the words you don't speak

Someone like you, someone like me.

2010-11-18T02:08:00.002+08:00

I couldn't do it

So I took a cold shower instead

There, with the water in my face,

You're not as harsh -

The unforgiving Ch,

Ending in a hiss

You're just rushing water in my ears

Blood in my head

I couldn't do it

So I took a cold shower instead

I watched my veins pop, turn purple

Watched the color go from my face

I'm going to do it

I'm going to turn off the shower

But you will be harsh again

Like knives that refuse to cut

And just leave blunt bruises

That remind me of how helpless I am

And still you're there,

You're blinking green,

Taunting me.

Or maybe it's just in my head.

You're just in my head.

You don't get to keep hurting me.

2010-06-20T02:32:00.001+08:00

To read list:

Sophie's World

Prozac Nation

I Never Promised You A Rose Garden

Girl, Interrupted

只可惜爱不是忍着眼泪，留着情书

2010-06-12T14:12:00.002+08:00

Dear You,

I need you to stop being nice to me. When you play nice, I can almost pretend that maybe, just maybe, you aren't using me. But each time you go home to her, you kill a little more of me.

At least have the decency to dash my hopes. I never expected you to be anything more than just truthful. It is not like you ever even wanted me. Maybe you savour the power you hold over me; the knowledge that you could completely devastate me, that I would keep coming back for more.

But I guess you (and all the others who precede you) just proof that there is not one of your kind who is capable of telling the truth. Maybe it is just nature for you to lie, even when there is no practical purpose.

Sure, I've heard all the lame excuses and believed each one at least a few dozen times. But I know I'm just lying to myself too. I don't really buy any of the bullshit you tell me (though, God knows, I want to). So I just pretend to. Because I don't think I could bear the reality of it; not quite yet. I'm afraid I'll see you for exactly what you are, then have to leave you because my principles cannot be compromised; and I'm not ready to do that. I'm not sure I ever will be ready. Oh but wait, I was never with you. Mea maxima culpa.

I suppose I could take the easy way out and just replace you. But experience and injury have proven to me that never works - not in the long run anyway.

So if you didn't read a single word in the paragraphs above, here's the message: stop being nice to me.

Thanks,

Me.

I like picking strawberries

2010-05-09T17:45:00.003+08:00

It's been a rough ride and it still is. Every single day.

9 months and plenty of encounters later I'm more broken than I can ever remember being. Just overwhelming disappointment. Cynicism.

Impossible

All things considered, I'm honestly the best I could possibly be. Maybe you need to respect that you'll never know what it's like because you've never been in these shoes - and you have no right to judge till you can scrutinise every aspect of my life and me through these same lenses. Till then, please stop telling me that there's so much more to life and that I could be so much more. I can't. Not now, not in the near future. It's not because I'm not trying.

Just being here is trying enough.

Fifth day of the snow

2009-12-06T21:57:00.006+08:00

Day 124:

I should be pursuing more worthwhile activities but I'd rather be here, talking to you.

You know what I think hurts the most? The feeling of being replaced. It's like no matter what you did, it wasn't enough. And no matter what you do to try and capture their heart again doesn't seem to work. And you're suddenly left thinking that you'll never be enough. And a sudden sadness captures your heart that never really leaves.

How often have you put fingers to that rubbery mask only to find streams flowing from those two deep dark pools that scare you so?

Their watery depths no longer sparkle.
They're pools of still water.
There's no life in still water.

Christmas cheer is getting to everyone and they all want to know "How are you?"

Not great, folks. Not great.

But for your benefit, it's all good. It's never been better.
And how are you, darling?

It's been a year since this time

2009-09-07T10:35:00.002+08:00

I bit into the bagel eagerly. After all, it's been a year since this time and I've missed it. But it tasted nothing like what I'd remembered. Perhaps it really isn't about what you do, but who you do it with. Nothing's the same this time. I'm alone in the house; I have to face my own fears. There's no one coming to visit me. The Beacon we stayed at the last time has shut its doors and in its place, a swanky upscale boutique hotel has been drawing a crowd. The donut store that I got so many sugary fixes from is gone. There's a Burger King around the corner. Many of the nightmarket stalls I'd grown familiar with and fond of have disappeared. Even the crowd is different - there are so many more foreigners now.

And I catch myself wondering why I keep coming back here. What does this place hold for me?

I'm way more comfortable here than I ever was in Singapore. Sure, the mass transit network is easily navigated back home; there's no starving in the middle of the night with the multitude of late night prata stalls and coffee shops; amenities are within easy reach and conveniently located; the air isn't thick with smog; the water is potable... the list could go on. Yet I keep coming back here and am always sad to leave.

I don't understand it.

I've lived in Singapore all my life, truly born and bred. But there's something about this place that feels more like home even though I'm lost here in the city, I always am. I haven't figured out the traffic rules and the roads are just one massive ball of spaghetti - curling round each other, bringing you to strange parts of town if godforbid you should ever take a wrong turn. I haven't truly explored even central Taiwan. My knowledge of this place is so limited.

Perhaps here I find the space I seek. I spend all day by myself (sure I'm on MSN a lot, but in the silent gaps of time I'm sitting alone and being with myself), learning new things about the way I think and see the world, learning to appreciate my own company, learning to live with myself really.

Perhaps I like my mom better here. She's happier with her own family. She's doesn't yell as much. Sometimes we're almost close. Also, being on the scooter when she's on the wrong side of the road and without a license kinda makes us partners in crime and that's a great feeling. Haha.

There's so much I want to say but it gets lost in the structure of a paragraph. This is why, darls, you'll never be as rewarding as a conversation.

crimson tail in raging seas

2009-08-02T02:14:00.000+08:00

For you, young sailor
She'll shed her scales
Give up her fins
Her treasures of the seas
For honest, earth-bound, weary feet
And the chance to walk alongside thee

She'll surrender the power birth conferred
Silence her song and
Seduce not another
For a mermaid falls in love but once
And henceforth ceases to be

In my shoes.

2009-07-12T06:17:00.002+08:00

I spent the past five hours watching comedy.

I cannot explain why I'm still awake. I cannot explain why I'm crying. I cannot explain why these ancient ghosts still follow me around, whispering in my ear, not even bothering to disguise themselves anymore.

There is, as always, this overwhelming temptation to push everyone away, leave everything behind. To go someplace new, to start over, to sort myself out and deal with issues that I never felt were important enough to mention. To head for the hills, the seas, the dark corners.

The sleepwalking has started again. I'm afraid of seeking help. I'm afraid they will make me completely unpredictable, volatile and dangerous. So I spend a few nights each month soaking tissues because that's what I know how to do. Sometimes that makes me tired and I fall asleep and when I wake up I don't have the luxury of sitting with the ghosts anymore, so I get through another day.

But I have nothing to say and don't know what I'll do.

你不是真正的快乐

2009-06-20T22:28:00.009+08:00

人群中哭着
你只想变成透明的颜色
你再也不会
梦或痛或心动了
你已经决定了
你已经决定了

你静静忍着
紧紧把昨天在拳心握着
而回忆越是甜
就是越伤人了
越是在手心留下
密密麻麻深深浅浅的刀割

你不是真正的快乐
你的笑只是
你穿的保护色
你决定不恨了
也决定不爱了
把你的灵魂
关在永远锁上的躯壳

这世界笑了
於是你合群的一起笑了
当生存是规则
不是你的选择
於是你含着眼泪
飘飘荡荡跌跌撞撞的走着

你不是真正的快乐
你的笑只是
你穿的保护色
你决定不恨了
也决定不爱了
把你的灵魂
关在永远锁上的躯壳

你不是真正的快乐
你的伤从不肯
完全的癒合
我站在你左侧
却像隔着银河
难道就真的抱着遗憾
一直到老了
然後才後悔着

你不是真正的快乐
你的笑只是
你穿的保护色
你决定不恨了
也决定不爱了
把你的灵魂
关在永远锁上的躯壳

你不是真正的快乐
你的伤从不肯
完全的癒合
我站在你左侧
却像隔着银河
难道就真的抱着遗憾
一直到老了

你值得真正的快乐
你应该脱下
你穿的保护色
为什麽失去了
还要被惩罚呢
能不能就让悲伤
全部结束在此刻
重新开始活着

Just for the record.

2009-05-08T02:43:00.000+08:00

the exhibitionist, like the egoist in me, wants the world to see the essay. the one that couldn't have been my own work.

Write a critical appreciation of To an Unborn Pauper Child by Thomas Hardy.

In this poem, Hardy expresses his cynicism towards life as he attempts to warn an unborn child of the trials and tribulations he would have to endure, if he were to be born into this world. Yet, despite all his cynicism and jaded words, Hardy recognises that there are things in life worth celebrating, things which bring "joys seldom yet attained by humankind!"

In the first stanza, there are regular pauses and the lines end in soft rhymes. This is soothing to the ear, and is reminiscent of the way one might speak to a child, with no harsh sounds and/or tones. Already, Hardy is warning the unborn child about life, how "travails and teens" surround them. The use of the word "heap" sugests an overwhelming, perhaps that the pain and sufferings of life suffocate people. Also, the mention of "Time-wraiths" gives a haunting quality to the opening stanza, somewhat symbolic of people living their lives as tortured souls roaming the earth.

In the second stanza, we encounter an obvious irregularity in the structure of this poem. The fourth line of the second stanza is not indented as in all other stanzas. Also, excessive usage of commas and semicolons in the first two lines serves to increase the tempo of the poem, conveying perhaps, mounting agitation as Hardy continues to talk about how dismal life is. To him, nothing can stand the test of time as "laughters fail, and greeting die: Hopes dwindle;yea, Faiths waste away, Affections and enthusiasms numb". Eventually, anything optimistic or positive fades with time, making life unbearable and gloomy and very depressing. The last line brings out a sense of resignation as Hardy tells the unborn child that "thou canst not mend these things if thou dost come". We can just imagine him saying these words with a heavy sigh, believing that there is nothing that can change things, make life better.

The third stanza shows Hardy lamenting his inability to prevent pain and suffering from happening to the unborn child, and the child's inability to choose whether or not to be born. Once again, the punctuation in this stanza has returned to the regularity of the opening stanza and takes on the tone usually used with very young kids. This suggests Hardy's weariness at his situation, as if the agitation of the past stanza has worn him out and left him resigned to his life.

Yet, there is, once again, a quickening in pace in the fourth stanza, that persists till the end of the poem. The run on lines in this stanza, like the excessive usage of punctuation in the second, portrays a kind of restlessness and agitation, that perhaps, fuels Hardy's anger and cynicism towards life. To him, nothing that happens makes sense, thus making it impossible for anyone to explain life's plans ("Explain none can life's pending plan"). Also, the mention of unpreventable natural disasters serves to prove how life is full of upheaval and problems for the average human.

Hardy wishes he were able to provide a sanctuary for this unborn child he addresses, but regrets his inability to do so. "But I am as weak as thou and bare" heightens the feeling of disappointment, regret, bitterness and quiet resignation in this poem, as the poet prepares us for his final conclusion.

Finally, Hardy presents a change in tone and moves away from the negative thoughts of the past four stanzas. In his final concluding stanza, Hardy admits "that [he] can hope", and that there are things worth celebrating, the very things he laments would not stand the test of time in stanza two. We can see that he values "health, love and friends" above everything else in the world, believing that they can bring "joys seldom yet attained by humankind!" Hardy is not as jaded as he portrays himself to be. He has not let the material comforts and/or wants blind him to the basic, valuable things in life such as health, love and friends. He still believes they exist, and still perhaps, yearns for them himself.

In conclusion, through this poem, Hardy has proven himself to be more than a cynical, jaded person living a meaningless life full of complaints. We are able to see that Hardy is still very much hopeful, just perhaps disappointed by how his own life turned out, and disheartened by the things that happen around him. This poem arouses empathy and sympathy as most of us are able to easily relate to the subject matter, and understand how painful it is.

Bye you!

2008-12-31T23:56:00.002+08:00

Georgia Rule. The script is done to death, in usual Hollywood style. But the story hits surprisingly close to home. I think I finally see things from my mother's eyes.

Be gone, you.

2008-12-23T04:04:00.002+08:00

In times of change, learners inherit the Earth, while the learned find
themselves beautifully equipped to deal with a world that no longer exists.
- Eric Hoffer, American social philosopher, 1902-1983

"I have as much authority as the Pope. I just have fewer people who believe it."
- George Carlin

"Honesty may be the best policy, but its important to remember that apparently, by elimination, dishonesty is the second-best policy."
- George Carlin

"All the great things are simple, and many can be expressed in a single word: freedom, justice, honor, duty, mercy, hope."
- Winston Churchill

2008-11-18T16:23:00.002+08:00

Stewie and Brian.

I don't know what went wrong. I was just trying to live for the moment, you know. Cos Life can end so abruptly and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

Is that why you've been on this path of self destruction? You know, Brian, as smart as you are, you've got to accept the fact that there are some things in life you just can't control.

You mean the way you can't control that messed up way you laugh when you think something's really really funny?

Yes and I accept that. Your problem is, you think that just because you're not in control, nothing matters; that you don't matter. But you know what? You matter to someone. You matter big time.

they left you with nothing

2008-11-02T12:02:00.002+08:00

I guess I should be familiar with this feeling. It's not the first time; won't be the last time. But for now, allow me to wander away; to tend to my wounds.

What a daunting task to live for oneself.

2008-09-14T09:25:00.002+08:00

So it's 9am on Sunday, and I cannot sleep. And I can't even go out in search of breakfast because it is frigging pouring outside. The damn typhoon has been here nearly two days now, and shows no sign of weakening or leaving! Damn it!

In other news, isn't Ollie a completely adorable name for a tot?
Ollie and Ally and mommy and daddy :)

She felt it everyday.

2008-09-09T17:05:00.002+08:00

I still wonder at times, if we will last, if we will see forever come true. If, maybe, when the pressure mounts, you'll find the same faults with me again. If we will ever get past the hurdles that present themselves with such flourish.

Her feelings she hides
Her dreams she can't find
She's losing her mind
She's fallen behind
She can't find her place
She's losing her faith
She's fallen from grace
She's all over the place

But you'll be my wonderwall, at least for today. And maybe I ought to be grateful just for that.

I need some wisdom in my life.

I remember when you used to love me.

2008-08-23T20:13:00.002+08:00

I want to scream and throw things. I want to claw at walls, I want to bleed. I want to end this misery. The tears come and go, and hysteria accompanies them. I would never believe anyone if they tried to tell me betrayal hurts this much. Now I know all too well.

I won't see you tonight so I can keep from going insane

You know I love you, but that knowledge was never enough to keep you secure, to keep you faithful. You don't bother covering your tracks. I've told you before that you are free to do as you will, as you wish, as long as I never find out, as long as I never have to deal with the mountain of evidence against you. But you can't protect me; not even from that.

You ask that I trust you. And when I hear your voice everything makes sense. But every morning I wake up to the same nightmare, and yet you think it is I who has been unfaithful. Every morning I find out about something else, some new detail that you neglected to mention, something you tried to hide, even while being "completely open and honest" with me.

The days end with me ignoring my better judgment; I fall for your traps over and over. I convince myself I would rather be with you and never stop wondering, then not be with you at all. I try to believe I am happier this way.

But it gets tougher with each passing day, with each new girl I find out about, with each new encounter I hear of. I thought our Love would stand all trials. But these trials are new, these trials I've never had the pleasure of undergoing. These trials will kill me.

I want you to leave. I want to be alone to lick my wounds. Everytime you say "nothing happened" you open a new gash in me. And just when I think I've found the courage to ask you to go, the little voice speaks up again.

What if?

2008-08-21T18:47:00.000+08:00

Tomorrow never comes for the dreamer. At least not the tomorrow he forsees. For that tomorrow requires much more of today than a mere dream. It requires action. And action is a tool of the waking.

They'll pay you a thousand dollars for a kiss, and fifty cents for your soul.

2008-07-29T12:58:00.003+08:00

Dearest, it's been a while. I don't even know how long it's been.

I've spent the past month and twenty odd days hiding in a little house in the middle of Taiwan. Will tentatively be here for two more months, and fly back sometime in October, but I somehow find I'm less likely to return with each passing day.

Maybe it's because I've had a view of the sea for too long and have started to take it for granted. Now I have a view of the mountain ranges stretching along the middle of Taiwan. On a clear day, I have the most spectacular view of some of the highest peaks in the whole country, right from the comfort of my living room. I no longer have a view of the shoreline though. I traded the sea for the mountains.

Maybe it's the knowledge that I can trudge downstairs to any convenience store (and they truly are very conveniently scattered around the area - they are never further than a five minute walk down whichever street you're on) and buy any number of strange foods or drinks that we never get to see in Singapore. Things like oolong milk tea, strawberry tea, milkshakes and/or interesting (in an experimental kind of way) vegetable juices.

Maybe it's my fluency in a different language that makes me stand out here. Here, I don't feel lost in the crowd. I still feel like an outsider looking upon most of the action, but at least I feel like I am of interest to others.

Maybe it's the fact that I don't know anyone here. I don't feel left behind. I'm living with two cousins, and the truth is, right now, none of us know where we're headed in life, or what we're doing the next day. But for now, it's all good, it's all okay. As long as the floods don't come through the door, we're fine; we'll see tomorrow.

Maybe being away teaches me to be independent, shows me that I can be away from home, that I really don't need others to stand.

Maybe being away gives me the freedom that I've been searching for since breaking away from the binds of TJ.

But dearest, we all know I'm running away.

Cos I'm out of my mind.

2008-06-08T12:33:00.001+08:00

So darling shoes is finally back and I'm on my way out. Blogging at the departure gate is just something I cannot resist. I mean, how often do you get to do it anyway?

Will be gone for 2 months! Ta!

I am growing up.

2008-04-20T20:45:00.003+08:00

I am, I really am. And I've been thinking a lot. I finally know why now.

18 Sept 07 - 17 April 08.

I wish we could have had that talk earlier, then maybe we wouldn't have had to break up. I wish I could have realized it sooner so I wouldn't have torn us apart. But what's done is done, and I'm just glad I've had the chance.

We had good times, baby. I'll remember them. I still love you, but now as a friend. Think we're better as friends.

Now to get my life back on track before I push anyone else away.

I think we can handle that, can't we? Growing up is easy.

A lifetime without you

2008-04-20T01:35:00.002+08:00

I can't live, if living is without you. I can't give, can't give anymore.

It's all over, just like that. All my fairytale dreams, castles in the skies. I don't know why. I don't understand it. I would give anything, bend to fit any mold, for him. But it's just not good enough; I don't have anything left to give.

It started with denial. I saw it coming a long time ago, yet still failed to be ready for it. 'It will not happen', I told myself. But it did. Even after it did, I told myself it wasn't real; it's only temporary. Then was desperation - going insane when calls went unanswered. Now it's a sharp pain in the side, a maroon hurt.

There's still this wonder, this amazement, this... 'Wow, I never knew I could hurt so much'.

Why isn't love enough? Why send me someone to promise the future then brutally snatch him away? Why chide me for being cynical and pessimistic then provide justification for my negativity?

But most of all, why can't you accept that I love you?

What can I do?

2008-04-02T15:07:00.000+08:00

I haven't slept at all in days
It's been so long since we've talked
And I have been here many times
I just don't know what I'm doing wrong

What can I do to make you love me
What can I do to make you care
What can I say to make you feel this
What can I do to get you there

There's only so much I can take
And I just got to let it go
And who knows I might feel better
If I don't try and I don't hope

What can I do to make you love me
What can I do to make you care
What can I say to make you feel this
What can I do to get you there

No more waiting, No more aching
No more fighting, No more trying

Maybe there's nothing more to say
And in a funny way I'm calm
Because the power is not mine
I'm just gonna let it fly

What can I do to make you love me
What can I do to make you care
What can I say to make you feel this
What can I do to get you there

Love me..

What makes a mother?

2008-03-18T17:58:00.002+08:00

I thought of you and closed my eyes and prayed to God today.
I asked what makes a mother and I know I heard him say...
"A mother has a baby."
This we know is true.
But can you be a mother when your baby's not with you?

"Yes, you can," He said with confidence in His voice.
"I give many women babies. When they leave is not their choice.
Some I send for a lifetime, and others for a day.
Some I send to fill your womb but there's no need to stay."

"I just don't understand this, God. I want my baby here."
He took a breath and cleared His throat and then I saw a tear.
"I wish that I could show you what your child is doing today.
If you could see your child smile with other children and say,

'We go to earth to learn our lessons of love and life and fear.
My Mommy loved me oh, so much I got to come straight here.
I feel so lucky to have a Mom who had so much love for me.
I learned my lesson very quickly. My Mommy set me free.
I miss my Mommy oh, so much but I visit her each day.
When she goes to sleep, on her pillow is where I lay.
I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek and whisper in her ear,
'Mommy, don't be sad today. I'm your baby and I'm here.'

"So, you see, my dear sweet one, your child is okay.
Your baby is here in my home and this is where she'll stay.
She'll wait for you with me until your lesson is through.
And on the day that you come home, She'll be at the gates for you.

So, now you see what makes a mother. It's the feeling in your heart.
It's the love you had so much of right from the very start.
Though some on earth may not see you're a mother with a child,
They'll be up here with me one day and know you've always been one."

We fall into the rivers with our pockets full of stones

2008-02-20T18:23:00.002+08:00

Like a conversation between two friends once close but separated by time, this entry will begin with a discussion about the weather.

10 years ago I may have described the current weather as azure blue skies and miles of magnolia white clouds. These days everything seems a little less beautiful. So it's sunny, and partly cloudy; 29 degrees, visibility more than 10 kilometres - very fine weather, by all means. A very fine day really, except for the fact that my teeth are chattering, my hands and feet are turning blue and the sight of that empty shadow in the mirror breaks my heart.

Suffice to say I haven't been well; that it's becoming real difficult to keep this masquerade.

The dreams have returned. Sharks, clowns, doors swinging open, dense fog, strange landscapes. I dream of lashing out at faceless menaces, only to find their wounds on my arms. I wake up disoriented, I have no idea where I am. Dreams haunt me even in the sunlight, and I check over my shoulder. Just in case.

I feel the slide that I've come to know so well. This is just the beginning, there's more to come. I'm done with fighting. Maybe if I didn't fight back, it wouldn't hurt so bad. A decade ago I witnessed a death, but maybe this time things will be different.

It's yet another replay.

Maybe this will be the last.

There's a lot of bad and beware

2008-02-06T22:04:00.001+08:00

A year ago.

I'll always remember you as a child.

So easy I must say

2008-02-06T20:00:00.001+08:00

There are songs that get inside your head and grate on your nerves and fill all the empty spaces of sanity. Then there are songs that are so timeless you can never imagine having never had it around in the first place.

I wish I didn't wish so hard

2008-01-25T16:39:00.001+08:00

I've just watched Before Sunrise, in which Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy play two young people who meet randomly on a EuroStar, and spend one eventful night in Vienna.

He's American, catching a flight out of Vienna after breaking up with his girlfriend in Madrid. She's on the Eurostar going back to Paris after visiting her grandmother in Budapest.

They strike up a conversation and decide they have to keep talking, even after the train reaches Vienna. So he persuades her to join him for one night, then board the train and go back to her life again the next day.

They spend the rest of the night talking about their lives, their hopes and dreams, their past, their quirks, things that annoy them... everything. Compressed conversations of a lifetime, all the while aware of the pressing urgency of the approaching dawn.

And finally, they each go back to their lives, not knowing it will be another nine years before they meet again.

Suffice to say I'm depressed.

I watch Before Sunrise and Before Sunset over and over, and it never fails to make me depressed, but I always comes back to it because I get caught up in the dialogue.

Happy New Year

2008-01-01T23:30:00.001+08:00

Against all odds, here we are again, facing a new year.

This past year was overwhelming, with change around every corner. Certainly it was the most exhilarating end to my adolescence. Yet through all that, I think I somehow managed to stick to my resolutions. I've cut my hair short - something I've been thinking about doing for a couple of years now. I've also (kind of) learnt to not regret the choices I make. I haven't quite managed to lose as much weight as I'd intended to, but surely that can be made up for.

This past year, like a chapter out of my life story, wove its tale around two intertwined but wholly separate concepts. Love and Loss; which every teenager stepping past the threshold into adulthood ought to prepare themselves for. Selfless and unconditional Love - as Love should be, and Loss; pitch black and hollow.

I've felt Love tug at my heartstrings, let Loss consume my spirit. Still I believe I'm now better for it. I feel old, yes. Beyond my years, and much wiser. The "what if"s and "if only"s that previously clouded my view of the future have been left behind with the past year. I bring with me now only the better memories, the lessons learnt from past failures, true friends.

This year, I'm hoping for change and stability. Change in mindset, attitude and choices in life; Stability in relationships and financial matters.

This time, I know I'll get it right.
How can I not, with an angel guiding my path?

2008.

Like a prayer, come what may.

If the red were duller, darker, older

2007-12-19T18:54:00.000+08:00

If you only had the vaguest idea how much you've put me through. More accurately, if only you knew how much I've been through because of you.

And all that remains of what once was is disappointment and bitter resentment.

I loved you with a fire red, now it's burning blue.

2007-12-09T03:29:00.000+08:00

Someone very wise once said (on facebook) that everyone you encounter in life was sent either for a reason, season or for life.

Maybe you were sent for a reason. Maybe I needed to learn a lesson on sacrifice, maybe I needed to learn to love. Maybe it was time to sit up and face life and make decisions that shape my future.

Perhaps you were sent for a season. Perhaps I needed light and joy to guide me through tough times. Perhaps I needed to shelve impractical dreams and focus on reality. Perhaps you kept me from heading into choppy seas.

You did as was God's intent, then went on your way. I hope God made you one of his Angels went you left this place.

I'm sorry; for all you've given me, I've only shared my pain.

Times Square can't shine as bright as You.

2007-11-19T18:54:00.000+08:00

It was incredibly sweet, romantic and totally cheesy - the perfect end to adolescence.

Words cannot do the magic any justice.

Thank you baby. And darling! And darling's darling. Lol. And all the other lovelies with their well-wishes, thank you.

as she sings him a lullaby

2007-11-11T18:26:00.000+08:00

Sebas tells you, follow the facts.

It's all driving me quite mad indeed. I've been meaning to say something about this, but every time it's at the tip of my tongue, I wonder if I'm expecting too much; if I've been fooled by Disney into believing they could possibly be any other way.

Tell me, what do you do, when Cupid's got you in a chokehold?

Is it something I've done, something I'm doing wrong? Why does history repeat itself; why do they all turn out the same way?

If I were one given to spite, perhaps I'd be getting along just fine with life. But I haven't learned, it seems, to believe the world truly ugly, and get prickly with my defenses.

All these promises, I've heard them before.

If that's all they're about, I guess I'm better off being alone.

2007-11-04T19:26:00.000+08:00

Apparently it's too much to ask.
Just too damn much.

I don't even have the energy to be pissed off anymore.

I just...

I give up.

Took my troubles to a bar tonight, for another point of view.

2007-11-02T23:22:00.000+08:00

But there's nothing new. I'm missing you.

The bus went by the hospital today, and my heart tore at the seams once more. I saw, in a distant memory, the playground suspended in mid-air between the womens' and children's wards. I saw the solemn gray wisps rising from the chimneys. I saw the nonchalance on the faces of the boatmen. I saw the questioning looks from the passers-by, directed upon this young girl carrying a mysterious box, anguish apparent in her face.

This anguish, it's a deep violet, it's a slow blue burn. It hurts. Surely, it aches. And times like these, I want to rip my heart out and patiently piece it back together so it won't pierce anymore.

But there's nothing new. I'm missing you.

By the time that we get through, things will never be the same.

2007-10-21T00:51:00.000+08:00

Time does not heal wounds. It may blur vivid colors; it may blunt sharp edges; it may smooth raw surfaces, but it does not heal wounds.

What time does, instead, is play trickery on our minds.

A random profile, a sudden inspiration.

"Where is the most romantic place you've been to?" was the question. A thousand word entry shall be my response. Response, not answer. I will not be answering the question - what follows has nothing to do with romance.

Memories are funny things. No concrete detail remains in our memories. Everything is mere color, emotion and sound. Maybe I should say no mere detail remains in our memories - everything is exclusively color, emotion and sound. Yes, perhaps then I would be getting my priorities right.

We can all be conditioned for emotions. We can be made to feel happy, sad or angry (or happy, sad and angry) with the ease of a gesture. Picture a balloon, a castle, a glacier, a cafe. These are the stimulants, and our reactions to them are conditioned; the mind will bring to its surface emotions connected with these stimulants, while the actual details of the events may elude us.

It seems my memory has, over the years, been diligently categorized by the complex filing system that is the way my brain functions. There exists the factual memory - chemical equations, grammar, Wikipedia entries, etc. But alongside it, you will find the color memory - a bank of images that make no sense in the conscious realm. These images surface in my sleep; they form the canvas of my dreams. These images are indisputably real, yet they are illogical - the sea is purple in these images, the sand is green; flowers that are tossed up in the air stay that way - they never succumb to gravity.

Oh but there is a point to this seemingly irrelevant flow of thoughts.

The point is, (and I am struggling, at this point, to find the perfect words to do my thoughts justice, instead of passing this off as mere whimsical chatter) when asked the question "Where is the most romantic place you've been to?", what my mind invokes is not the factual bank, but the one where images collect in an unintelligible heap; never to be dug through and made proper sense of.

It drags up the purple sea, the green sand, the gravity-defying flowers, but it does not drag up a place to answer the question.

You're the only chance I'll take.

2007-10-15T00:12:00.000+08:00

Today, on the 15th of October, just a little over a month away from turning Twenty, I dwell on Life's greatest lesson - that of sacrifice.

A life has been sacrificed in exchange for my freedom and autonomy; a life born of me and dead within me. Indeed, it may be the most beautiful experience my very young life has had the opportunity to come across. Its ephemeral beauty lies in its intangible nature. Surely I felt the life within me, and surely I saw Luka. Yet, I never saw Life. I saw in the circumstances, only Death.

Luka became the sacrifice, instead of me. I was selfish. But what's done is done, and there's nowhere to go but forward. It comes as no surprise that, on this day that we should have been welcoming him into the world, I embark on a new chapter of Life. Perhaps not the chapter I'd originally planned on writing, but one that I'm now certain will turn out all right in the end.

I will allow myself time for grief till dawn breaks. When the Sun arrives on the horizon to present Tomorrow as a gift, I will be as I was ten years ago - eager to pursue the Future. For what Luka has given me is more than Life; 'tis direction and purpose.

Happy Birthday, little one. I shall be keeping you in my prayers.

you only see what your eyes want to see..

2007-10-13T10:55:00.000+08:00

I saw myself in the mirror this morning; face ashen, eyes a glassy opaque white - there is nothing in them.

I haven't seen myself in a long time.

Slide

2007-10-04T18:42:00.000+08:00

a late april day and it’s sunny outside
and a red little girl’s at the top of a slide
an orange old man at the bottom
wants to take her for a ride

as she slips and she tumbles the orange man mumbles
pennies fall out of the sky
and he tells her he’ll take her away where it’s safe
and of course that is a lie

she’s a third the way down and her skirts are yanked up
and her little girl cheeks start to wrinkle
but her smile is wide and her legs are spread wider
her hair growing long and her hips getting larger
past getting brighter
light growing weaker

she is halfway down now but the man is impatient
shakes change in his pocket he might to wait
but she’s coming…
she’s coming…
she’s coming…

who are you blaming?
they’re just playing!
that’s a good one…

who left the playground
a good decade before the bell rang?

as she starts to draw nearer the view becomes clearer
the splinters are painful but she doesn’t feel it
the pennies were loaded and as they exploded
she starts to spin out of control

her eyes are now closing her sleeves are unrolling
up past her head and her veins are all showing
not that she noticed
she’s thoroughly focused on one old man
who’s laughing…
who’s laughing…
who’s laughing…

don’t worry
I’ve got you (x5)

the orangeman got you…..

a late april day and it’s sunny outside
and a red little girl’s at the top of a slide
an orange old man at the bottom

wants to take her for a ride

I wish I could speak in song, but words are all I have.

2007-09-24T00:27:00.000+08:00

Indeed, wishes are all I have.

Look me in the eyes.

2007-09-21T22:10:00.000+08:00

Beginning to wonder if the problem really lies with me after all. Perhaps nothing was ever wrong except in my head. Perhaps everything was imaginary.

Perhaps I don't have the courage to watch the natural outcome of something beautiful, for fear that it may turn ugly. Perhaps that's why I leave.

Flames to dust; Lovers to friends. Why do all good things come to an end?

2007-09-17T15:51:00.000+08:00

Go on and close the curtains
All we need is candlelight
You and me and a bottle of wine
Going to hold you tonight

We know I'm going away
How I wish....wish it weren't so
Take this wine and drink with me
Let's delay our misery

Save tonight
And fight the break of dawn
Come tomorrow
Tomorrow I'll be gone

There's a log on the fire
And it burns like me for you
Tomorrow comes with one desire
To take me away....it's true

It ain't easy to say goodbye
Darling please don't start cry'
Cause ~~girl~~ you know I've got to go
Lord I wish it wasn't so

Save tonight
And fight the break of dawn
Come tomorrow
Tomorrow I'll be gone

Tomorrow comes to take me away
I wish that I......that I could stay
Girl you know I've got to go
Lord I wish it wasn't so

Save tonight
And fight the break of dawn
Come tomorrow
Tomorrow I'll be gone....

If I should ever find the key you hide so well, would you tell me that I can spend the night?

2007-07-05T16:19:00.000+08:00

It seems the strains of Maroon 5 will forever remind me of those troubled days in March. Of sitting at the window, watching the rolling clouds stretch towards the sea. Of dashing through spring showers, too distracted to enjoy it like I used to, at sixteen. Of mornings; and really, whole days, spent in bed drifting in and out of sleep, shuttling between hopeful wishes for the future and the gloomy belief that Nothing Good Will Happen.

How I would have liked to watch Luka grow up. To see him open his eyes for the very first time. To hear his first words. There's so much I would have taught him. There was so much ahead of him.

We rationalise, we try to console ourselves: It was the right thing to do, we couldn't provide for him, we're not ready, we'd be lousy at parenting, he won't be healthy, we haven't been taking care of him. But that is so far from the truth. The truth is, it was the convenient thing to do. And we were selfish.

I wonder if he felt any pain? I wonder if he knew what was coming? I wonder, if for one second, he thought we didn't love him. I wonder if he'd really bid me farewell, or if it was just my hopeful imagination. His hands, I wonder if they meant anything.

Did he struggle to hold on past the twentieth because he was aware of the significance? Did he hang on tight, waiting for his father to arrive? Did he hear us cry?

Mostly, I wonder if I'd put my foot down that night, if I had refused to continue with the pills, would he have been all right?

The little one, now printed on so many cigarette packs across the nation - I wonder whose baby he was.

Iza is 26. Her daughter is 9.

Why couldn't I?

We'll be playmates and lovers and share our secret worlds

2007-06-22T12:17:00.000+08:00

Came home last night and found supper waiting for me! And not your typical, everyday kinda supper either! Supper, prepared especially for me by the boyfriend! -swoons-

Heh.

And since I'm in a good mood today, pictures shall tell my story.

Botanical Gardens, a week before hospitalization. A random flower that caught my attention, along the way. The only flower within sight at that single moment. And such a picture of life, I had to capture it in its eternity.

East Coast Park, 1 June 2007. While the boyfriend busied himself with Cohesion Day with his boys from camp, I sat on the breakwater and watched the sea's every ebb and flow, throwing itself relentlessly against the shore. They thought I was emo-ing. I wasn't. I was just trying to get a tan, really. But tan lines were all I got - on my feet.

Vandalism, 7 Jun 2006. At the boardwalk around the border of Changi Beach Club. The memories of etiquette classes, bowling training, family days, tennis practice.

Is it just me, or does it seem like the above pictures all consist of the same few hues?

And this is how it all began. (:

Confessions of a broken heart.

2007-04-25T13:03:00.000+08:00

Oh my sleeping child, the world's so wild
But you've built your own paradise
That's one reason why
I'll cover you, sleeping child

I'm gonna cover my sleeping child
Keep you away from the world so wild

The world plods on, continuing it's arduous journey, while I ponder the past. A letter, addressed to my Mother, may just be the most difficult endeavour. How am I to show her, with words, mere words, what childhood in her hands, growing up in her shadow has been like? How am I to describe this relationship? This tenuous, tiring - at times devastating, but persistent ... connection that we share?

There are words which should have been said years ago. Words that, now removed from the presence of circumstance or persons, bear meaning so insignificant. Words that though of negligible importance, weigh on my mind all the same.

How do I tell her, that I know now, what it feels like, in her shoes? How do I tell her, I know now, and still don't approve? How do I say everything I have in my heart, and still protect the thread that holds us?

How do I tell her, so that she will understand, that Love is something I never felt, coming from her? Love, the way I love Luka, the way I will continue to love Luka, even though it hurts, and even though it makes me cry. How do I tell her that mothers, that parents, should never let their children cry? That parents should never make their children cry? That even though it's impossible to bear the burden of a family falling apart, parents should never give their children reason to cry?

Luka didn't cry. Luka never cried. But Luka was strong; stronger than me.

How do I make her see, that children shouldn't cry? That crying should be left till we're all older. Till the world proves lacking, till we find love missing, till joy becomes fleeting? Certainly not when we're in a Peter-Pan reality, enchanted by the colours of (not the rainbow) the crayons, reassured that things will always stay the same, that nothing will ever change, that nothing will ever hurt us.

Then again, I never had the delusions of Peter Pan, never liked crayons, and always knew what hurt felt like.

Hurt. It's not physical, it's intangible. It is not measured with the depth of a gash, the amount of blood lost, the volume of a child's cry. It's inside. It's underneath all the layers of humanity, something we spend our lives hiding. It's what eats us up, eventually. It's what remains, after the wounds have healed, after the body has erased all evidence of injury, but it brings more pain than the wounds ever did.

I would take all the panadol the doctor prescribed, if it could dull this hurt inside, just one shade, except it wouldn't. There's the incessant need to keep my wounds open, keep the blood flowing, keep all the physical torture, to make it real, to match the hurt inside, to feel even slightly sane.

Sometimes, when I indulge myself with delusions, I think everything happened for a reason. That had I been smarter, colder, less idealistic, I wouldn't be what I am today. I blame myself for tearing our family apart. I blame myself for not being good enough. I imagine this is all just punishment, and that it will pass. These delusions, they're appearing more readily, and they take longer to chase away.

How am I to make her see my reasons? Why I chose to keep silent, why I chose to leave, then come back, only to leave again? How am I to convince her that maybe it's best if we went our separate ways, and left the hurt behind? How can I ever show her how it's hurting inside?

How do I tell her I always loved her, with the hope that she will one day, love me? And how do I tell her, I don't hope anymore?

I don't know how.

An angel to call my own.

2007-04-23T12:44:00.000+08:00

I'm not afraid
Of anything in this world
There's nothing you can throw at me
That I haven't already heard

I'm just trying to find
A decent melody
A song that I can sing
In my own company

~~I never thought you were a fool~~
But darling look at you
You gotta stand up straight
Carry your own weight
These tears are going nowhere baby

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And now you can't get out of it

Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

I will not forsake
The colors that you bring
The nights you filled with fireworks
They left you with nothing

I am still enchanted
By the light you brought to me
I listen through your ears
Through your eyes I can see

And you are such a fool
To worry like you do
I know it's tough
And you can never get enough
Of what you don't really need now
My, oh my

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

Oh love, look at you now
You've got yourself stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

I was unconscious, half asleep
The water is warm 'til you discover how deep
I wasn't jumping, for me it was a fall
It's a long way down to nothing at all

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

And if the night runs over
And if the day won't last
And if our way should falter
Along the stony pass

And if the night runs over
And if the day won't last
And if your way should falter
Along this stony pass

It's just a moment

This time will pass

It's all over now, and in its wake, a huge hollow. This emptiness, this nothingness, like a black hole. It eats me from inside. I don't want anything anymore. Nothing can quite compare. Shujun suggested I write a letter. One I could burn, bury, fly up to heaven, or keep. This letter will take a lifetime to write; it cannot be written.

21 April 2007.

I think I understand love now, in its purest form. But love, it's a gift. And I've given that up now. I've wrapped my love up in that blue sheet, put it into a cold metal case. I'll never find it again. But it will be safe, with him. He will cherish my love, that I couldn't show him.

I thought I would die of pain. I didn't. I think I may die of grief, but I probably won't. But I'm dead inside, all the same.

The pain began at 4, he waved goodbye at 5. I saw him at 10. I apologized. I begged for forgiveness. I asked him to come back to me, when I was ready, when I could offer him the world. I prayed for him. I told him to look for Santa Claus, and be good, be golden. I told him I loved him, but he already knew that. I studied him, he looked so peaceful. I studied his face with my nose, his arms, his hands with his father's long fingers. Then I wrapped him up, with my heart, in that blue sheet, and let them take him. I let them take my angel.

Now nothing will ever be the same again.

The skies were clear last night; the stars bright, the moon silvery. But it's raining now, and this rain, it'll never stop.

I know the way these things begin..

2007-04-11T13:20:00.000+08:00

Made myself a promise, December 18, 2006. Now it seems either way I turn, I'll break that promise, and no matter what this year brings, I'll still be a child. Fighting the urge to claim I had nothing to do with it is harder than I imagined.

It's tiring, you see. It's draining. And it's hurting. The same issues get raised, the same words are yelled, the same end is reached, and we are all wounded again. Deeper cuts, redder blood. I haven't enough grace to deal with this. I'll never.

Coming Monday, I'll be acting in my most adult capacity yet - making a choice I will never be sure of, convincing myself it is for the best, telling myself I know what I'm doing, and holding tight to that unreasonable belief, if only to live another day.

I want a child, but I question my motives. I can't even deal with myself. All their failures remind me, what if?

What if. That's scarier than we thought.

I promise to never fall in love with a stranger.

2007-02-21T20:43:00.000+08:00

Luka will be leaving in a week. It'll be a long week, but I suppose he'd be sorely missed. If only he'd have arrived a few years later. We may not be saying goodbye then.

Oh well. Another one of life's experiences. Though this one, I don't plan on having again. First and last, shall we say.

Je suis désolé, c'est pas ma faute à moi, au revoir.

-wails-

2007-02-13T01:09:00.000+08:00

Pointless post of the year. Or years.

I wanna be treated like a girly girl!

-sigh-

The sun's in the sky!

2007-02-06T15:58:00.000+08:00

So I was asking miCky to read sinfest, and she made me a counter-offer by the likes of ASofterWorld. And yes, it is worth checking out, hence this post. And if any kind soul is reading this, please post something on my flooble, else it'll expire and I'll be real sad yea?

Cheers!

i miss you.

2007-02-01T23:54:00.000+08:00

Left James Blunt on loop last night, while I slept. It was fitful at best, and left me feeling like absolute shite this morning. Doesn't help, how I was woken up - managed to roll over my phone in the night, and when someone called this morning, I felt an earthquake.

I guess it's time I run far, far away; find comfort in pain,
All pleasure's the same: it just keeps me from trouble.
Hides my true shape, like Dorian Gray.
I've heard what they say, but I'm not here for trouble.
It's more than just words: it's just tears and rain.

This year seems set to teach us the last lesson of our childhood; that adulthood ain't ever gonna be the same. I'm beginning to envy Calvin, so self-assured in his peter pan reality.

Saw a seagull outside my window a couple of weeks ago. Seagulls are a rare sight, even though I live near the sea. All my life, I've never once seen a gull on our little island. The only time I came close enough to touch them, was in New Zealand, in Kaikoura, where we were supposed to be whale watching. But something was wrong with the weather, and all the whales were heading out to the deep end of their pool, and we couldn't follow. So we sat around feeding the gulls instead. I had the prettiest daisy behind my ear, with my pants rolled up, wading in the freezing Pacific. The beach was of the finest, cleanest sand ever, and far towards the horizon, the Pacific wore a different shade - from deep, glassy blue to light clear green. The colours of that day, no one could describe them.

A seagull took me back. Took me through the years, over an entire continent, crossing vast bodies of water, to that beach, to the glaring sunshine, to the biting wind, to the little visitor booth, to the quaint little street I eventually followed on barefoot.

I think I never really understood how vast the ocean really is, when all I had was East Coast Park; too linear, and too artificial for a connection with nature. But on that beach, and many others, the ocean is enveloped in a cove. And in the distance you see nothing but water. And the occasional dolphin, seal, whale, or other sign of life. When you're faced with such majesty, it's difficult not to see God's hand in things.

Strangely enough, I thought about religion today. I made a comment about the public display of faith, and how I abhorred it. I do. Faith, religion, spirituality, whatever anyone calls it, is intensely private. It's the part of you that's tied to the universe, to your surroundings, to whatever you have no explanation for, and seek none for. It's your thoughts, your feelings, your experiences, your interpretation. How can it ever be so similar with another to be made public? Therein lies the irony. That so many would just blindly follow religion, for perhaps the wrong reasons, when religion is essentially within, not without.

Dreams, dreams of when we had just started things.

2007-01-24T00:46:00.000+08:00

It would be two years. I know the grammar sounds wrong, but it's intended. It reflects a certain state of mind. Two years. How much has transpired in this time, I don't begin to keep track of. I only know if there's one thing I will learn to regret, it's doing that one thing to you. You don't deserve it. Plenty of others do, but not you.

It's been proven our memory is selective. We remember all that was golden and paint the rest. Well you were platinum.

I went jogging today, with Littlest Things by Lily Allen on repeat. Nothing better for a rainy, cold, lonely, melancholic night.

Take care.

Caramel

2007-01-13T01:39:00.000+08:00

It won't do
to dream of caramel,
to think of cinnamon
and long for you.

It won't do
to stir a deep desire,
to fan a hidden fire
that can never burn true.

I know your name,
I know your skin,
I know the way
these things begin;

But I don't know
how I would live with myself,
what I'd forgive of myself
if you don't go.

So goodbye,
sweet appetite,
no single bite
could satisfy...

I know your name,
I know your skin,
I know the way
these things begin;

But I don't know
what I would give of myself,
how I would live with myself
if you don't go.

It won't do
to dream of caramel,
to think of cinnamon
and long
for you.

When will I finally be?

2007-01-12T02:57:00.000+08:00

There's a dull pain in the pit of my stomach, nagging, refusing to go away. Never knew they could become physical ailments, these blues. Been feeling pretty down since I got home about 5 hours ago. I think alcohol has that effect on me. It dulls the senses, allowing me the mental clarity to focus, and become acutely aware of the emotions I'm keeping just beneath the surface.

'Tis not a good feeling.

I wanna curl up in bed. I want someone with me.

Hush.

2006-12-22T02:39:00.000+08:00

Hush, don't spoil the little girl's dream.
Let her find, the world isn't as it seems.

she's on her knees, before she's on her feet

2006-12-18T12:35:00.000+08:00

There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered. - Nelson Mandela

I moved back home a couple of days ago, after the boyfriend went off to serve his country. Sigh. It's horrible having to sleep alone again.

I can't help but think it would be fun, NS. If we were all girls, that is. Like some summer camp. But I dunno, it's probably a lot tougher than the guys would like us to know. Stupid male pride.

So anyway, I thought it was inappropriate to wear shorts and slippers and what-have-you to tekong, so I stupidly wore my latest buy - a black dress. Black and white actually. Prints. Point is, it was a really really stupid decision and God only knows how many people I embarrassed myself in front of.

Honestly, I had no idea they were gonna actually make us tour Tekong. I thought we were just gonna go sit in some comfy air-conditioned place and watch them swear in or something. But NO! Trust them to come up with a truly ridiculous bus ride down TEKONG HIGHWAY to tour the facilities. (In Heels! 4-inch Stilettos!) Like I said before, very idiotic decision of mine. And we had to walk on the track and I was so so worried my heels may sink into the track and never come loose again. My mother was more worried about me damaging their property and having to pay for it. Whatever. Oh and we got to climb stairs too. And that bit was pretty hilarious. I couldn't help but notice the guys showing us around liked to crowd around the bottom of the staircases. I wonder why? I think they call it sensory deprivation. Poor starved souls, them. Didn't help that my dress was not the safest thing to wear on a particularly windy day. So I had people laughing at me when I was boarding and disembarking the ferry, when I was going up and down stairs, and just generally whenever a slightly stronger breeze came my way.

Oh and ironically, Tekong has a very very nice view. Farther away from the BMTC itself, the landscape looks almost serene, like an island paradise. but then you see all the cannons, and you realise it's nothing like what it seems. Sigh.

But, the point I was trying to make is, that it sucks to be home again. Sure I appreciate having the space to myself, and having enough privacy to do just as I want - like coming out of the shower wrapped in a towel and dripping water all the way into my room, like walking around the house in PJs till it's time to change into a fresh set and go to bed again, like sneaking up on my brother and freaking the hell out of him when I'm bored and in desperate need of entertainment, like eating in front of the tv, on my mom's bed, on my own bed, on my brother's bed, on the floor, at the dining table, or anywhere I want. But it's just not the same!

It was weird, that first day back. It's like nothing has changed, but I just didn't know where to look for the things I needed. I didn't know where the toiletries where, I didn't know where the towels were, I didn't know where my own PJs were. I had to ask for everything and that made me feel like an outsider. Oh and I still don't have bedsheets cos my Mom misplaced them and now has to search. Also, there's been a drastic change in the dynamics. The past few times I was always back with the bf, so on the surface, it's like we're a happy family again, but boy, was I in for a shock.

I need to go buy my own set of toiletries. In my absence, they've stocked up on stuff I really really don't like. Shampoo that dries out my hair, DETTOL shower foam... ew. Please give me a break. Thank God for the little tube of manuka that I kept from before I left. Makes me smell like honey!

I left a bottle of scent at the bf's so am using Pink Hearts again. It reminds me of the times with Rico though. So. Yikes. It's like how the smell in the hallway closet reminds me of MJ, and how Almond reminds me of Sec 4. Shrug. Beautiful smells that just now feel so uncomfortable.

Speaking of MJ. My mom apologized to me that day, in the car, back from Tekong. She apologized for something I've long gotten over. Or I thought I did, but it's like no matter how many times you're disappointed, you never really get used to it. And the old tears kinda just welled up again. It's sad, really, what might have been had she found that little bit more faith in me. Apparently, her friend finally talked her round, indirectly, and unintentionally. See, her friend voiced the same views that I had expressed nearly three years ago. For some reason, it was unbelievable then, but not so absurd to her now.

I don't resent her for it, really, not anymore. It just makes me wonder why, and what I did, that could have had that profound, damaging, effect on our trust. Trust is so very important.

Still if I hadn't come this way, I would have missed out on some truly life altering experiences and enlightening moments, and honestly, I feel I'm a better person now because of all I've been through. Regardless if there was such an intention in the first place.

So all in all, it's just another year in the 19 to my name. In less than two weeks, it'll be my 20th. There's a mix of dread and eager anticipation. I don't know what lies after that threshold. I don't even know what I'll be doing six months from now. But this time, I know it'll be something I'm not going to regret. That's my promise to myself, on the brink of the twenties. And that's one of them that I'm planning to keep.

Nothing endures but change.

2006-12-04T23:51:00.000+08:00

And so it is, that my familiar friend has come to settle upon me, once again. Silently arriving on Winter's breath, with season's greetings. A wish, if I may, for tomorrow.

Half a year. Gone, like sand in the hands of an eager child desperate to hold on to that beautiful thing she did not yet understand - flowing faster, everytime she tightened her grasp.

I'm moving back home in a couple of weeks. Spent the weekend painting my room a new shade of green, in the hope that it may calm frayed nerves and soothe old wounds. Fact is, perhaps we needed that paint. Not the dusty corners, the walls with its spidery cracks, the house - but the family it has sheltered for the past decade.

Yes. Perhaps it is exactly what we need.

He Loves Me!

2006-11-03T15:18:00.000+08:00

Aww..I love him too~

Then you go and spoil it all by saying something stupid, like, I Love You.

2006-10-29T04:16:00.000+08:00

There are moments in life when you miss someone so much that you want to pick them from your dreams and hug them.
Dream what you want to dream; Go where you want to go; Be what you want to be; Cos you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do.
Enough sorrow to keep you human, enough hope to make you happy.
The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way.

I think this is what you wanted to say. I got the message. Thanks.

I keep a rabbit's tail.

2006-09-04T05:04:00.000+08:00

The sharp pain and loneliness hit hard, in the silent hours before dawn.

I want to sit in a corner and cry till my Mommy comes get me. I want my bear, the one that's still sitting in its pretty box, collecting dust on my shelf. I want my big thick comforter, the one I hide under on rainy nights. I want my bolster, the one that ends up on the floor most often than not. I want my spot on the worn, sagging couch, even if my back hurts after a while. I want my books, notes, memorabilia, and all the dust caught between the pages. I want my memories, those that surface only when the world is turned, and no one's looking in this direction.

I want my childhood. I want my innocence. I want that little tiny bit of me I left behind, when I took the last step out the door.

I want life to go back to before I found my mom, drunk and unconscious. Before my father walked out. Before I filled up to the brim with desperation and fled.

I want to go home. But I fear I know no home anymore.

There must be some grace in the touch of your face.

2006-08-15T19:59:00.000+08:00

My sweet embrace, but no more.

Love me love me
Say that you love me
Fool me fool me
Go on and fool me
Love me love me
Pretend that you love me
Leave me leave me
Just say that you need me

I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call.
But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you.
Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

If the world ends tomorrow, at least I'll know I've said all that I can
Time to move on.

It is some coldness in us all.

2006-08-05T20:01:00.000+08:00

"Don't do this to me."

Searching the eyes, she found the same, relentless anger burning, but there was something else. Something different. Something that told of... She struggled to place her finger on it, to identify the difference. It was emptiness. No, blindness.

Tearing her eyes away from those so indifferently staring back at her, she let her mind revisit the years gone past. There was something in those eyes that she reluctantly recognized, that she helplessly feared. It caused the familiar tingle deep in her soul, the only touch of life she'd felt since... since a time beyond the reaches of her memory.

Was it hate? No. They didn't burn as brightly nor did she catch the glint of menace she'd grown to expect. Could it be boredom, with life, with its worthless occupants perhaps? Still, there was the cloudiness. What could possibly cause that?

Glancing back at those eyes again, carelessly, casually, uncaringly, she found something had lifted. She found sudden vacuum. Twin abysses. Black holes that drew one in, with a force as yet unmatched. Then they closed in on themselves, and shut out the rest of the world that would never be privileged enough to gain a peek into their world.

When they opened once again after what seemed a lifetime of pauses, she searched, valiantly, for that which had so devoured her attention and confused her.

Yet all there remained, a single tear, blackened, reddened, a stain on pristine porcelain. And there, on a single forlorn strand, wrenched, abandoned, she found her answer.

It is just low-life, some coldness in us all, some helplessness that causes us to misunderstand life when it is pure and plain, makes our existence seem like a border between two nothings, and makes us no more or less than animals who meet on the road - watchful, unforgiving, without patience or desire.

And when the stars fall I will lie awake.

2006-07-23T18:07:00.000+08:00

Right now, nothing, nothing, says it better than Michelle Branch.

you're my shooting star

Could you take my picture; cos I won't remember

2006-07-08T20:26:00.000+08:00

Just found out last night that I've been tagged by Mich, a long long time ago. So here it is. Twenty little nuggets of info about me.

1. I don't live at home, but I wish I could.
2. Most of the time, I'm not cynical and depressed.
3. I prefer having friends of the opposite sex cos they're easier to talk to.
4. Incompetency pisses me off, big time. (So does broken english, one track minds, stubbornly traditional fogies and the educational system.. Just to name a few.)
5. I actually don't have much to complain about.
6. My mom taught me about the birds and the bees when I was 2.
7. My mind is clearest when I'm in a funk.
8. I'd rather be alone, than sit next to a loved one and feel lonely.
9. I don't much fancy the term "attached".
10. Little Mermaid is still my favorite story.
11. The Disney cast turns me off. Warner Bros over Mickey's cronies, any day.
12. I think I'm too soft-hearted.
13. I can just about count the number of friends I have with one hand.
14. Life took a turn down the wrong lane the year I turned 10.
15. I get angry over the littlest things, and I don't know why.
16. I have wide and varied interests.
17. Good first impressions don't score much with me.
18. I usually avoid confrontations. When I'm angry I stop talking and keep to myself.
19. Globe trotting comes to mind before any other ambition.
20. I only feel free when I'm out of the country.

There. I realise I could go on, but..nah. Tata~

Last night I think I dreamt a beautiful song

2006-07-06T22:31:00.000+08:00

But when I woke the birds had flown and it was gone

It shouldn't still affect me the way it does. But we all know I hold on to the past for dear life, don't we. I didn't dream a beautiful song last night. I wish I did. Instead, I lay awake in the sterile cot set out for me in the midst of tired souls. With an IV in the back of my left hand, a pillow under my feet and the stark white ceiling returning my unwavering gaze.

In Royston Tan's words, 4:30 a.m. is the scariest, loneliest time. 2 a.m. is just about as bad. So is any other time, any other second spent valiantly trying to patch that gaping void.

Can't say I don't know what's going on in my life right now. I'm old enough to know I shouldn't be running anymore. What do you do when banging your head time and again against the same solid brick does nothing but make you bleed? What do you do when that strange innocent belief that the brick will some day give way, itself gives way instead?

I originally typed a whole paragraph of cliches. Cliches seem to be the only way to describe emotions indescribable.

He says his motivation in life and support pillar have both disappeared. My safety bubble, my north star, they're gone too. Perhaps the couples have eloped.

You took my love for granted. Why? The show is over; Say goodbye.

This time it wasn't indifference. Perhaps it was the same solid brick. One I could find no fault in, one I had no way to crack. One that refused to give way, to surrender and reciprocate.

I want to believe you, but it's difficult. So many things don't make sense. I wonder if it was a lie from the beginning; all those rough patches that went unexplained. I wonder if you ever knew. I wonder if you ever understood. I wonder, mostly, if it was ever intentional.

I'll pack you up in a pretty box, put you away in a corner, till time passes and dust collects and maturity lifts my rose-tinted glasses; till naivety gives way to disillusionment; till i can face this with my poker face and find my emotions separate from my memories.

Till a time I can say, perhaps to an unworthy audience, that I loved you but never will again.

24 Jan 2005

2006-06-03T12:06:00.000+08:00

We have shared our morning days
And gone through all rainy nights
Even in the darkest of nights
Stars still light up our way
Tomorrow is a beautiful dream
A dream that will be fulfilled
Cross the bridge of rainbow
In search of the hope

Farewell then. Thank you for the memorable times.

Maybe our paths will meet someday, somewhere, sometime. But I have my rainbows waiting; you have your hills to climb. I am sorry.

Someday, somewhere, somehow.

2006-05-12T02:39:00.000+08:00

It's amazing how the initially gradual slip escalates rapidly into a full fledged race headed straight for the deepest pits. I feel the signs. I can see it coming. Still, there's nothing I can do about it.

I'm out of the running. That much has been decided. Feeling pretty sore about it, but there's nothing I can do about it, not anymore.

Talked to a few people, but have only the slightest clue as to how things turned out so horridly wrong.

Didn't think it mattered that much anyway. I feel like a clown. A fool. The joke of the year.

On a slightly different note, I absolutely loathe hypocrites. It hurts to find out exactly what happens behind your back. Then again, you never can know for sure, can you.

There's always somebody lying to you. That's the one thing you can always be sure about. There is always somebody lying to you. But you never know who.

Pity, those who died without a name.

2006-04-30T22:44:00.000+08:00

I have ...

damaged hair
broken nails
bruised knuckles
scraped knee
cramps
lousy eyesight
headaches

I have to ...

find a job
finish my presentation for tuesday
think of a campaign
prepare for mock trials
lose weight
buy new clothes
buy new heels
buy contacts
tidy up my room
get my license

I have not ...

got enough money
got enough time
got enough friends
got enough brains

Oh my life sucks. Haha. But seriously, that presentation is driving my absolutely bonkers. I see only negligible relevance, and it's all third year stuff anyway. WHYYYY. People are getting simple easy to do topics like pollution and I get GLOBALIZATION, INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY, BANKING AND FINANCE?!

what the ..

Okay enough time has lapsed for me to calm down enough to type properly. I just read Wikipedia's page on TJ though. And I'm not too happy.

And now I am all too distracted to continue, so tata!

2006-04-11T22:49:00.000+08:00

You shouldn't be scared. You're at home.

So simple. So understated. So mistaken.

2006-04-09T10:12:00.000+08:00

so cute.

Glass petals

2006-03-26T15:45:00.000+08:00

Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.

You never understand how destructive blogs can be, till a loved one starts putting everything they can never tell you, into one. It freaking hurts to read blogs, sometimes.

School starts, for me, tomorrow. It feels almost like two years ago, when we were all plunging ourselves into what we knew nothing, or little of. Yet this time, the fairytale haze no longer surrounds the dream. I see it - all its harsh lines and sterile lights.

My brains have gone rusty. My pens have mostly dried up. My papers have yellowed. My bag has faded. Almost everything from the past two years has been removed from the house. My furniture is gone, I have a new set. My books, notes, material, have all vanished. All that's left, sits in a box, hidden in a corner, and I never notice it.

I hope this year goes well. Cause if it doesn't, that's the end of trying.

This year, I have a gold bag, no school uniform, and ... purple red orange brown and black hair. But most importantly, I have an amazing support system that girls all around the world are using. It runs free of electricity, and comes with a lifetime warranty. It also takes me on holidays. So perhaps this year will be different.

After all, my entries are beginning to read like Sweet Valley synopses.

2006-03-22T12:23:00.000+08:00

To anyone who still reads this.. please go to http://kevan.org/nohari?name=AnRu and http://kevan.org/johari?name=AnRu.

Thanks. Hee.

I'm leaving on a jet plane!

2006-03-03T12:01:00.000+08:00

I'M GOING TO BANGKOK!

Whee. Haha. At the airport now with the boyfriend waiting to get on the plane. Didn't know they had these free internet access thingys right outside the boarding gate. Pretty cool eh.

Oh. Note to anyone who needs to change money. You can do so at the airport. The exchange rate a little tiny bit higher here. Wheewhee. (=

I dunno why my text just changed color, and I'm not exactly sure what color it's supposed to be, so I'm just gonna leave it. Heehee.

Hyper.

Sick. I just saw a guy wearing an NUS blazer, and TJ pants. Can we all spell S-I-C-K?

Aaaanyway.

Happy 19th, Kit!! If you still read this, that is. Enjoy~

we shared a moment that will last till the end

2006-01-23T23:20:00.000+08:00

Quote.

he is so different it'll probably take tons of getting used to. but i'm just glad for any kind of distraction life can throw at me right now. and this is one damn nice distraction, if maybe a little insecure and little cynical and a little depressed. sounds like i'm talking about me. oh well.

"rico will you be my girlfriend!!!"
"you know you want to!"

lol.

Unquote.

I'm glad I gave it a shot. I'm glad we both took the risk. Very glad.

Love ya darling. Happy anniversary (=

Let it be

2006-01-09T09:23:00.000+08:00

And it means that sometimes, a whole population of frogs, or people, can die for no reason whatsoever, just because that is the way the numbers work.

A strange dream, set in the horridness of TJ, but in RG grounds. I sat beside siewlee and asked where the CT was. Miss Ho, in this case, or so I hear. Finding her, I get to the point and (I am not proud of this part) ask if there was no chance I could go back, just to get three A Level Credits. She basically told me to stuff it.

So yea.

There you go.

Been reading my kid brother's literature texts. Quite amusing, in a depressing sort of way. I don't know why the school's asking them to read pieces capable of disillusionment. Though I guess any book worth reading is going to disillusion you somewhat, somehow.

And I had a lot more to say, but the mention of breakfast has distracted me some (ok a lot) and so now I have to go.

Till next time.

2005

2005-12-31T19:48:00.000+08:00

There's a curious emotion attached to this year.

And there just seems no other way to put it.

Given another chance, I wouldn't live through this again. But this has been a year full of new experiences, keeping me on edge almost constantly. I wonder if that's what I really was after, this sense of youthfulness that activity brings.

I've given up a lot, I think, and I haven't quite learnt not to regret, but this year's taught me things I can't put in words. Things I don't ever wish to, really. They're just too personal.

Can't say it's been the best year. Can't even confidently say it's been good. But it's been bearable anyhow.

Thanks darling, you're wonderful. Even if you are working on new year's eve, instead of partying the night away with me. Yet like I said, I'd rather miss you a couple of days a year, than see you only on those couple of special occasions. And again, I love you.

Byebye 2005. You'd best be gone. Now go. Quick. Shoo.

We will find our right to be.

2005-12-11T12:31:00.000+08:00

I...read something. And now have something to say, but no way to say it. Or rather, no wish to put it in easily comprehensible terms. Either way, it just means I'm depressed again.

Yes. The same old things, the "could have been"s and the "should have been"s.

That makes this a typical day then.

Until then lilacs bloom every spring.

And she's about to see.

2005-11-22T08:36:00.000+08:00

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.

2005-11-17T14:46:00.000+08:00

I find I seek to die. And seeking death, find life.

2005-11-11T17:12:00.000+08:00

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.

When will that be?

2005-11-07T20:45:00.000+08:00

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.

A cold wind blowing

2005-11-01T20:36:00.000+08:00

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.

One too many

2005-10-28T23:23:00.000+08:00

Fired my boss on my first day at work.

Thinking about things not much compatible with my age.

I can't say much. I need some privacy to sort out my thoughts, to put them in words, and to put it in here.

I might start keeping a journal, and shut this down instead. No more computer, no more internet for me. And no money.

I need to find another job soon.

And figure out what else needs to happen after that.

In the time of the butterflies.

2005-10-15T19:29:00.000+08:00

Received 28 September 2005, from the only person who'd give me a sunflower.

I love you.

The wisdom of a fool won't set you free.

2005-10-15T11:34:00.000+08:00

I shan't bother with verbal sparring.

Friends come and go. It's not advisable to take them too seriously. One day, perhaps sooner than you realize, they'd turn right around and stick one in your back.

Sure, friends are supposed to say all the things you never want to listen to. Still, it's supposed to bear at least some truth.

Else, it's needless criticism that I won't acknowledge with a response.

Other than that, Life's been treating me well.

They didn't mean a thing

2005-09-27T17:18:00.001+08:00

It suddenly struck me that I'll be flying off at approximately the same time as last year. If I do.

I feel like I've been taken for a ride. A long journey roundabout, coming back to the same point, over and over.

They won't be getting the divorce after all. I won't be going home. I won't be staying around either. So it's either going overseas, or moving out on my own.

I wonder how I'm going to return and take my 'A's, if I take up the offer and fly away from here.

It makes sense to leave everything, and restart. But it also seems ridiculously childish and escapist. Something I don't think I can afford.

I don't know why I'm the one moving out. I don't know why I have a home I can't return to.

It's unfair to lose my temper at everyone who's helping me. But...what is help?

I don't even know what's good for me anymore.

And what's going to happen to my birthday? I have no intention of spending my 18th in isolation.

Jesus Horace Christ.

2005-09-22T14:05:00.000+08:00

I am SO damn irritated. Four teachers have asked to see me today. Apparently they're all concerned, but honestly. Laying off my case will do a lot more than a stupid shower of concern. Ng, Wong, Wee and Veera.

Seems like no one knows what's going on except for the P and Thelma. Suspicious, to say the least. The very very least. None of my tutors knows what's going on, not even my CT. And I never heard anything about my mom signing any withdrawal form till today.

Damn fishy, I tell you.

And Thelma! Oh goodness. The only reason Singapore doesn't sell guns, is to prevent people like me, from killing people like her. Seriously.

Argh I am too damn irritated to blog. Will update again. Maybe tomorrow. Having PW now. No idea what I'm supposed to be doing, but there's a computer in front of me. Go figure.

Oh and it turns out that I haven't exactly missed anything for lit since Handmaid's Tale won't be tested for this year. And Measure for Measure's likely to be left out too. So yay.

And bye-bye to Math.

For the last time, I AM DROPPING MATHS!!

Yippee.

Melt it all down till it's nothing recognizable. Convince me it's something else.

2005-09-21T09:07:00.000+08:00

You're a very sensitive soul.
You haven't grown that thick skin that most adults have.
Easily hurt, you tend to retreat to your comfort zone.
You don't let many people in - unless you've trusted them for a long time.

Certain unforseen circumstances have thrown me right back into the horrific education system, where I am, as we speak (or type), drifting aimlessly in, waiting for a lifesaver.

In the time since I have last came online, I've returned to school and moved out of home.

They're getting a divorce. It's finally final. I don't find it funny. But I'm not exactly devastated either. They seem to enjoy hurting each other. I just don't understand why they'd let us get injured in the brawl too.

Let's just say it was all a storm 20 years in the making. I hope it blows over soon. I just want my life to go back to normal. I appreciate Jamie sacrificing her privacy and putting up with me, but I do sorely need my own space. Even if that space says very little about me, even if it doesn't have anything. I just need my space. Space, to just..shed everything.

That sounded pretty grotesque.

So yes. I can't go home. I'm going to lose the only room I ever had. I'm going to fail my exams. And by this time next year, I will have no father, and no money to my name. Hallelujah. Someone please come along and adopt me please. Better yet if you're King of some mysterious, exotic isle. Whatever.

Everything I took for granted is about to come slamming into my face. I will not pretend to enjoy it.

I agreed to give education one more chance, but like what I told Jackson, the more education you receive (as if it was a gift in the first place), the more likely you are to end up working for someone.

I'd much rather spend my years exploring life, then sit in some stuffy, about-to-collapse building learning things that are not in the least bit important to me. Endure barely concealed irritation/disgust/contempt.

Yes, you may say that it is something I have to put up with if I want to get anywhere in life, at all. Yet, after this dramatic change in events, I seem to loathe it even more.

Lessons with teachers who had a passion for teaching, who knew what they were doing, who came into the profession hoping to touch souls and nuture, to share a little bit of their wisdom, to open our eyes to something wonderous that we on our own would take years to glimpse (and even then, may not understand) and gain satisfaction from it, rather than earn a meagre wage. That used to make it all better, all bearable for me. Now it grates on my last few remaining nerves, like a rodent. Unrelenting, as if its very life depended on it. Passion for life irks me. For so many don't understand it.

I do hate school. With every last strand of my being, I do abhor it. Not simply for the uniform and the god forsaken location and the hazardous building. But for all it's resulted in. Education has fooled me, then allowed me to catch a fleeting glimpse of something larger than life, finally robbing my sight.

I don't understand how some people, how so many people, can be blissful in their ignorance (as I am sure many would say of me), content to keep going, doing what they've always been told to do. It's inherent, it's inbred, and they do not learn to question.

I once said that anything worth doing, is worth doing well. I still stand by that. Sadly, school just doesn't fall into that category anymore. I will make it through this year. Or I will die trying. If only to restore some semblance of normalcy into whatever family life is left. My Mom does not want to worry about me. Neither does anyone, really. And likewise.

Come next year...I don't know. I've already moved out. I guess it's the go ahead. For me to take over, take charge of my life. Do what I want. And I never want to lead their life again.

I want a new beginning. I don't know why I keep saying it, yet clinging on. I don't want to let go of the only thing that I have ever known, though I know that I will have to, sooner or later. I'd just rather it be later.

I grew up listening to their fights. I stayed awake countless nights listening to things getting flung around, things breaking, people shouting, people crying. I grew up listening to it all. To violence. There's nothing like it to destroy a life.

And I've had enough of it. I'm not a violent person. Regardless of all the stupid things I do, I know that deep down inside, I just want peace. I've ignored a tiny voice for a long time. Too long a time, it seems. And now it seems that everytime I ignore it, it just grows a little louder. Until it's all I hear, until it's filled my head, until there's no way I can ignore it anymore.

No. It's not a voice. It..It's a feeling that I cannot quite describe. It's not conscience. It's just something I know. Times like these, I might even begin to believe in a God.

Looking back, I realize I always knew I'd come to this..juncture. I don't know why I've failed to prepare myself for this.

Maybe somehow I still hold on to hope? Then why do I feel so hopeless. It's all contradictory. Nothing makes sense to me anymore.

I remember saying last year that shattered glass is pretty.

We grow up thinking, wishing, expecting everything to be perfect. When it isn't, we refuse to have anything to do with it. When we were young, we looked for the perfect shell, tried to draw the perfect star, had the perfect dream of the future. But as we grow older, some find beauty in imperfection, some continue living illusions.

I seem to straddle the two worlds. I find beauty in imperfection. Lots of it. I don't just like shattered glass, I seem to have a penchant for anything battered and broken. Not anything destroyed or dead, mind you. There's a strength that emanates from something weakened, but not defeated. Out of weakness, comes strength. How ironic.

I don't know what I'm rambling on about, I don't know what I'm trying to say.

I'm confused and thinking about this isn't making it any easier to understand. I'm thinking myself into a dead end. What was I saying before?

I don't want to bring it all to court, though I will, if I have to.

He who knows most, is oddly as far away as possible now. I don't want to relive it all for someone who has no clue, for someone who has no chance of understanding. I don't want to talk to someone who's going to take a totally clinical view of everything I say and categorize me, giving me the medicine deemed suitable.

I seem to have no one. In an ocean of people, you walk alone.

You know it's not easy.

2005-09-17T19:44:00.000+08:00

We try, our lives away, then stumble to the grave. We try, but still they say, the past won't go away.

They left you with nothing.

2005-09-13T12:28:00.000+08:00

I don't know what to say. I guess this time it's final. My mom's got an appointment with the P for tomorrow morning. I don't want to be there.

Spent nearly 5 hours last night in paralysis. All I could feel was my scalp crawling with numbness, and the blanket like lead on my wasted legs.

Then I lay awake as the sun rose, hoping against hope that I'd never see it again.

You might think this the easy way out. You might think I'm running away. What if you saw it like me, that it was a losing battle? Wouldn't you cut your losses. You may think I don't know who I am, what I want to be. But I'll tell you that I know what I don't want to be. And that is to be yet another victim of the system. To be blinded, deafened and numb by what we've been told, in the pursuit of the Singaporean Dream.

In short, I quit. I'm only 18 once and 17 is a bad enough year. Call this anything you will - running away, hiding, refusing to face reality. Fine. That's all true, then. And while I'm at it, I may as well proclaim myself a coward, an idealist, a dreamer, and anything else anyone might care to add. I welcome it.

Say I'm afraid of the expectations I impose on myself. Say I don't know.

And I haven't the ability to convince you otherwise. All I can say is, this is the only way I see now. I could trundle along merrily with you down the path of guaranteed success and find myself broken and bound. Or I could choose to break my own bones taking a plunge like this, but coming out from it knowing I tried to save myself.

None of that makes sense to you, I know. And it would never have made sense to me before. You've got to live it to know it. I don't hope to change anyone's perception of this, but at least, respect my decision.

I have a right to live. And a right to choose my own torture.

If I have to be sane but unhappy, so be it. At least then I can have fun thinking about all the ways I went wrong.

One thing that I will never allow to happen to me, is to lose my mind. Because it is all I have. All I ever will have.

And going down this road leads to nothing but insanity. I've lost it more times in these past couple of days than I ever have, and ever hope to, again.

When will you believe me when I say that it'll never work out? When I finally do something out of sheer mania?

I don't want that to happen.

When all I have left are lousy options, all I can do is pick one and hope it wasn't the worst of the lot.

Maybe some day you will learn to understand that.

Long ago, I lost my soul to some forgotten dream. And how was I supposed to know, it wasn't what it seemed.

2005-09-12T18:40:00.000+08:00

i am a competitor. i am an egoist. i had a dream once. a long time ago. and it faded for some time. but last friday, it seemed there was a chance the dream might be realised. i know now that i was still dreaming.

Written sometime in June 2003. That's about when the depression started, I guess. Can't trace it any further back cos there isn't any record.

Spending a lot more time being holed up in my room these days. I rise early and sleep late. I wonder about nothing at all. I stare at the ceiling in mute horror. I play songs without hearing. I do things without knowing.

My room is filling with the smell of blood. If I shut my eyes I can just imagine someone being hacked into itty bitty pieces in this supposedly safe haven of mine.

Spent today in a daze again. Been thinking of and dreaming of things past and present. It's almost as if my mind is on playback, preparing for what might or might not happen. I dreamt of Vaish and Dell, two very unlikely characters to appear in my dreams. I dreamt of Denise, saying in an aristocratic voice "drinking Milo and little obscenities like that". I dreamt of Hunter asking where I've been hiding at. I dreamt of the 410 classroom. I dreamt of Mrs Chew.

Rico asked to see my childhood photos out of the blue, a couple of days ago. So I sieved through all that I had and picked two albums. From the times when my Mom would cuddle me and kiss me and tell me she loved me. From when she'd hold me till the storm passed. From when she'd tell me everything was going to turn out fine. From when she ... wanted me. From when I had not a care in the world. From when I thought my Dad was God and my Mom an angel. From when rabbits had names and everyone had smiles.

Seal cries out in a voice tearing with emotion "believe me".

Don't beg, don't pray.

I grew up, that much is apparent. But do we really have to lose all that, chasing someone we may never become? Michelle once asked why I chose to give up something I had, for something in the future that may or may not happen. How was I to know how things would change?

You can get what you want, or you can just get old.

I really have no idea what I'm chasing anymore. It might be there, just out of sight. Or it may never have existed at all. I'm not sure I really want to find out. The only thing that's keeping me going is my little support group and him. He's been a great pillar of strength and to some extent, provider of wisdom and maturity. Yet, after all that has passed last year, I can't help but wonder if it'll all end the same way, if he'd really be happier without me. If everyone would be happier if I just disappear.

I don't wanna start over again. I just want my life to be the same, just like it used to be. Somedays I hate everything. I hate everything. Everyone and everything. Please don't tell me everything is wonderful now.

My playlist is telling my life story.

The nights you filled with fireworks, they left you with nothing.
It's a long way down to nothing at all.

I'd drown if I stay here.

By the way, I tried to say, I know you, from before.

My Dad just knocked and left dinner outside my door. Guess it's pretty much understood that I'm never coming out and never speaking to anyone. Which brings me back to So Much To Tell You and Marina. I still can't figure out what really happened to her.

I know I'll regret any move I make. But right now, anything seems better in comparison to the present... state.

Please stop explaining.

2005-09-10T23:52:00.000+08:00

Swing down. Way down.

Just a record. Only because I'm supposed to keep one from now on. Attempted to draw one of those squiggly graphs (like the sin curve) in paint, but failed horribly.

Come and stop the rain

Will blog more when I'm feeling more inspired. Meanwhile, here's a picture, in place of a thousand words.

All the intensity of emotion, focused on the single tip. Of something fragile, something broken.

Another perfect day.

2005-09-07T00:49:00.000+08:00

FLOWERS! From the darling. Hee.

Some things I should have run from.

2005-09-01T21:49:00.000+08:00

It's one of those days when I have lots to say. But am not quite sure if I'll see it through to the end.

Made quite a few discoveries today.

First and foremost, after all that my Dad has done, I still prefer him to my mom. Yes, I'm calling him Dad. And I'll call him papa too. I'm over it. Completely. I realize that he is truly sorry and attempting to make up for it. Previously, he steered clear of my mom when she was in one of her murderous moods. Now, he braves hell's fury to defend me when she's being unreasonable. People make mistakes. Some learn from them. I believe he's one of them. It's unfair for her to use it against him everytime some small argument pops up. After all, it didn't happen to her. If anyone ought to bring it up, it would be me. But I won't. Not anymore. I love my Dad.

Secondly, (actually, screw the numbering.) Eddison says I'll make a fine lawyer. According to him, I'm all talk and no thought. And I'm feisty. That's twice in two days that the word's been used to describe me. Basically I'd make a great lawyer, probably because I'm coldly rational. I look only at the surface, base my thoughts on hard evidence, without exploring their further significance. Which may or may not be true, I haven't quite decided.

I kill with my words, according to Jamie. And if I were a guy, she'd marry me. It's entertaining for her to watch me shoot people with my sarcasm. Especially when she's in IRC, desperate to hook up with some guy. Along comes the protective lesbian partner and screens. Haha. I'd do everything to flatten someone's ego. Which is admittedly nasty, but..fun. I am fully aware of what that says about my character, but it honestly doesn't matter much to me. I've degraded morally anyway.

Lastly, and most irrelevant of all, I'm not a B. Haha. Jamie says she can finally be proud of being a B. Don't ask me why I'm announcing to the whole world but it is, at the same time, fascinating and embarrassing for me to find out about this. I'm C. The horror, the horror! This time last year, I was A!! Looks like I got my mom's genes after all.

Okay after all that rather light-hearted chatter, I'm getting down to the important part.

Sometime in the late afternoon, I decided that the only reason I'm having trouble in school, is because of family problems. I know that sounds like I'm shoving the blame everywhere else but here. And I honestly don't know if that's it, but I don't think so. Environment does matter. would never have been caught dead saying that. I always thought environment only affected the weak. But it's true. Or maybe I'm just weak.

This afternoon when my parents started their usual brawl again, Jamie commented that it never happens in her home. I caught myself wondering what it'd be like, a home without violent words, without intention to harm. I don't want my family anymore. I've never felt quite so strongly about this. When Yee Han used to comment on my family being close-knit and all, I always scoffed and thought "if only you knew". But now I know. That there will never come the day when I learn to appreciate my family. I'm not filial, I know. But then again, there never was much of a family to speak of.

We only have one photo with all five of us in it. Taken when I was ten. Before it all started disintegrating, before I grew up. But I swear, it was fake. I remember getting into a fight before that photo was taken. They had to put concealer on me to cover the red blotches.

I grew up in a warzone. It's no wonder I turned out this way. My personality profile describes me as a potential terrorist. I have all the right characteristics, apparently. I'd make the perfect terrorist. I'm an extremist. I'm quick to anger. I'm passionate about that which I believe in. Passion without reason, is what makes killers.

I'm pretty screwed up, don't you think. And I'm not the kind for flings, that much is true. I'm not emotionally detached enough. I keep thinking I am, but I really am not.

I want to move out. I want to move away. I want to grow up. But I want to 18 forever. It's a good age. I'm not too old to have fun, but not too young to be oblivious either. There's an intensity to everything that I will never experience again. I want to turn 18 and never a day older. Or maybe 21. I dunno. I'm not there yet. I want a life of my own. I want to erase my past.

I got the sudden urge to clear my MSN list today. And I think I cleared about 20 people. I wanted to delete the entire list, change my mail address or something. But then I realized the amount of work that would include, and I decided against it. I want a clean break from the past. I want to get away from it all. I've had enough with this. I don't see the point of holding on to something that has been breaking down for the last 20 years.

She married to get away from her family. She didn't particularly care who she married. As long as she could lead a relatively comfortable, worry-free life. She didn't care that she didn't love him. She didn't care there was someone else in love with her. She didn't care much about anything, except to get as far away as possible from everything that was holding her back.

He married for someone to come home to. He married to have somebody keep his nest cozy and warm.

Such different people. Such different lives they could have led.

I'm scared.

2005-08-30T22:44:00.000+08:00

I think I thought I saw you try, but that was just a dream.

Kae: how could this happen to me!~? says:
-shrug-
Kae: how could this happen to me!~? says:
alittle weird today you
and you can't bear the pain. says:
why do you say so.
Kae: how could this happen to me!~? says:
its as if you dislike yourself in someway

Someone's finally hit the nail on the head. That is exactly what I've been feeling. Like I loathe being who I am. And after some careful introspection, I've realized that (shock and horror) it is true.

I'm likely to get banned from promos because I don't have 90% attendance. Which effectively means that I have wasted two years of my precious youth, doing something I abhor, and gotten nothing as a result.

Strange enough, I don't care much.

So I'm going to be booted out of school and probably out of the house too, but somehow, it doesn't matter to me. Not anymore. I remember the times when I used to care so much about grades. Last year, with all my big dreams. Seems really far away now.

I'm depressed and I'm annoyed. Depression isn't a weakness, it's an illness. All Bullshit.

I'm weak. And wooden. And weak.

The symmetry you find calms your bruised sensibilities.

2005-08-29T22:11:00.000+08:00

I take almost morbid pleasure in reading my astrology profile. I'm not particularly narcissistic or anything, but I have to say Scorpios are fascinating.

Anyway. Work's piling up. Everyone's in a variation of depression. Those who aren't, are in denial.

Shit I hate school. Yes yes I know that at the end of the day the process really doesn't matter, as long as you get the results. But bloody hell, I can't help being the way I am.

Ironic enough, I love life too much to be satisfied with...this.

I really can't stand myself half the time. When I'm not too busy worshipping myself, that is. See, that's another thing that annoys the hell out of me.

Teachers' Day's coming up round the corner. I remember this time last year. When I emailed Chew and she asked if I wanted to meet up to discuss my...options.

I guess I never really appreciated all I had. I think I did, sometimes, but just..I don't know. What is considered appreciation anyway? One can never appreciate enough.

I don't know what I'm going on about. I'm depressed. I think I think too much. Or maybe not enough. Maybe I'm just going around in circles. Whatever. I think I'm going stark raving mad.

Tried to watch Othello today, but there was too much movement, too much explicit intimacy. It was too loud, too in-your-face. Kind of like Romeo and Juliet, but they didn't even bother keeping the plot.

Sigh. Waste of good time.

I hate long fragmented entries. They represent a crumbling mind. My crumbling mind. Yes, I'm falling to pieces.

And no one's around to pick me up.

I hate self pity. Isn't it totally disgusting. I like being mean. I like sarcasm. I like putting people down. I guess that makes me pretty nasty. But hey, I'm alright with being nasty. I'd rather be nasty than nice, if that's what keeps me from being trampled all over.

I don't know what I'm saying. I guess I'll stop here.

I guess we'll keep this all to ourselves.

2005-08-27T11:44:00.000+08:00

Falling

Falling dreams are another theme that is quite common in the world of dreams. Contrary to a popular myth, you will not actually die if you do not wake up before your hit the ground during a fall.

As with most common dream themes, falling is an indication of insecurities, instabilities, and anxieties. You are feeling overwhelmed and out of control in some situation in your waking life. This may reflect the way you feel in your relationship or in your work environment. You have lost your foothold and can not hang on or keep up with the hustle and bustle of daily life. When you fall, there is nothing that you can hold on to. You more or less are forced toward this downward motion without any control. This lost of control may parallel a waking situation in your life.

Falling dreams also often reflect a sense of failure or inferiority in some circumstance or situation. It may be the fear of failing in your job/school, loss of status, or failure in love. You feel shameful and lack a sense of pride. You are unable to keep up with the status quo or that you don't measure up.

According to Freudian theory, dreams of falling indicate that you are contemplating giving into a sexual urge or impulse. You maybe lacking indiscretion.

Falling dreams typically occur during the first stage of sleep. Dreams in this stage are often accompanied by muscle spasms of the arms, legs, and the whole body. These sudden contractions, also known as myclonic jerks. Sometimes when we have these falling dreams, we feel our whole body jerk or twitch and we awaken from this jerk. It is thought that this jerking action is part of an arousal mechanism that allows the sleeper to awaken and become quickly alert and responsive to possible threats in the environment.

According to biblical interpretations, dreams about falling have a negative overtone and suggest that man is acting and walking according to his own way of thinking and not those of the Lord.

Swan

To see a swan in a lake or pond, is a good omen, signaling a future of prestige and wealth. Swans are symbolic of grace, beauty, and dignity.

Cut

To dream that you have a cut, suggests that you are being let down or being undermined. Alternatively, it refers to feminine sexuality and feminine attitudes toward sex. In particular, if the cuts are on your legs, then it symbolizes an imbalance. You are unable to stand up for yourself.

To dream that you are cutting yourself, indicates that you are experiencing some overwhelming turmoil or problems in your waking life. You are trying to disconnect yourself from the unbearable pain you are experiencing.

Ballet

To dream that you are watching a ballet, symbolizes balance, cooperation, and harmony.

To see or wear ballet slippers in your dream, represents your understanding of the principles of balance and grace. You carry yourself with much poise and get along well with others.

And it's hard at the end of the day.

2005-08-27T00:15:00.000+08:00

Since there is practically no other way of getting to you, I have to post everything here, for everyone to read.

First of all, you're not the only one getting hurt. I hate to have to do this to you, but it isn't fun for me either. I didn't stop loving you. Just realized that Love couldn't make every single thing all right. I could have chosen to be selfish and cowardly and clung on to you. I could have refused to face up to reality and continued being with you. But at the end of the day, life wouldn't get easier for either of us. Perhaps you don't feel it yet, but you have to agree that our lives are different.

We cannot give the support each of us needs. You often say that I don't understand you, and I will admit as much. I don't know your life. I've never been through anything you have. I don't understand and I cannot, ever. Similarly, you don't understand me either. Ever wondered what I really wanted to say when I started a sentence then finished by saying nevermind or nothing? There's so much that I cannot say to you. There's so much that I know you will never understand, simply because it's never happened to you. There's so much I don't bother telling you for fear that you might take it the wrong way.

You may continue blaming me for hurting you, for betraying your faith in me, and any other hideous sin that I am innocent of. I'll take the blame. Because you did warn me of our differences, way early on, probably in January. And I did ignore your warnings. So I'll take the blame for as long as you feel like blaming me. But there is one thing that I will not do. And that is to sit by and watch as you degrade what we had, into something that was mere folly. I don't regret loving you. And I still do. You might not understand all my reasons for having to break up with you, but think of this. Would it have been any better to say that my parents would never accept you?

We had a real relationship. It wasn't about me taking you for granted, just to have someone around. You may accuse me of everything, but not of playing you. I did not. And I would never. Because I've been played and I would never wish that on anyone else.

Life doesn't just suck for you alone. Life sucks for me too. Life sucks even more without you around. You could make it that much better by forgiving me, soon. Or you could make it worse for me, by continuing to hurl abuse at me. I'm not going to stop you. I can't.

It's your choice. You can choose to make me happier, or even more depressed. And I'm not going to remind you of what you would have done, this same time last week.

What you would have done when I still closed my eyes to reality.

Did I disappoint you.

2005-08-25T16:23:00.000+08:00

I am SO so depressed. I thought he'd just blocked and deleted me from everything including friendster. Deleted my testimonial too. But it turns out that I don't even have his testimonial for me anymore.

Talk about a clean break, huh?

And I thought I was heartless.

Ahh. School rocks. No, like seriously. At least 5 people have cried in the span of two days. We just have too much protein in our body.

Went to the doctor for an mc. Said I was having sharp pains in my stomach (which was true!!) and she sent me for a urine test. Didn't realize what she was testing for at first, but when I did..Gosh, it was hilarious. Testing for pregnancy. And when I went back to her with the results stating, very clearly, that I was not pregnant, she gave me a really incredulous look and said, as if it were the most ridiculous thing on earth.. "You're not pregnant!"

Oh come on. I wouldn't go to a doctor to test for pregnancy. I'd test at home and freak out. Gee.

Haha..The last time I went there, they made me do a blood test. I wonder what they want to test next.

I have a new number! But I'm still using my old one. Haha. All in the name of free incoming. M card! So yea. Call me. Whee.

And I still hold your hand in mine, in mine when I'm asleep..

2005-08-24T19:41:00.000+08:00

I should have left it in April. I shouldn't given both of us false hope. I shouldn't have asked him back. I shouldn't have been selfish and clung on tight when I knew there would be no future with him.

In the end, I just cannot imagine a future. I cannot imagine spending a lifetime waking up beside him, though I really want to. He can, but I can't. Besides that, we really didn't have any problems. He's a wonderful guy and I wish him all the best. But he doesn't want my well wishes anymore. And I don't blame him for that. Twice, I trampled all over his ego. And we all know that ego is one thing that guys will never lose. Yet, he asked me, practically begged me for another chance. He wants to save us. But, there's just no point. I had to tell him that.

It hurts me too, but it's really for the best. We had our good times, let's leave it at that. I'll remember you, and I love you. But sometimes, love isn't enough. Love doesn't make the world go round. And I'm sorry I had to teach you that lesson.

I didn't cheat, neither did he. None of us did anything to jeopardize this, but it just came to a point when it was blatant that it would all end one day. No matter how happy we can be, it's only temporary. I had to make him understand that. Be cruel to be kind, you know. One day, I'll look back and probably wonder why I'm so stupid, but right now, it seems like the best I can do for him.

He'll find someone better suited, I know it. And he'll make her the happiest girl on earth. Simply because he's what he is. He's perfect, just not for me. I'm too selfish and egoistic to change myself for him. And there's really nothing I can ask him to change for me.

I love you, and that's why I had to break up with you. There's no future for us. I love you and I want you to be happy, ultimately. And I can't give you that. It was fate that we met, and it was love that we had. But..our paths are never going to intersect again, and the gap is only going to get wider. Let go, while we still can. It's the only thing we can do.

One day, you will understand. I meant it when I said I still do want to be your friend. You'll always have a place in my heart. You pulled me through one of the toughest times, I can't forget you for that. I want to know you 20 years down the road, I want to be there at your wedding with your dream girl. I want to congratulate you when you get your own business. I want to do so much for you. But right now, the only thing I can do, is set you free. And hope you won't hate me.

Because I don't hate you.

I've never hated you and I could never.

Sabby says I should treasure any fool that comes along and loves me. And I do. I really do. And I thank you. But I don't think I believe in love anymore.