yes, changed my blog... into ANOTER NARCISSISIC ONE! cut me some slack. i love attention. ahhahaaa sure.

lol its always hilarious when my mom wants to buy somethng and my dad grumbles in that funny way of his. his new gardening hobby is funnier!

mm havent been writing lately.. so i decided to sit in my backyard(a.k.a. tan) and write about not writing hoping to get something out. but uh uh. my pen ran out of ink after the 3rd sentence. hahaha.

excerpt from journal (when it was still snowing 05):
"i think im begining to understand and appreciate shared beliefs. its no longer about just keeping things simple, a way out of committment. before, having my beliefs constantly challenged and attacked,i gradually allowed them to suffer some damage and get pushed back, almost forgotten - i became like them.

When hammad(no, we're not breaking up LOL) suddenly entered my consciousness, bring finally a rush of fresh air, i eneded up getting hurt by guns similar to the ones i used. suddenly, i didnt have someone to fight against, someone's words to oppose or ignore. for a while, in the midst of confusion, i understood their pain.

true, i do get tired of hearing "we'll see how things go.." of course moments arise when i realise i want assurance, a promise, something steady, loyal i can clutch in my fingers...
its funny how while thinking of this, my university education manages to insert its little bit in here: the western society has lost many of its traditional mindsets/values, lifestyles. lovers wander amongst one another, dreamless, hopefull, constantly wanting that one person to fill that lonely gap in the crook of their arms late at night. it is almost strange and immoral to blatantly state that we are recycling one another - after being tossed out, exchanged for another recycled individual. funny how we can never love two people the same way either. different stories, complicated, intercepting emotions, those silvers of stolen, private memories float about above us, around us, in us, trascending us.

also, ideals plague us all, the perfect configuration of a person, expectations, rules, scars - all these dreams so different, yet so alike, converging only to have us behave like travellers, everyone of us, reaching for that hand that would hold ours forever.

but with each day, the likelihood of that decreases. even the words of my love smoulders my faint, pulsing hope i almost shamefully hide. i used to get hurt when he speaks of a future evidently dis-cluding me. but i dont want him to lie either. i would have told him to pretend he wouldnt let this go, the way i can easily gratefully and thankfully confess the same. but i dont want him to lie. my vulnerability shimmers as it sits in his oblivious hands.

maybe its our age, the uncertainty and opportunities that line themselves up so endlessly before us. who knows when things may change. i stare enviously at friends who confidently call their loves their "other halves", "laogong", etc. i always thought it was somewhat vile and pretentious, overtly sappy. but thats not my point. is that false consolation? an illusion of absolute assurance? will i be fooled? will i beleive its real and watch it materialize? the only times i briefly let someone call me that never really gave me all that.

then again, there is that "Dont go for what you need, go for what you want" mentality. is that pure irresponsibility, irrationality, or following the heart and private instincts? what responsibility anyway what instincts?

strangers milling around a large square, a rose in hand, damp with tears and blood, doused in perfume, beer and cocaine. what are we to do? what am i to thnk and feel? how do i express this? who will want ot listen?

"baby you're everything i want and need right now" - why right now? why cant people grow together? since when did life and love become periodized, sorted into coherent phases, with labels slapped onto the surface of the glass bottle? does this make it better? simpler?

i cannot claim to be ready for lifelong love.. nor can i say i am not. who is to tell? how would i know? wanting stability and loyalty doesnt mean the person you want it from is willing/ready to give it to you. i am not the type to nudge or push somone into feeling or wanting the same thing i do either. who am i to do so - with only my own personal/private experiences and the other person his own? must i ask for assurance?

i don't want to. neither doi want to settle with knowing i will never find it. and i never want to pretend that i am sure to find it either. as much as i long to take so many things for granted, i dont want ot at the same time. it gives me constant stress, and everyday i almost feel that tangible struggle to maintain everything i am supposed to be, but how else will i learn to value someone?
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i always entertained that fairytale that one day i will be loved for everythig i am, hat one day someone will fall to my feet and worship me th way i would fall to his. and now that i found someone getting closer to that, my fear of losing even just one speck huants me.

i always thought being emotional is a sign of weakness, tears only for the confines of your own impenetratable space.. and admitting i am weak doesnt give me closure the way they say being honest to oneself should. rather, it frustrates me that i am nothing like what i want to be. not a perfect person, obviously, but a real, beautifully flawed and raw individual without the hopeless constant hemoraghing core and loneliness that now permanenetly resides in my chest, my lungs, my feet. on good days, with my baby's help i am able to ignore it.
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..........

haha, stupid weak and hopeless pearle. who would have thought a person can be this insecure.... even after censorship of some paragraphs. this made me think though.. about then.. and now. ofcourse. now its diffferent. this was written way back.

and yarr... i actualy write like that in my own journal. lols. what a loser

been 4 months and my hairs still soo curly!! even though it prolly grew an inch or more after i permed it! wow. hahaa.. maybe i have curly/wavy hair naturally and the perm jsut gave it a real form... instead of me tryig to comb it neat every day when it was wavy and puffy last time. yay!! i like curly hair! not ron type obviously. but nice curls! heheee *mwah* for bummmm

been so lazy. i need to get fit!! bleargh! hahaa... a hard body is so nice to have and i hate my legs!! argh!! *snores and stuffs cake into mouth* hahaaa... dododooo.. feel like going to the library. that thick book is impossible to read. simply because its farrrrr too thick and it weighs more than a kilogram im suree... holding it will give my biceps definition.. but only 1004 pages. hmm. these people should make such books paperbacks with lighter pages. then i will read.. lols.

ok ima goo! then come home find the ts-elliot poems and off to school i go~

why does my heart feel so sad - moby

...............

Strangely this morning my thoughts drifted to Daryl, prompted by the memory of us at age 14, running across hougang swimming complex wooping, not one bit body conscious, soaking up rays and the chlorinated water. Our brother-sisterly relationship was more or less like mine with Patrick. Back in highschool he called me babe(stil does), people who didn't know us lumped us together, pictures we took together at prom were ridiculous but looked more fitting than those I took with my date. we (still)share the cynical yet hopeful and hopelessly romantic view of life and love, and the enjoyment of midnight club hopping, if not for the wandering amongst unfamiliar bodies with the flashing neon lights and thumping music.. only I hand out my free drinks coupons while he chugs beer with the other guys. we proclaimed each other similarly charismatic and special while graduating from holy innocents, then hardly ever saw each other again, except for that one day he was the first to slip that silvery necklace around my neck, give me a hug and tell me to take good care minutes before I stepped onto the plane which, with the tears pouring from my eyes, would change my life forever.

I don't know why I thought of him. he didnt play a big role in my life, not even the slightest crush happened. We were strictly platonic.. and for the past 3 years, the only times we met were completely accidental. I don’t even miss him that much, I am not even sure what friend status to give him.. yet that one memory persists.. 2 boys(ron was there too) and 1 girl, hovering near the peak of full blown adolescence, so simple, so confused, our awkward voices rising clear and strong toward the blazing Singaporean sun.

Then there was bengimin lam ke wei. My first friend and neighbor in charlton. The strange skinny darkskinned boy who taught me how to swing from one monkey bar to another with no effort.. and taught me how to swear. and who shared scraped knees and obnoxious bruises from recklessly jumping on miniature skateboards, whacking each other with wooden sticks when we play fight and while performing ridiculous stunts on his painful looking porch, where I hung out for most of 1996. and the funniest thing was, we had to tell people we were cousins to ward off fishy suspicions.

Then we drifted apart toward the end of primary school, as I leaned toward my books and slightly more passive and subdued friends like Patrick, cedric, kenny and thh. We still met up for soccer once in a while, still yelled at each other from our own houses, held up that slowly fading friendship until secondary 3, where I finally joined the pompous studious snobs "up there" while he drifted to the normal-technical stream.. had to be sent to behavioral school.. got fixed up and became some wushu bigshot and despite STILL being in the same secondary school, our lives twisted and grew in different directions, and then our friendship finally broke down when he moved away. No more looking out the window half expecting him to wave. I finally got him on my buddys list on msn a year ago.. but that was also the last time we spoke in so many years.. albeit electronically. I wonder how he is doing.

And his best friend, Justin. The one who would wear socks abd sprinkle talcum powder on smooth flooring to slide around to the song Mr. Bombastic, made popular by that levis commercial on tv. the three of us we so close during primary school. And I would partake in every boyish activity they had. Climbing trees, water guns. The most amusing thing about Justin is that.. two years after we lost touch, he came to be the character in my idiotic smoker boyfriend story I would tell to others for a laugh. Despite all the rehabilitation, conversion to Christianity and juvenile arrests, he didn't change. There was one redeeming thing though, he would call at 3am in the morning while he was out fishing, and sing to me while I nodded off. How cute. Im curious if ben still has those infamous sleepovers at justin's mansion. I would suspect so. They were wonderful friends. I was the reject, the goody two-shoes who did her homework and picked up a different lifestyle, somewhat more complex than the one I had at 12.. all I can do now is smile.. for them.

Karen. How can I ever forget Karen.. the eccentric little girl who saw herself as more mature than everyone else around us.. but she was my best best buddy in Charlton. I do not really know what to speak of her, except for my constant incredulity of her reluctance to come run around in the park with us or simply go out.. and insistence of staying in her dark pinkish home all day. But I remember admiring her closeness to her two sisters, tracing pictures cut out from magazines along their shared dresser sitting in an apartment in bedok. She was one to talk behind a person’s back. Prone to gossip and silent anger and jealousy. I heard from someone else she vowed to cut off ties with everyone in Charlton once the PSLE results were in.. which she successfully did. I was not too tramuatised. A lot of politics arose at that time amongst us all at that time.. and I still had thh and other buddies.I wonder how she is doing also.

My oldest friend ever possible. The guy I known since I was 4. Lam hongye. our families were friends, despite different schools and living in different areas.. we remained close all the way till secondary 2. for some reason my entire life took a sharp turn when at the age of 15(secondary 3). there is no way I can forget the Saturdays he spent over at my house, lugging that huge bag of plastic swords and toys behind him. we basically grew up together.. even early pictures with my family had him in it... I temporarily became his parent's daughter(he was the only child).. they took us everywhere, lavished us with unreasonably huge sums of money at amusement parks or arcades. Even as we grew older when we went out while we were still drifting apart, his parents pressed money into his hands, telling him to dress smart and take me out to a nice dinner.

For some reason we just do not talk anymore. Although I am absolutely sure I am not forgotten, having received a little puny msg informing me he now has a gf and is now in the army. But everything else, I don’t know. Funny eh, relationships between people. One minute we were pelting water bombs at each other, mouths wide with laughter, combining our pocket money to buy a bubble gun. The next, over thousands of miles and 3 years after quietly slipping that little bracelet with our two names engraved on both sides into my hands as a goodbye at the airport, we only probably pop up in each other’s minds once in a while when we get nostalgic. Then again, I am probably just more sentimental than he is.

These are not the only friends I had that somehow impacted my life and then disappeared of course. These are the ones who just happen to wander into my mind as I was typing this.
At the same time, im looking at my own life right now, suppressing the anger, sorrow, joy and frustration rising up all at once. Its not nostaligia.. I just miss the friends that have NOT disappeared. I miss how easy it used to be to spend my days, without planning. Days I truly appreciated the rare times I sat alone in my balcony-turned-into-room, reading at my good old huge ass table. I should ask my parents if it is still there in the house.

Sometimes I ask myself why should I feel this lonely. why i have to punch myself to stop feeling so shitty. I have everything I need for now almost. Like what Ronald said : a happy family, pretty well off, big boobs i dont want(lol), an amazing bf who occasionally feels intangible, relatively good social skills, not many friends but receiving life changing education and a car. My life IS supposed to be almost complete.. I should stop picking battles with myself. Bored is good, they say. Bored is safe.

Hadn't I always wanted safe? when then am i taking deep breaths to stop myself from picking this keyboard up and smashing it against the monitor and table?

Desiring Only - P.K. Page

Desiring only the lean sides of the stomach
sagging towards each other, unupholstered...
pass me nothing of love done up in chocolates
or the fat first fruits of the tree
you planted from seed.

Desiring only the bone on the Mount of Venus
and the death rattle caught in the musical powder box...
pass me no hand, then, as offertory,
no, nor sound of your voice.
Keep silent and do not touch me.
Even the air on my face is an effrontery.

Desiring only the bare soles of the feet
pacing triumphantly the ultimate basement...
pass me no thick-carpeted personal contact,
nor little slippers of pity and understanding.

Waking - such goreous imagery

I lie in the long parenthesis of arms
dreaming of love
and the crying cities of Europe

wake to the bird a whistler in my room
and sun a secret.

Light on the bed of air
and buoyed by morning
and easy bugle of breath
projects an echo

while over the difficult room
the brimming wndow
opens the bandaged eyes
to the shape of Asia.

Invalid, I -
and crippled by sleep's illness,
drowned in the milk of sheets
and silk of dreams,
I rise and write the rising curve of day
with mercury of the smashed thermometer
and trouble the silent mirror, who have been
pale in suspension on the oval bed.

u know what pisses me off. when people put a gender lid on everything. like do you really think you are THAT special? bah. thinking men or women independently created the rise of poor sad bachelors, bisexuals, homosexuals, depression, blah blah. lame ass theories. blah blah, we poor sad girls.. men can't be trusted.. they dont understand us.. blah blah, hey fellow sob brothers.. women are too complicated... they can't be trusted. boohoo. SHUT UP. we're just people for god's sake. lay off the stupid superficiality and stop complaining. screw you all. men and women both like fuking each other up. dont sit on your ass and wail collectively about how the opposite sex ruined your life. everyone messes up.

i spent my entire life fighting against stereotypes and now im just tired. i used to argue that pms is no reason to be bitchy.. girl politics are stupid.. the fact that boys should do the dirty work is bullcrap.. that girls must not be too fat. too pumped.. that guys cannot hit a girl.. blah blah blah. i used to believe in mind over body. its so bloody annoying. shut up girl, who gives a crap about your cramps. grin and bear it. guys you want to be macho.. than ACTUALLY BE MACHO. dont FAKE it. its such a lousy flaw. FLAWS. its all about hiding flaws. go ahead get jealous.. just dont BITCH about it.

i bitch about everyone. everyone else bitches about everyone. a cycle of irritating bitching. why is it so bloody hard to find a friend? why must everyone be so pretentious? stop staring at my chest asshole. look at me in the face and talk. and stupid woman stop giving me dirty looks and TALK.

the thing is.. i cant believe i cultivated the same kind of jealousy girls share all around. i cant believe i let myself learn that. how lovely to be oblivious those years back.. when i didnt give a toss about competition. what the hell are we all competing for anyways? attention?! is that it? competition for attention? whats wrong with people these days. the existence of the stupid celebrity world is just pepetuating the harm done to people more than anything else. i cant believe i let myself fall into this pit. like wtf.. say my best friend wears the exact same thing.. or at least not far off(girls like to make sure this happens).. and they get smug like a bloody monkey that you look beter than her. WHAT IS THIS?!

im full of contradictions. i believe in laying out all your cards.. flaws and all.. and at the same time.. tucking the smudged cards under the table. man, i dont know. i hate pretentiousness.. and at the same time.. im one of the most disgsutingly pretentious people when i meet people i dont like or dont understand. vile hypocrisy.

ergh. whatever.

tihnk im gonna go to york early today.. stick my head in the books and get my essay out of the way. hammy i wanna go shopping :(

You And Me Song - The Wannadies ... happy sweet song to start the day!

Always will we find
I tried to make you love
'Til everything's forgotten
I know you hate that

Always will we fight
Kiss you once or twice
And everything's forgotten
I know you hate that

I love your Sunday song
The week's not yet begun
And everything is quiet
And it's always

You and me
Always and forever

Bop bop bop bop bop
It was always
You and me
Always

You tell me I'm a real man
I try to look impressed
Not very convincing
But you know I love it

I know we watch TV
'Til we fall asleep
Not very exciting
But it's you and me

And we'll always
Be together
You and me
Always and forever

its 2 something and i still can't sleep. must be the latte or something...

this whole ego bash between me and steve got me thinking about some other related things.. the concepts of feminity and masculinity. something i find ironic is that feminist extremists resort to displaying masculine attributes in order to make their point of the irrelevency of gender. its just like saying we need women who are like men while saying we don't need men at the same time. it just... doesnt fit to me.

i grew up being taught to sit, dress, eat, talk, walk like a girl who should be attracted to boys - boys who throw rocks and play with guns instead of dolls. girls to be girly. boys will be boys. pink is for girls. blue's for boys. i can't say, despite my inner struggle to choose between fighting or embracing it, that i am not taken by masulinity. although i dislike the bold, neon lines separating feminity and masculinity sometimes, i cannot escape the fact that this arrangement is still most comfortable with me.

the whole time hammy's watch was sitting on my table, i marvel at the contrast between that one thing and all my other stuff. it sat there, far too big for my wrist, metallic, almost symbolic of everything i am and my attraction to certain things. i tell myself i am a strong, independent female mind.. but when i stare at that watch I picked out for him, some weird indentity problems get triggered. how do i explain to myself why very-much=taller, bigger-sized-than-me-men and wonderfully masculine belt buckles and gorgeous suits and cufflinks and that particular series of BMWs appeal to me so, so greatly? how do i explain the irritation i feel when guys tell me its good to be the girlier person i am now? why do i feel so annoyed with myself for succumbing to useless girlish tendencies? then i wonder, if i was against the whole pretending-to-be-like-men deal, shouldn't i be happy im adapting fine to society? its just weird. i cant explain it. i had moments i wanted to pick it up and do what i used to do with my old rings, have that cool metallic iron taste against my tongue.. and at the same time.. im almost relieved to get it off my table.

clarification : i am not saying i only adore the extreme end of the masculine continunm.. boyishness is absolutely endearing to me too. and many other things in between. all im talking about are the supposedly cold, hard lines of masculinity against the supposedly thin, fragile baby lily stems of feminity... and how i feel standing on one side staring over the fence that is gradually getting more and more crowded.

.......... well i guess readers would have had enough of all that by now.. haha.. and noo of course thats not all i tihnk about. been thinking alot about the crazy past couple years. not crazy coz it was overflowing with fun and excitement... but crazy coz of of the things that changed in my life.. events that occurred.. the heartbreaking loneliness.. the tears i practically drowned in. then i fell in love.

excerpt from diary 7/1/05:
"so much has changed. sometimes i wonder if too much has.

i had never really daydreamed spending my eternity with a particular someone, travelling the globe, fighting battles or laughing with a particular someone beside me perhaps until lately.

i feel so ridiculous somehow saying this aloud. i tihnk of lindsay lohan publically proclaiming to the media her intent on settling down early, waking up to her true love each morning and being adored unconditionally. i think of her giddy smile, radiant cheeks, her head obviously in the clouds. i think of her saying this with that smile on her face and how her true love left her a few months after. so young, they say. so naive and silly, at 18 she was. is it really wrong to feel that way?

i fear saying this aloud. i fear the rejection. the blank stares, vacant eyes. mocking lips, anxious distancing footsteps.

i dare not say this aloud. i think of superstition. of the divine. the logically impossible. the sweetness magically evaporating.

maybe i just fear and need too much."

.....

its 3:15am. sigh, i better try to get to sleep.