and labelled them. they never dismissed "rough" women either. sure, i didnt want to wear skirts.so they buy me pants instead. i did what i wanted and got what i wanted. i cried the same amount for a barbie doll or a set of plastic swords.
somehow, from watching people and reading and growing older(obviously my body changed), i naturally and inexplicably transformed into a GIRL. teasing from BOYS stopped and they stare atme with widened eyes at what i had become. "what the hell happened there?" people like Ben would still punch me and challenge me to a duel with bamboo sticks, others like patrick, starts hitting on me and calls me his babe. what happened to sharing band aids for bleeding blisters from climbing monkey bars?then again, im blessed to be put in co-ed schools for my entire life. it helped in opening me up to many more ideas.
by then, i am so accustomed to the "equality" i had been enjoying for the past 14 years thatit took me quite a long time to see the "reality".
for a good whole year, i became an angry teenage girl, who stood by her "girls" and condemmed every evil male i encounter. books with any hint of sexism disgusted me.. i had outbrusts even when my friends say something about what a girl should and shouldnt do. well, i guess things changed again.
its cliche, but when u find yourself blushing at your crush, or shortening your hems so you look better, or dresing up to receive positive attention, you realise you are enjoying this. who cares if i had to sit this way or speak softer? im getting all the attention from boys! who cared if sleeping beauty had to be beautiful and stupid? she got the prince she wanted didnt she? who cares if men couldnt have babies? ask the mother who cradles her babyboy in her arms right after labour.who cared if you tittered in highheels? theres someone to open the door for you.
and all of this comes from the seven deadly sins.. but thats another matter entirely.
maybe i just got too used to this.
most times i take for granted that everything is still equal. so what if the top ten favourite people in canada were men? the women who didnt make it probably werent good enough. that was my actual first instinct. realising the difference and pondering about the possibility of biasness came later.
i have difficulty putting labels on girls. bitch. slut. hoe. i dont care. so what if she doesnt wear any clothes? so what if she screwed a differnt guy everyday? so what if she grinds her crotch against someone else's? it is her choice isnt it. its not that i ignore it all and i dont see how demenaing it is or if it is bad or good. its ultimately her choice, and really, thats just another person doing what she does. i let it all slide by me. to me, you have it, you wnat to flaunt it? go ahead. enjoy.
well yes my mom seem fond of giving me talks about respecting my own body and that being a girl DOES have its biological disadvantages or differences u can say. but then its all just biology and my own choices no?
of course, i glad and proud for what the feminism has accomplished so far to allow me to have such a neutral-ish childhood and for me to take so many tihngs for granted. of course. *salutes*
after all, im someone who enjoys being a girl now. i dress up, talk about boys, enjoy university and probably relatively huge amount of freedom in many other more important things in the future and rush home from school every thursday to watch the America's Top model on tv.
for now, even though i do sound awfully "passive" and petty, in the society i live in, its all good :)
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 3:56 PM
++++++
Saturday, October 16, 2004
i told
unforgiven lies
yet i crave
for everything you are.
the night no longer offers solace
but the medium in which my
pain
manifests itself upon
my worm eaten heart.
im sorry i
disrupted your life.
im sorry i
dug out a hole in my soul.
im sorry i
shoved you aside and went outside
to rot.
im sorry i
cannot weave words of rhythm and magic
of lemons and other words that do not
distract me.
im sorry i donn
your t-shirts - just
because.
im sorry you let me get away
im sorry i
got away.
im sorry i
need you.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:59 AM
++++++
You glance at the glasspanel.
she sits alone in the corner, staring into space, big teardrops rolling down her pale complexion, her lips of the same pallor. You wonder what is wrong, if she had a reason to cry, if she even smiled at all.
you eyes remain fixed on her, listening to the laughter that rings against the hollow of this freezing lounge, where people of dazed expressions or big laughing mouths sat huddled in their sweaters and coats. she does not make one move, except for her trembling wet eyelashes. For one fleeting moment, you wish she would come to you, touch your warm hands with her icy ones and look at you.
Then you look up at the sign on the wall. "Not more than 70 persons are permitted in this lounge at any one time". if there were 70 people milling around, would she even notice?
what broke her heart? what made her shake so, her lips bloodless, the pain seized in the her iris, unobscured by the tears that constantly flooded her reddened and swollen eyelids before spilling over and crashing upton those soft cheekbones?
you smile humorlessly. Ignoring the non-smoking sign, you lit up, hoping she might notice, the obnoxious fumes, the swirling grey smoke. But she did not look up. instead, she sadly whipped the tears off her face with her sleeve, wearily piacked her bag and left.
You keep on smoking, a tad disappointed. BUt well, life goes on, there are things to do, people to meet.
Just another broken soul, another broken girl today.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:44 AM
++++++
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
woops too many typing errors in that LONNNNGG previous blog..
hmms.. i guess i feel a tad better.. im just not looking forward to fridays and the weekend. tried to look more energetic today.. with the effort of wearing fuzzy shoes and happy clothing.. and i did put in extra effort to stop crying. it takes up alot of my energy.. but yeah.. i still have "wild horses" on.. aparently my eyes still are poofy and my skin crappy but.. oh wells.. the down times.
last night was funnnnnyyyy.. no one flirted with me in that circumstance before.. haha.. but yeah it lasted a bit too long (a whoollllee hour and 3/4 of the bus ride~) .. and he got too touchy.. phewies hammy was there :)
today's tutorial lasted half an hour~ tats retarded.. and we only talked about birds and apes.. OK.. *rolleyes*
mm there is no reason for me to transfer to U of T no more.. mmm sigh.
im bored.. why did i come home so early and dawne isnt even at home.. ARGh being home sucks these days.. *sighs*
my mom came into my room to talk to me about boys again last night.. how does she know these things about me?? its not like i ever tell her anytihng and somehow she senses when things happen.. hmms..well she gave me the usual dont settle for anyone who isnt worth it.. and how im stil young and i have plenty of time... and i should let people meet other people and i should meet people too before making serious decisions.. bois do come and go.. maybe one or two will stay and be even more.. but just keep my heart open and all that.. and never let myself get hurt. then she starts boasting about how many bfs she had before my daddy and that she understands coz shes been through all that crap and her mommy never told her jack. mmmm.. yes mommy, i know.
you know how u get to the age where you realize how your upbringing influenced the way u are? well im seeing more and more of it as much as im trying to ignore it.. well.. i dont really have any blame to put on my parents.. after all they spoilt me rotten for a decent 15 years at least.. i grew up tihnking my daddy is a king and im a princess.. and my apartment was the center of the universe. hahaa.. the day i found out it wasnt true.. i chose my cinderella dress and dragged my maid out to walk me around the block.. simply because there is so much more beyond the roads that never seemed to end to my little eyes. then my parents came home with a set of toy bowling pins for me. :)
i wonder where im going now. what am i gonna be? so far i have transformed from a princess to a girl swallowed and trampled upon by the indifferent crowd.. what happens next?
i need you still
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:23 PM
++++++
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
Haha wrote this while waiting at some nice dark spot in the Ross building today.. its not just about these few days,, but a bit of the thoughts(although very retarded and in bad English) that have been bothering me for a while..
Leaving someone so fused into your life is never easy. With the utterance of a few words and tears in the middle, everything changes. Suddenly the world empties itself, like a kid pouring sand out of a pail. The days seem to go on forever, and there seem to be no reason to live past the next day. Voices bounce off the walls of the room, swirling in your head while you curl up on your bed, shaking, trembling, like an addict in rehabilitation trying to wait out the intense craving and the panic of loss in the hollow of your stomach.
Everything loses its taste, its smells, its touch. The environment around you a bleak cell and strait jacket - probably the only things that keep you sane so far during withdrawal.
Suddenly your existence is not complete. You laugh and smile, but there isn't anything around your finger or neck to fiddle with. You come out of a hot shower to find reaching for the usual shirt inappropriate. You instinctively reserve Fridays, ready to great him, clean and fresh at your door at 4, after school with a grin on your face. Now you watch MSN connect, but u know you should not click on his name.
suddenly you come home late at night, you get ready for bed, contacts off, tucked in your bed, to realize you don't have anyone to call anymore. The night becomes too long and sleep doesn't come. You stare at your computer monitor, soundless, as a obnoxious number of popups spring up, you realize you just have to learn how to get around it.. there isn't anyone to complain to. You watch your sister wolf down popcorn and icecream.. you stare at the unwanted rice or pieces of meat on your plate.. and it hits you that you don't have anyone to help finish it, and you are entirely on your own. So you run from the dinner table to slam your room door shut and crouch behind it to dissolve into tears when your parents mention his name.
but familiarity and natural tendencies to care isn't love right? Love when you are young is supposed to be about explosions of passion, energy and freedom? Isn't young love supposed to be liberating and not engulfing? Love doesn't include having selfish desires to seek something that eludes him.. right? Love is about even giving someone perfect up and telling him to explore and learn about everything and then perhaps later get back to you after you do the same?
Edward reminds me I chose this. I chose for my bed to be empty, for that pair of shoes to not sit on my shoe rack. That I must not sink back and I must go through with my decision. That the decision was made for a new start, a better one infact. Funny what literature does to us eh, ed? To think to understand and encounter foreign heartache translated into words would help. That analogy of the lady with the saggy boobs made me smile. Thanks for being there.
"confusion rules this shifting age"(dawne, 2004)
She tells me this after I crawled to her on my knees after realizing how much I needed someone to talk to. She regards me indifferently and tells me I will survive. That I am only 18, with a brand new world now to explore and somehow I will find myself. Hurting is just part of it all. How did she become so logical and wise? Did she just grow up so much with my back turned?
Maybe I should pay more attention at home.
Then you meet someone else. Your heart flutters at his name, you face lights up at the sight of his. You long to reach out your broken arms and offer him your damaged heart. You long to hide him under your skin, hold him in your heart, praying for someone who will for the first time decipher the codes embedded in its walls and ease the pain and loneliness. You want to possess his every fiber, with the morbid desire to lock him in a cell and absorb every breath he takes, every word his lips would murmur.
But you hold back a little, playing for time, sipping hot chocolate, knowing that asking him to be part of your life a huge step. A commitment that would, with time, render you helpless and so powerful at the same time, both physically and emotionally. Fully aware of the excruciating consequences when things fo fall apart, you contemplate the possibilities and factors. furthermore, its no longer just about you, you take in account his wants and expectations – yet you hestitate at the thought of tying someone else down again.. and that would conflict with those books that confidently convince you to keep on moving.. and constantly find new experiences in every aspect of your life to truly "live life" and find out what you really need and want.
There is no room for mistakes, apparently. You cannot keep stacking up all the guilt of wasting people's time and effort and feelings and find more and more reasons to loathe yourself a little bit more every time you steal a glance in the mirror. Oh how you abhor that reflection! Somehow, you keep a tiny silver of each memory in your heart. They never leave you. And you are tired of crying, tired of the "weirdness" in your nose, the puffy eyes and exhausted shoulders. Tired of that strange dark shadow that follows you everywhere. You thought you had it under control, didn't you? You thought u watched it from the corner of your eye. But sometimes you get distracted and it pounces on you when you are not looking.
Yet, you are still enamored by him. What do you do now?
I have been sobbing my puny heart out for the past 2 days and it seems like its never going to end. Well, Of course when no ones looking. I don’t even know wht I feel so bad, why that ache refuses to leave no matter how hard I fight it. I tell myself agin its just another one of those phases and I have been and will be fine.. soon enough. But its so hard when I don’t have a soul to whisper to.
HY tells me I carry too many scars and I hold too many secrets. Maybe its true. I dunno. Its only been a few years since that weird shadow started trailing me around, occasionally leaping out from lurking in unexpected corners. I still always manage to keep a straight face. I say im going through a sort of self conflicting discovery and maybe everyone else goes through this too. That all this confusion and sheer hurting for no peculiar reason, my habit of interpreting everything pessimistically and my disturbing peace and willingness to disappear or die is merely part of growing up. Is it?
Is it normal to feel so worthless and insignificant? How you can vanish one fine day and no one cares? Is it normal to be so absorbed in your own battles of frustration, self hate and depressing thoughts and not notice the red velvet chairs, the love shinning off his face?
I always thought im good at blocking out emotions, that my skeptism towards happiness would prevent myself from hurting more when it ceases.
Sometimes you wonder if those books were wrong. That perhaps sometimes holding on to something, however mundane and routine at present, may turn out the best thing you have ever done in your life. You wonder if not utterly embracing your current relationships and ongoing experiences and planning everything restricts you instead of maximizing the use of your life span as a modern goddess. You wonder how much you may be missing out.
You look around a lot too, and compare yourself with the people you talk to, the people you offer a slight polite smile to, the people who walk on by, oblivious to your existence. Oh, alas! The green eyed monster! Besides the plain good ol' jealousy, you feel inadequate, rejected and socially flawed all over again. As much as it is unhealthy and unpleasant, you cant help and still do it. Isnt it funny how you let the most superficial details break the kneecaps of your self esteem?
I sit in this corner, watching a light flicker and I think of seizures and horrible it is to have one. How horrible it is to have not the slightest bit of control of your body! Then I try to find my place, while I cause this black pen to spell out the floating words that are running in my consciousness – while I feel so detached from. Im causing this pen to move, with sufficient pressure, following the rules of conformity to write on the blue lines. Yes, of course it helps the reader and all that order crap comes it. But who am I to say im in control? Am I even in control when he tells me something funny and I burst into hysterical giggling? Am I in control that I sit here, my khaki covered legs crossed under me, the ache in my third finger and the "weridness" of my nose and the usual hollowness I feel being the only things that remind me im here?
God, I talk too much.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:31 PM
++++++
Monday, October 11, 2004
"Two Beds And a Coffee Machine"
and she takes another step
slowly she opens the door
check that he is sleeping
pick up all the broken glass
and furniture on the floor
been up half the night screaming
now it's time to get away
pack up the kids in the car
another bruise to try and hide
another alibi to write
another ditch in the road
you keep moving
another stop sign
you keep moving on
and the years go by so fast
wonder how I ever made it through
and there are children to think of
baby's asleep in the back seat
wonder how they'll ever make it
through this living nightmare
but the mind is an amazing thing
full of candy dreams and new toys
and another cheap hotel
two beds and a coffee machine
but there are groceries to buy
and she knows she'll have to go home
another ditch in the road
you keep moving
another stop sign
you keep moving on
and the years go by so fast
wonder how I ever made it through
another bruise to try and hide
another alibi to write
another lonely highway in the black of night
there's hope in the darkness
I know you're gonna make it
another ditch in the road
keep moving
another stop sign
you keep moving on
and the years go by so fast
silent fortress built to last
wonder how I ever made it
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 7:26 PM
++++++
i am so alone.. sad isnt it? how i stranded myself on a deserted island all alone.. while my stupid tears splash around my arms and face and makes a sea.. yay.. i dont even have anyone to talk to anymore.. oh wells.. boohoo poor me i hope i get hit by a car tomorrow.. or like i trip and fall into a bustling highway and get smashed to bits.. or maybe i should just do a permanent submarine. sigh
i shall be cold
i will swallow the swords which will pierce the skin of the
vessel that bleeds the tears.
i shall be indifferent
the blood that stain my nails and lips will
evaporate like wisp of smoke
with the trick of my mind.
i will be strong.
that the cuts along my face and shoulders will heal
the scars well painted over.
but i cant.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:40 AM
++++++
Friday, October 08, 2004
everything you are,
i crave.
she noticed him from across the playground, a rock clasped in his intertwined fingers, staring, his gaze steady, ignoring the puddle in front of him and the voices that echoed and bounced off his impenetrateable bubble. she wanted to talk to him, but people took her by the hand and led her away, telling her stories, offering her honeyed words and all the popsicles she wanted. the little girl agreed, confused. she never knew what to do anyway.
sometimes it rained. sometimes she cried and sometimes he did. sometimes the mist grew and draped a shroud over their eyes. sometimes snow would fall and settle and form icicles in her heart. but his remained warm. he still stood at the corner, rock in hand, staring. he was always there.
yet she returns and leaves time and time again, pretending not to see the tears in his eyes and how weary his hands were. she was selfish and mean and couldn't understand why he would still stay there, knowing well how little she was worth and often asks why. she thought she wore her guilt and pain on her sleeve, so no one would talk to her. even so, months go by and he still stands there quietly, staring.
but now she stands on the other corner staring back. they watch each other silently, smiles slowly spreading across their flushed faces for the first time. For the first time, a stare said everything.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 4:11 PM
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Tuesday, September 28, 2004
The space between - Dave mathews band... i love this guy.. his songs all tell a story..
You cannot quit me so quickly
There's no hope in you for me
No corner you could squeeze me
But I got all the time for you, love
The Space Between
The tears we cry
Is the laughter keeps us coming back for more
The Space Between
The wicked lies we tell
And hope to keep safe from the pain
But will I hold you again?
These fickle, fuddled words confuse me
Like 'Will it rain today?'
Waste the hours with talking, talking
These twisted games we're playing
We're strange allies
With warring hearts
What wild-eyed beast you be
The Space Between
The wicked lies we tell
And hope to keep safe from the pain
Will I hold you again?
Will I hold...
Look at us spinning out in
The madness of a roller coaster
You know you went off like a devil
In a church in the middle of a crowded room
All we can do, my love
Is hope we don't take this ship down
The Space Between
Where you're smiling high
Is where you'll find me if I get to go
The Space Between
The bullets in our firefight
Is where I'll be hiding, waiting for you
The rain that falls
Splash in your heart
Ran like sadness down the window into...
The Space Between
Our wicked lies
Is where we hope to keep safe from pain
Take my hand
'Cause we're walking out of here
Oh, right out of here
Love is all we need here
The Space Between
What's wrong and right
Is where you'll find me hiding, waiting for you<
strong>The Space Between
Your heart and mine
Is the space we'll fill with time
The Space Between...
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:20 AM
++++++
Saturday, September 25, 2004
unfold me in the dusk
as the sun sets upon my house
the gleaming roof
the glittering stars that trickles into the sky
as it darkens
like your eyes
my sullen lips
the crisp smell of moss
strawberries on a warm afternoon
the taste of melons
slide.
-purl-
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 6:56 PM
++++++
Friday, September 10, 2004
How can I stand not seeing you for even a day? How can I stand lying here knowing you are out there away from me, praying that your thoughts are of me and no one else. Oh, how I long to selfishly dominate and monopolize you and your dreams! How can I allow such gluttony? But I can hardly contain myself. I long for your reddened lips to move against my ear, your breath hot, whispering of your yearnings, your hopes - your desires. I long for you to unwrap me in the dusk, lick up the shadows, exfoliate my skin, drink my soul. Undo me. Let the threads unravel and slither to the floor, almost silently. Mould my sullen and raw flesh, malleable in your hands. Let me be anything you want me to be.
How did I breathe
Looking at you
My back against the blackened sky -
Laughter ringing from outside glass panels,
Almost unreal?
How did I avert my eyes
In fear
Of losing myself in
Yours.
How did I just sit there
As if I did not feel something in me
Disengage -
Weaken my core.
You know I tremble and drown when I look at you, right?
That's why I look away.
the first few days of university were promising.. my evolution prof is soo funny and so is my theory prof.. i havent seen my other 3 profs.. i hope they are just as good :) awws.. no real mood to ramble about stuff like that right now....
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:05 PM
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Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Free love
whomever you love
let them be free
free to be themselves
free to go
to fufill their
personal destiny
free to experiment
free to change
free to make mistakes
free to love others
free to be real
free to be
as you are
free.
-debora chopra-
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:17 AM
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Saturday, August 21, 2004
hmms.. just came back from a family dinner for my 18th birthday at this buffet place on woodbine.. where i placed sushi and rice krispies on the same plate.. and poked dawne whenever she said something stupid.. like "you can't spell slaughther without laughther.. MUhaHHAha.." er, ok dawne.. haha.. u know the usual. somethings will never change.
well ok, its the 21st of august and im 18... officially old. an adult with responsibilities and a resonably mature perception of the world. yeah RIghT.
birthdays were never exactly my favourite... except the celebrations and the pressies lavishly showered upon me.. especially by mt parents... and of course.. my dear friends,who bought gifts thoughtfully and are greatly appreciated. i still have all of those presents tucked away in the blue ikea box sitting on my cupboard thingy, gathering dust.. but not forgotten.
after each year, i feel the obligation to grow up.. ...out of the days when i would drag out the old blue bicycle out of the broom closet and ride it around the apartment in my tiny dresses that barely covered my bottom and not care about anything in the world.. and then gleefully tromp around the neighbourhood kicking boys in the shins and making them cry.. and out of standing quietly amongst my mother's clothes in the cupboard listening to the tinkling music boxes after winding the key at the back, enveloped by the perfume she always wears (even today) with pearls around my neck and heels too huge for my miniature purl feet when she's at work...to dressing in my own "pearls", pink heels my own size.. as i listen to "in those jeans" on my own stereo before spritzing my own "paradise" perfume kept in my own closet that smells of a mix of strawberries and the differnt scents i use before tottering out to meet boys that make me cry... not by kicking me in the shins of course.
ah, the joy and hurt of love with boys. something i only discovered quite recently.. perhaps about 2 years ago.. and learnt so much on the way. i loved so hard. and hated soo ardently.. i cried, sobbed, lied, laughed, smiled.. my face lit up with a special kind of contentness and happiness that makes everything else melt away.. i frowned.. confused, i yelled, i talked.. and talked.. i got let down.. i let people down.. and i learnt to let go.. and am perhaps a closer step to learning forgiveness... i also learnt the power of an embrace.. its warmth.. its type of intoxication along with a kiss.. a word so simple but means so much, a light touch of the hand.. so much.. and yes, passion. the one thing i think i will always be on the exploring curve of.. indeed i have moved along somewhat.. but im pretty sure i have a long way to go..
for many years i have struggled with my body.. especially since the evident arrival or puberty i always dreaded and still hate now.. my appearance.. how it would fit into my environment.. into expectations. especially my own. and i have yet to come to peace with it.. till now.. many days i stare at my reflection with such a hatred i dont know if many would understand.. everyone around me seemed happy enough. i know it shouldnt matter.. but it does distract me often.. my self consciousness always a stubborn road block that refuses to budge during my interaction with people. i always believed that you can do anything as long as you are beautiful.. or if u did things beautifully -i never thought i am beautiful enough.
also, i discovered my love for literature! yeah, it may be dry to many.. but for me.. its a love/hate relationship. its magic lures me.. makes me devour pages looking for things i relate to.. for beauty.. another world except mine. yet i hate it.. the words sometimes swim before me.. draining my energy.. filling me with such boredom and depression that i am not doing sometihng exciting as i should be doing. how much am i really missing just lying in my bed facing words that meant nothing in a few seconds?
friends. the people who make my existence the least bit worth while.. people you talk to.. relate to.. to SHARE with.. to learn from.. and teach. i love my friends dearly... my appreciation of them soaring sky high after i moved to canada. over the many years.. from "yodelling" in playgrounds and dishing juicy gossip with my best gal pal during girly sleepovers.. and then being called the most repulsive and degrading names for the dumbest mistake.. i realise i would never be able to love so many people.. with things like betrayal and painful differences around.. it is impossible. so i learnt to pick the few that mattered the most to me.. those that i cradled in my heart.. and pray i would never forget them. and they me.
still i want to make more friends.. meet more people.. explore everything.. conquer the world... something that i thought i could somehow accomplish.. until i moved here. it is not the worse thing that happened to me im sure. and in fact it IS for the best. but it did have an adverse effect on me.. i have become somesort withdrawn.. you know, that quiet little chinese girl in the background? the one who never speaks? yeah thats me. but thats alright i guess. im getting used to it.
on the other hand.. i learnt things i never knew about myself.. and in someways i was "allowed" to be more "myself".. perhaps in the things i talk and think about? the people i like to talk to? i duuno exactly.. but its fine.. i have homesick spasms that bring me to tears.. but thats alright.. there are people here who are making up for that little gap... i will feel better soon :)
its funny how i feel so old right now.. and suffering from a werid moodswing.. which doesnt include blogging.. ohwells.. its also funny how i always thought i would be celebrating my 18th birthday.. (one step closer to booze, sex, drugs and rock and roll apparently).. with a huge bang.. but im just sitting here after blowing some candles on an economic store bought cake... i dont even want anything much.. the car was nice.. the dinner was nice.. and nothing has changed thatttt much.. im still childish.. ignorant and stupid.. im still so shy around people i love.. im still so many things.. and wear powerpuff girl socks.. but all im asking for right now is someone to hold me.
happy birthday to me, i guess.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:07 PM
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Wednesday, August 18, 2004
i love it when people use the word "unwrap you" or anything like that in poems or whatever artsy fartsy stuff.. makes me tingle.. hahaa.. oh wellIes.. a lot of things make me tingle.. hahaa.. like....brainfreeze :p
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:30 AM
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Tuesday, August 17, 2004
So Just Kiss Me- poem by jewel
So just just kiss me and let my hair
messy itself in your fingers
tell me nothing needs to be done-
no clocks need winding
there is no bell without a voice
needing to borrow my own
instead, let me steady myself
in the arms
of a man who won;t ask me to be
what he needs, but let me exist
as i am
a blonde flame
a burricane
wrapped up
in a tiny body
that will come to his arms
like the safest harbour
for mending
i *heart* this poem SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH!!!!!!!!! sOOOO pretty words!! *cuddles* hehe.. if anyone writes something like that for me i will shriek and go crazy.. haha.. i might buy this jewel book. i can relate to her poems.. robert frost and walt wiltman is kinda goood.. but isnt modern enough to make me react immediately.. and sometimes it just makes me sleep.. hahaa.. had a niceeeeeeee day today.. walk to the library and walking around for like 6 hours!! refreshing.. i needed that. and the weather is pretty too.. and even better that its dark and rainy.. for me to read pretty poetry.. *contented sigh* i love jewel. :) maybe i get to publish a book like that too.. haha.. IF i do learn to write pretty poetry.. dododoo...
Bleary eyed.. SOO romantic..
Bleary eyed
and sleepy still
i unwrapped you
of the morning
like careful fruit
with forbidden flesh
made sweeter by the scorning
My hands still shaky
from kisses sweet
and the dark hours
of night's embrace
i checked to see
if fastened vines
my heart had left
in silv'ry trace
While you slept
i looked inside your chest
to see what there
was growing
i saw my heart
with quiet eyes
to your side it self
was gently sewing
i saw my heart
with quiet eyes
to your side it self
was gently sewing
The Bony Ribs of Adam.. i like this alot too.. so sad
I left the bony ribs of Adam
for the fruit
of my own personal desire
Its scent still heavy
upon my flesh
my absence still
thorn
to his side
But now how my belly
holllows and aches
craving seed
carving kisses
ut outside the road hisses
and i find myself
packing girlishness
in an old leather bag
love stepping lightly
away from the door
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:36 PM
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Friday, August 13, 2004
freeze these eyes
burn these tears.
turn these hands into stone, this body into clay.
malleable. but cold -
unfeeling.
yet
suspend this heart in a teardrop -
remove these emotions.
confusion, longing, jealousy, hurt, desire.
bleed me of this sheer excess - absintine blood -
break these wings. lock this cage. fasten those shackles -
for i miss you.
-purl-
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:16 PM
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"Flannery took that as her yes. It was her thumb she moved across Anne’s mouth then. Slowly. Following the curve of her lips up to that sweet peak, and back down the gentle slope of the other side. Flannery know that she knew this mouth already, had lived with its shape and its sounds in her imagination, but she had not felt it. Her blunt thumb made this intimate acquaintance.
“You have the most beautiful mouth,” Flannery said to Anne.
And then did what she had been wanting to do her entire life.
She kissed her. " - pages of you , i forgot the writer
this book is about lesbian lovers.. but wow.. its one of the first books that introduced me to the quiet relationship between words and the sensuality of the body... hmms i should read the book again.this is just one of the few passages i like....
hmmms what a lack of life.. here i am blogging every couple of hours coz i got nothing else to do.. sighs... oh wells.. i have a strong feeling the books i borrowed today suck.. they SEEMED promising...
i have a birthday resolution. read REAL poetry and learn to understand it.. haha.. so much "fun" eh.. meh u all.. im interested.. ahha..
ok lets see what i should do tomorrow....
1. sleeep as long as i can and still probably wake up at 10:15 lastest.. darns
2. read??
3. get my defective eyes checked
4. go to ikea
5. buy jeans and that shirt.. woaH.. such a different style from purl style.. but its cool..
6. start hunt for dolly outerjacket.. i plan to dress up dollish for the winter.. JUSt becaUSe~
7. be bored
mehhHHH i got nothing to do!!! not fair! and my parents are liars!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! so much for saying they are gonna buy a car for me.. suCH LIES! i hate it when they lie and do it sO often.. holy crap.. meh.. wheres my mATrIx?? *sObs* now my mom is bringing me around places and saying shes gonna get this hiundai suv type car and tell me i dont get to drive it and shes gonna choose any colour she wants anyway.. URGH.. I could have easily thrown a punch if it wasnt my mom.. she always does that.. make me look at stuff and tell me to swallow the fact that i have nothing on the decision ANyWaY. just liek this crappy house she bought.. wow i can still remember the rage when she first told me she bought this piece of crap.. but whatever. i tell myself im born to be rich.. even though i wasnt born rich :D not funny but ok
hMmmssss im a spanish lover again.. as in i like spanish.. haha.. nothing else.. just the language.. and started to download spanish songs again.. even though they are pop songs.. haha... im sure HY remembers me singing "This i promise you" in spanish!! hahaa... "Si siente un frio tu corazon..." gonna download all the spanish versions of those ballads.. haha.. im such a loser.. dodooooo.. i love spanish!!
ok well i guess im not going to universty. im society's reject products. soon im gonna get kicked out of highschool for being 45 and too old to do grade 12 all over again. and my parents are gonna abandon me by chasing me out of the house with their walking sticks because im getting too old to live with them. and no one is gonna wnat to marry a ugly and stupid chinese girl.
im soO jealous jealous jealous dododo.. meh
just got back from walmart with my parents.. im actually taller than my mom!!! hmms or maybe im just dreaming? or did someone sprinkle some magic on me and made me grow the last year? hahah.. meh. im condemmed to be short and stubby for life. i saw ashwin was i was conscientiously picking out the perfect saline solution for my depleting supply of contact lenses. we greeted each other with alarmed expressions and a loud and long "HeyYyyYyy" before we immediately dropped out gaze to walk back to our parents.. my bottle of 360ml solution in my hand. and then i had to stand there and daydream and pretend to be most interested with hairdryers (even though i need one.. but i was tired) as my mom picked one out. CONAIR was the winner. box and solution in hand.. i trailed after my mom like a slave as she wandered around and then dumped stuff into my arms. and i bought fruit flavoured lip balm.. for some reason i lost ALL of my stupid lipbalms.. my bodyshop ones and even those neutrogena ones.. who cares about my lips.. im just gonnna buy cnady smelling ones that arent expensive. ok whYY am i talking aout the trip to walmart????
whole family is downstairs watching "alien" on tv this very moment as i sit here contently rambling about nothing really with christmas carols playing on my stereo. how lovely.
ah hah! my room is the cleanest it has been in a couple of weeks. at least the carpet is not layered by its usual thick protective covering comprising clean clothes, dirty clothes, ripped clothes( thanks to my "creative side"), crumpled clothes, paper bags, socks, paper.. and stuff. yes, stuff. other than a couple of books and pens on my bed.. and the usual mat and exercise ball.. and yea.. my fan and a bag and.. a sweater.... my things are in its "right" places. hmms.
am i talking too much?? i think i am. but what the heck. its my blog innit?
i have a random urge to start swearing and complaining -typical - about my life again. WHY IS IT THAT IM BORED AND WOOZY HALF THE TIME? sigH.. perhaps i REALLY should get a job.. at least i would be too grumpy and pissed off and tired to complain and blog too much. gawd im so friggin tired of everything.. why dont god make an exception for me and let me hibernate until i want to face the world again?
hmms.. why do i dislike chinese people so much? well i dont dislike them.. but im kinda biased against MY own people. and yet i get mad when people are not proud of their own heritage.. what a contradiction. its okay i think im improving.
hmms i dont look 17 really??? ohohs.. hahaa.. meh it all.. H told me i look grade 10!! 14 years old-ish!! wah.. in teenage years.. 3 years is a hell lot of difference.. so when im 40.. i can lie im 30.. hahaa.. and trick little 28 year old boys.. hahaa.. jokes
anyone interested in my life's dream?? guess not. but whatever..
ok.. i want to be a pretigious journalist - a young, sophisticated and intelligent woman (HAHA)who during her years in university wasted no time and established connections with numerous career type persons, and who afterwards cleverly used these connections to invest in thriving businesses and.. stuff. haha. slowly, my finances would grow rapidly, adding the word "wealthy" in the above discription. and as it grows i would create a chain of classy cafes... in which everything is bought from MY line of furniture and magazines and books. and of course, clothes for my LAWyers. haaha.. its ok.. u wont laugh. an inside joke. and everyda i would be wearig my gucci business power suits and walk around my posh office in jimmychoo shoes waiting for my team of designers(they are gonna be sharply dressed too) to impress me. HAHA.. and mAYbe, occasioally i would borrow the lawyers next door ;) hahaa.. ok another insdie joke. but of course.. i get to design too.. except they hve to do what i say.. and im allowed to reject whatever they do say. lol.. haha.. and of course, dawne, my dearest little sister.. would be my "personal assistant" who does anything. hahaa.. and.. with all my stuff.. 7% of all the profit will go to africa.. and countries like haiti of course.. how can i forget. (another stupid inside joke with fasial in summa school) and im gonna save the world. haha. RIGHT.
ok fine. i should stop.. im really showing everyone the lack of life i have. tatas now.. i might even come back later tonight when compainionship eludes me and im left alllllllllll on my lonesome. again.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 9:09 PM
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Tuesday, August 10, 2004
you wait for me.. i wait for you.. we are all waiting for something. but why does it feel like punishment, a constant longing, an ache?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:48 PM
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Thursday, August 05, 2004
take this ragged heart and bury it for compost. i shall be cold and hard. impregnable. my tears are but pearls. opaque.
your burning fingertips on my icy cheeks will not melt me.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 10:42 AM
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Monday, August 02, 2004
for some reason i am so angry. i want to tear my room apart. rip paper into dust. scratch the paint off the walls.
you dont understand my rage. you dont understand how hard it is for me to swallow my anger, my urges to peel off my own skin, to scream. you will never understand how physical these emotions become, how i can throw you vehement glares, dripping with venom and distrust as you reach for my cold shoulder. you dont believe me when i speak of violence or self multiltion, trusting logic and common sense had just eluded me for one fleeting second and i was merely rambling, speaking of things too far fetched and simply ridiculous to be true. u think that tiny burning cold jewel of broiling infuriation, irritation, icy harshness is non existent. i hate you i hate you i hate you.
i hate myself.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 1:41 PM
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differences - ginuwine
My whole life has changed
Since you came in, I knew back then
You were that special one
I'm so in love, so deep in love
You make my love complete
You are so sweet, no one competes
Glad you came into my life
You blind me with your love, with you I have no sight
Girl, you open me, I'm wide open
And I'm doing things I never do
But I feel so good, I feel so good
Why it takes so long for me finding you
This is my story and I'm telling you
It's not fiction, it's surely a fact
Without you right here having my back
I really don't know just where I'd be at
My whole life has changed (My whole life has changed)
Since you came in, I knew back then (Ooh...oh...)
You were that special one (You were that)
I'm so in love, so deep in love
You make my love complete (You make, make my love
complete)
You are so sweet (Oh, oh), no one competes
Glad you came into my life (Ooh...)
You blind me with your love, with you I have no sight
I analyzed myself, I was buck wild
Never thought about settling down
But all the time I knew I was ready
But not with all my friends around
But girl, I put you first now (I put you first now)
You made me, helped mold me (Helped mold me, baby)
Turned me into a man, I'm so responsible
And I owe it all to you
My whole life has changed (My whole life has changed)
Since you came in, I knew back then (Oh, oh)
You were that special one (You were that special one)
I'm so in love, so deep in love (Oh, oh, oh....)
You make my love complete (You make my love complete)
You are so sweet, no one competes
Glad you came into my life (So glad you came in)
You blind me with your love (Blind me, baby), with you
I have no sight
{God has blessed me} God has blessed me, baby
Girl, He was good to me when He sent you
{I'm so happy, baby}
I'm so happy, I'm so happy, baby, oh, yes, baby
{Share my world} Come and share my world, baby,
oh...whoa...yeah. yeah
{I'm so in love} I'm so in love
I'm addicted to your love, baby, yeah...
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 4:02 AM
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Friday, July 30, 2004
"Half of you have gone as far as life as you’re ever going to. Look around you. Its all downhill from here. The rest of us will go a bit further, a steady job, a trip to Hawaii, or a move to Phoenix, Arizona, but out of fifteen hundred how many will do anything truly worthwhile, write a play, paint a painting that will hang in a gallery, find a cure for herpes? Two of us, maybe three? And how many will find true love? About the same. And enlightenment? Maybe one. The rest of us will make compromises, find excuses, someone or something to blame, and hold that over our hearts like pendant on a chain."
one of them old passsages i still like...
hmms.. went to milikin 4 times today.. to get my report card because of my panicky parents.. even though i can get the stuff from an office in richmond hill.. apparently its miles and miles away.. and i get blammed for single handedly delaying the report card delivery from aurora? dammits.. so frigging annoying.. and then they started giving me a lecture about how lousy and stupid i am.. wth really.. sorry im not turing out the perfect daughter with the amazing grades, attitude and looks("whats wrong with your face???!!" - really if i hear that one more time im gonna say something bad). bad enough i tihnk i look like a yellow baby elephant with beady eyes and brown straw as hair. URGHHHHHHHHH...
well went downtown with them today.. meh.. had no fun at all.. walked for soo long in the muggy weather.. well i really dont mind the walking..its the weather.. wow.. i watned to trash around and swear and all of them.. but of course.. i have to maintain my quite demeanor and fake smile. meh it all.. this werid guy in the subway was trying to play eye games with me while his practically un-clad girlfriend(i presume)is pawing all over him and almost trying to climb onto him.. i can barely look at her desperate attempts to get his attention. i avoided his gaze as much as i can, pretending to concentrate very hard on my cell phone.. but every time i look up he is staring.. how retarded.. firstly.. he is staring at the wrong and unworthy thing.. secondly.. i dont like his arrogant and complacent attitude.. oh whatever. i remember coz it pissed someone off
well well.. i probably had alot better other things to talk about.. but now i have lost all the mood for aything calm and nice.. random rage coming back up.. tatas
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:25 PM
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Thursday, July 29, 2004
"Who am i? I am who I say I am and tomorrow someone else entirely. You are too nostalgic, you want memory to secure you, console you. The past is a bore. What matters is only oneself and what one creates from what one has learned. Imagination uses what it needs and discards the rest. Don’t hoard the past. Don’t cherish anything. Burn it. The artist is the phoenix who burns to emerge."
will i ever learn to be so cold?
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 8:30 PM
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"you mustfind a boy your age, someone mild and beautiful to be your lover. someone who would tremble for touch, offer you a marguerite by its long stem with his eyes lowered, someone whose fingers are a poem."
"i was the one who was trembling, it was me and my marguerite" - white oleander, Janet fitch
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 12:35 AM
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Tuesday, July 27, 2004
"For those who studied in Singaporean primary schools .. dont read it if ur not from singapore i geuss.. u would be bored out of your mind.. but this made me want to laugh and cry at the same time
1. You grew up watching He-man, Transformers, Silver hawk and >>>>Mickey Mouse. Not to forget, Ninja turtles and Smurfs too.
2. You grew up brushing your teeth with a mug in Primary school during recess time. You will squat by a drain with all your >>>>classmates beside you, and brush your teeth with a coloured mug. The teachers said you must brush each side10 times too.
3. You know what's Bin(1) Fen(1) Ba (1) San(1) is all about.
4. You know what SBC stands for.
5. You were there when the first chinese serial, the Awakening was shown on TV.
6.Internet? What the hell is that? So you thought a decade or more ago.
7. You find your friends with pagers and handphone cool in Secondary school.
8. SBS buses used to be non-airconditioned. The bus seats are made of wood and the cushion is red. The big red bell gives a loud BEEEP! when pressed.There are colourful tickets for TIBS buses. The conductor will check for tickets by using a machine which punches a hole on the ticket.
9. Your favourite actor and actress is Huang Wenyong and Xiangyun. Next is Lee Nanxing and Zoe Tay and the Aiyoyo woman.
10. You've probably read Young Generation magazine. You know who's Vinny the little vampire and Acai the constable.
11. You were there when they first introduced MRT here. You went for the first ride with your parents and you would kneel on the >>>>seat to see the scenery.
12. Movie tickets used to cost only $3.50.
13. Gals are fascinated by Strawberry Short Cake and Barbie Dolls.
14. You learn to laugh like The Count in Sesame Street.
15. You longed to buy tibits called Kaka(20 cents per pack) and Ding Dang(50 cents per box), that had a toy in it and it changes every week not forgetting the 15 cents animal crackers and the >>>>ring pop, where the lollipop is the diamond on the ring.
16. You watched TV2(also known as Channel 10) cartoons because Channel 5 never had enough cartoons for you.
17. All that you know about Cantonese is from the Hong Kong serials you watched on TV2.
18.Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, The Three Investigators, Famous Five and Secret Seven are probably the thickest story books you ever thought you have read. Even SweetValley High and Malory Towers.
19.Civics and Moral Education was "Hao3 Gong1 Min2".
20. KFC used to be a high class restaurant that serve food in plates and let you use metal forks and knives
21. The most vulgar thing you said was asshole and idiot and THE MOST EXTREME WAS 'super white'...you just couldn't bring yourself to say the hokkien relative
22. Catching was the IN thing and twist the magic word.
23. Your English workbooks was made of some damn poor quality paper that was smooth and yellow.
24. CDIS was your best friend.
25. The only computer lessons in school involved funny pixellised characters in 16 colours walking about trying to teach you maths.
26. Waterbottles were slinged around your neck and a must everywhere you go.
27. Boys loved to play soccer with small tennis balls in the basketball court or play something that uses tennis ball to hit >>>>other players known as "HUM TAM BOLA" during recess /after school
28. Hopskotch, five stones,chateh and zero point were all the >>>>rage with the girls and boys too...
29. Science was fun with the balsam and the angsana being the >>>>most important plants of our lives.
30. Who can forget Ahmad, Bala, Sumei and John, eternalized in >>>>our minds from the textbooks. Even Mr Wally.
31. You did stupid exercises like seal crawl and frog jumps.
32. Every children's day and national day you either get pins or pens with 'Happy Children's Day 1993' or dumb files with Happy National Day 1994'.
33. In Primary six you had to play buddy for the younger kids like big sister and brother. 34. Chinese teachers were always old, boring and damn fierce looking.
35. Your form teacher taught you maths, science and english.
36. The worksheets were made of brown rough paper of poor quality.
37. You went to school in slippers and a raincoat when it rained, and you find a dry spot in the school to sit down, dry your feet, and wear your dry and warm socks and shoes.
38. Famous Chinese singers were only Jacky Cheung, Andy Lau, Aaron Kwok and Leon Lai
39. School dismissal time was normally around 1 pm.
40. There would be spelling tests and mental sums to do almost everyday.
41. Your friends considered you lucky and rich if your parents gave you $3 or more for pocket money everyday.
42. During class gatherings, parents always tag along in case someone gets lost at Orchard Road.
43. You freak out when the teacher tells you to line up according to height and hold hands with the corresponding boy or girl.
44. Handkerchiefs were a must for both genders
45. Collecting notebooks and all kinds of stationery was a popular thing.
46. Autograph books were loaded with "Best Wishes", "Forget Me Not", and small poems like "Bird fly high, hard to catch. Friend >>>>like you, hard to forget".
47. Class monitors and prefects loved to say "You talk somemore, I write your name ah!"
48. There were at least 40 people in one class.
49. Large, colourful schoolbags were carried.
50. You brought every single book to school, even though there was one thing called the timetable.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 3:51 PM
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im so sick and tired of this- this life - myself
have u ever felt the darkness close in on your at night and cry yourself to sleep, thikning u never wake up again.. but when u do u are suprised and unwilling to believe you are awake at the same time? i wanted to stay in bed.. but suddenly the quilt is too heavy and everything was suffocating me. so i got up. but i realise there isnt anything to wake up for. i turn to fairy tales and "happy" things.
but suddenly the tin man grows metallic fangs and holds a knife above me and the lion approaches me with a bleeding heart ripped from the tear in its chest, dark red, the fur around it matted and soaked with blood. the arabic princess smiles at me knowingly beckoning me to her with talons i can imaging puncturing my flesh. i cant breathe.
i sit here my eyes averted to the computor screen, my legs curled up tightly against my chest.. i betray nothing with my nonchalance and usual irritability when im at home. but every few seconds i look back. something is gonna get me.
im so weary of everything. i dont want to see him. im tired. i want to leave my house. but i have no where to go. i want to find something to occupy me and keep my spirits up.. but i find nothing. and i dread the fall from the rise of my mood. i sit amidst the mess i made of my room. i barely have the energy or motivation to pick anything up. whats the point really. no i didnt vaccum the floor. my dad did while i hid in the bathroom with my head soaked in water and my headpounding. get me out of here.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 3:01 PM
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Monday, July 26, 2004
More Than Friends
by Yasmeen
let me know, you gotta let me know
tell you what i think about you
tell me what you think about me
boy i cant even lie think about it constantly
baby you been on my mind, tell me I really want to see
how you feel about me so you gotta let me know
we've been kickin' it for awhile, i really like your style
your personality, its the cutest thing i've ever seen
maybe i could be down for you, if you really down for me
aint no doubt about it, i want you on my team
baby tell me why do you feel like
there's a place where you'd rather be
and it so obvious that you and i
go together so i was just thinking
[CHORUS]
i was just thinking that, maybe we should be a little more than friends
i like the way we kick it and i don't want this night to ever end
and i only wanna be with you
i was just thinking that
maybe we should be a little more than friends
i like the way we kick it and i dont want this night to ever end
and i only wanna be with you
i was just thinking that
tell you what's in my heart
tell me what's on your mind
boy i know you're feeling me can see it in your eyes
i've been digging you for a while
and i really wanna try
to make this forever tonight
hope that you can truly see what is that you mean to me
we dun gotta rush so take it slow
i just want you to know
baby tell me why do you feel like
there's a place where you'd rather be
and it so obvious that you and i
go together so i was just thinking
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 3:50 PM
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Thursday, July 22, 2004
She stares unblinkingly into the air, a pencil in the hand, poised over a white sheet of paper, ready to write. Yet she seems distant, displaced from her body, the iris of her eyes diminished, fixed on something invisible to another’s eye. Her expression expectant, her lips slightly apart, she day dreams of sunshine crashing through the blinds, spilt paint, ink stained fingers, gleaming crystals, those eyes, yellow rays bouncing off cool green sparkly waters, iridescent colors of scattered beads, soft, white sand, orange daises, long shadows cast by tall street lamps, that smile, dangling glittering earrings, his breath against her ear, the obnoxious smell of nail polish, chlorine in her hair, birds soaring above, songs on the radio.
Caught in this moment, she is impermeable, opaque; yet so transparent and vulnerable like a little child.
Oblivious.
Does she know who she is? Does she know where she is, where she is going? Does she know love, or bitterness? Does she know?
Her eyelids flutter.
She puts the pen down gently and slowly, a frown creasing her adolescent forehead, as if confused, pauses – and sighs.
Her gaze returns to the dusty markings on the blackboard.
Class has begun.
Talking about summer school brings about a stream of complaints and eye rolling. But at this instant, as I sit here by myself, right smack in the middle of the class room and the different cliques I float to and fro occasionally, I realize it isn’t that bad after all. I may be detached, quiet and dreamy- the observer, who holds her head down to smile or frown during lessons – but being locked by willingly for 7 hours every weekday with 19 other people, I have formed an invisible and silent bond with them, even if they are not aware. For the past few weeks, I overheard hilarious conversations about licking sweaty soccer players, Brad Pitt and other “sexy” celebrities, listened to the smooth and articulate voices of Jessica and Charity, and the other perky girls who would shriek excitedly over an essay, and the boisterous laughter and cruel jokes from the guys who dominate the last row of tables and chairs. It is true that with time, they would just be a foggy memory and faceless people with names I may not even be able to remember, and that I hardly learnt anything in this course, except practice my quick writing and text messaging skills, but at this moment, I have to say I have been complaining about nothing. Instead, I should be grateful I am given simple tasks to complete and a place to keep me occupied each morning, even though I think I have mastered the art of wasting time sitting at a desk with a mp3 player that is running out of battery, some paper and a blunt pencil. Summer school wasn’t horrible, nor was it as maddeningly annoying as I made it. It was merely somewhere I went each morning to waste time, get slightly more knowledgeable about world events and meet some new people. It also kind of gave me an insight of how her life is right now without trying too hard. Its all good really. (Despite the crazy amount of work I have to do tonight and during the weekend.. haha)
**everyday im sinking further.**
my moods these days are generally relaxed and slightly tired with a couple of down moments.. but im having fun..especially last night.. i havent had a relaxed talk in the comforting night outdoors for the longest time.. and helia's family misses her!!
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 4:21 PM
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Sunday, July 18, 2004
Loving You
galye goh
reclining curled on a playground benchlike a cat having made love to a kingtar snakes out a death-kiss, to cuttendrils of dreams into our common reality;
i loved you then.
the next morning left me helpless.couldn't get the smell of it all, out ofmy hair. away from my flesh.it was that insidious; like youslaking my senses in a revolutionary sin;
i loved you then.
children scream outside, an infant weeps.old photographs are re-taken in my mind.a big girl crowds her swing outside my window,as if to kick the trees down. some things you outgrow,some things you merely leave behind.i light a cigarette and watch the end burn.i do not inhale. i do not dare breathe,wanting as much of it to last for as long as i am alone. a tiny light rages in the embers of the past;
i love you now.
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 11:33 PM
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Sunday, July 11, 2004
mmm.. mmms.. i deleted my blog. how stupid am i? URGHHHHHHHHHH im gonna tear my house down.. holy crap i liked reading back.. URGH
waste / flesh
incinerate me.
a pheonix* - burns to be reborn
discards of society / dust
caught between shining tiles -
i - useless unlike
wild horses / riding
on the convertor belt -
defective - flawed.
do / you / see
midas's broken
hands/ ?
existence not valid.
desolate -
tell me/ do you - kiss
the rain*?
do you - miss/ i
?
love you. rotting petals-
rose/ musk. torn
hurt - the iron/ salt - pain
i fall - glowing
cigarette buds.
mornings. coffee*/ two muffins - mundane
away i fly- take a piece/ of me .?
devoid/ empty vessel.
who / am / i ?
think/ thoughts / dreams*
/ of. you.
notice me.
blazing sun/ scorch my skin -
peel / melt / exfoliate -
burn - me.
-p u r l-
anyyways my new poem.. i like..
I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt. || 1:38 AM
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