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?

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?

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 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.

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?

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.

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.

a poem for my christmas

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?

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.

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.

"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."

yes, you were right. my feelings for him never waned over those months.. but

everything was real.

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.

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... .... ....

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.

pretty poetry...

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 :)

is is jsut me or is everyone gorgeous except me :( *sobs* sighs.. meh lemme go watch tv and feel worse.. tata

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....

life sucks

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 -

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*

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

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....

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.

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

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!

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?

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.

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.

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.

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

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!! :'(

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.

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 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.

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.

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

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.

"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 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.

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.

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...

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-

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....

free

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-

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 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

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

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-

"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.

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?

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.

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.

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...

"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

"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?

"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