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Tuesday, November 22, 2005 Well, I guess an update is way overdue, so here it is. Though I'm torn between posting a truly emotionless narrative and choosing its alternative, the highly emotional, and thoroughly mood-wrecking soul search I seem to relish. Given the rather sombre mood I'm currently in, I'm inclined to begin with the seemingly lighter account, to simply state what happened. The birthday's on my mind, first and foremost. And like I've told a few, the day started bad and grew progressively worse. But redeemed itself in the end anyway, like they're known to do. I could possibly just forget all the petty stuff (getting rained on, etc...), but I cannot forgive them for destroying my cake! Ohmygod. Typical, for my first birthday cake to get so hopelessly ruined. Imagine candles stuck haphazardly in one strange corner of the cake, wax running all over the top, mixing with the brilliantly colored fruit, turning them a hideous green. And might I just mention too, that they got the wrong number of candles?! And then there was a power cut and I burst into tears, which spoiled the night for him too. Ah it was crappy. I went home after that to stick the cake in the fridge for the brothers to find and devour. Then left again, headed for MOMO. But, who'd have thought my Mom would yell my name from the darkness of the multi-storey carpark, ordering me home before twelve? What the heck. We stayed till 2 anyway. And I got a birthday song from the band, and I tripped on the stage, which made me seem drunk, though I honestly was NOT. Well, not until the free drinks anyway. Hurhur. And even then, not really! At this point, a detail worth mentioning. I started this post three days before. The paragraphs don't really link up. It's easy to figure which one was written when. So let me continue. Erm so. I got a bear for my birthday this year. I got it quite some time before the big day, but if it's meant to be, it counts. If that makes any sense. It's white and furry (the only bear that's nowhere near furry, is Mr. Bean's bear, and that bear is, ridiculously hideous), and comes with a name! Haha. Not much of a name, I should say, but still. It's cute, when it's only the second bear you've ever ever gotten (first one was yellow from SzeYuen I think). So yes. Sugar's the name. And now it's a permanent fixture on my bed, though sometimes I manage to swipe it off in my sleep. Heh. I should be getting to work, I really should. Hmm. What next? I dug through my archives, to see what's been said on the past two birthdays. Nothing much. Nothing about the actual day, it seems. I hope that'll change. There aren't that many occasions for celebration. I could sure do with a few more. And the reflections. Lessons learnt. The storm's blown itself out, and now the sky's a peaceful blue. Nothing seems to be on the horizon, and for once, that's exactly how I want it to be. Just plain nothingness. Nothingness suits me. Perhaps I was never meant for the life I led. Guess I finally accept that. Like I've told a certain someone, I don't believe in miracles. Not anymore. But I believe things work out in the end. Maybe not in the most desirable way, but often in an acceptable way. Growing up brings pains, brings with it a point in life when most things you've taken for granted suddenly rise, and slap you wide awake. It's not the end of the world. It might just be the beginning. And if I don't get here again before that December day, christmas cheers to all you folks out there. AnRu reminisced at 8:36:00 AM.
Thursday, November 17, 2005 I find I seek to die. And seeking death, find life. AnRu reminisced at 2:46:00 PM.
Friday, November 11, 2005  I. Yes, I, finished typing that monster. Whoa accomplishment. But I've been given another one of its twins. TO CONTINUE TYPING. Bloody hell. I'm going home for the day. Meow. AnRu reminisced at 5:12:00 PM.
Monday, November 07, 2005 Last night I think I dreamt a beautiful song. But when I woke, the birds had flown and it was gone. My brother hit my Mom again. I don't think I can live with this for much longer. Strangely, it's much worse than any other abuse I've ever been through. And all the time there was the thin deathly sound of glass breaking into fragments, always, it seemed, one more and yet one more, continuing like the high scream of a madman with nothing left to destroy but himself. I'll just take my leave then. AnRu reminisced at 8:45:00 PM.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005 I fear her. What she may be, and what she may do. I never spoke with any like her. I dreamt of Veera a couple of days back, telling me that it was a waste to quit school. "Once in a long while, someone hits a standard this high, but you choose to quit." He seemed excessively annoyed about that. Or exasperated, shall we say. Insisted on keeping me on some program, but I stubbornly refused to have anything else to do with school. I woke up a while later, and didn't think much of the dream. Went to work, where I had the strongest sense of deja vu that I've had in a really long time. It was like I'd seen the store a long time ago, though it is logically impossible, having never stepped foot in Topman's storage space before that very moment. I remembered I'd searched for something, and failed to find it. I remembered the stacks of jeans, haphazardly stacked according to color and design. I remembered the pathetic attempt at organization, with tags down the sides of the shelves. I remembered the bags stacked close to the ceiling. I remembered being there, before. Which led me to think about our memory. So much happens in a lifetime. Given our active and often uninhibited imagination, in combination with our very limited memory, how much of our recollections really took place? We all have childhood tales to tell. It is the picture of bliss , to sit next to a warm fire, telling these tales with reverence, basking in the glow of yesteryears (and melodrama). Yet, when we are old and frail, which of us is going to truly remember having lived through those memories we so lovingly cherish? We would remember thinking, remembering and sharing these stories, at the same time grinning inwardly, but would we remember living them? That's a scary thought if there were ever any. When I'm old and frail, will I remember wearing dragonfly slippers to work on my first day at Topman? Will I remember having almost died from numbing, toe-curling pain? Will I remember the great relief when they transferred the ultimate gay? Will I remember the joy of seeing good friends at the end of a particularly gruelling day? How much is real, and how much would my mind make up to fill in the gaps between the years? Often, as I speak of childhood (hurried as it may have been, but cherished nonetheless), Mom claims none of it ever happened. But how would she know, how can she be so certain? They're entirely personal, till I choose to tell. She couldn't possibly have been around every second to watch me. So much would be different if she had been. Shrug. Mindless ramblings. The makings of a true lunatic. AnRu reminisced at 8:36:00 PM.
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Hurt and Deceived 18 November Dead and Gone I Turn To denise eternity georgia jamie leona lionel michelle neha priscilla samantha shane shujun terence terry vaish will yixuan Engraved In The Lines Of Yesterday
Tell Me Your Lies
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