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.

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 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.

"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

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*

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.

"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.

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.

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 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~

oh i heart you so