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i feel terrible.

She was like the water that freezes inside a rock and breaks it apart. It was no more her fault than it is the fault of the water when the rock shatters.
--One Stab, Legend of the Falls

if i gave you a choice
to take back the last 48 hours of your life
and change everything


would you?

* because at the end of the race
when the fatigue passes
we can say
i ran the race, and finished.

the dogs ran out today
and in a crazy frenzy
i drove in circles
screaming for mango
around the estate
(we're not sure cooper
even knows his name)

we found them.
and if i had my way
i'll keep them tied up
until december.

urgh.
panic mode.

some of you reading cherie's blog has asked "she got married??"
yes. i havent got many peetures of my new brother,
because he's camera shy-- but in a wild burst of
mac-topia, with the new built in i-sight:
here's a peek.

he can be quite funny.

nobody cares.
i most certainly don't.

why, oh why is gilmore not out yet??
(the series closes on 15 may--
as much as i love them,
i'm quite glad its the last season:
the new writers are butchering it all.)

grab your gear, and buckle in,
tonight we drive
until the morning light.

let me just lie here








and waste away.

everyday that we are together is a choice
its not a simple matter of responsibility,
or accountability, or committment.

its about choice.

you choose every morning that you wake
to be in love
you choose every night that you sleep
to love and hold dear
you choose every time you talk
to be loving and kind

and above all
you choose every fight you have
to let go, to hold back

because you choose her, above all.

the only way to tear the boyf away from work
is to turn on the soccer.

hurmpf.

today i watched 3 hours worth of youtube

watching the terri irwin interviews.
(yes, i'm still grieving about it okay,
pls, no one talk to me about it.)

this is interview part 1 (there are 7, do watch them all--i did.)


and i watched tons of stevo clips
this one has gotta be the funniest.
featuring ROSS the intern, this totally hilarious pansy of a man
do watch do watch do watch!

while many of you have probably watched this, watch it again, it still cracks me up.

its the one with the english lesson:


the spa prank:


( if you liked the spa one, go and search for the japanese toilet pranks )

this one is for mariann and all other fish lovers out there:
so cool, training one's fish.

villa nalinnadda

i want to go to koh samui.
:)

every now and then
i check the Pearls before Swine
website and laugh at the crocs

everyone should too!
(PIG reminds me of the resident hufflepuff. haha)

from time to time, we ask ourselves,
what is the price of a relationship?

is it the time spent being in love that everything else comes to a screeching halt?
is it the emotions that burrow deep into our throats and into the canals of our hearts?
is it the friends we give up, or forget along the way?
is it the family dinners that go forgotten and coming back so late daddy has gone to sleep before you say goodnight?
is it the money saved that gets spent on flowers and chocolates and movies and ben & jerrys?

the price of a relationship, is the possibility (some more probable that others)
of heartbreak.

i don't mean i-slam-down-the-phone-because-i'm-angry
i don't mean i-walk-out-of-the-movie-leaving-you-with-a-lap-full-of-popcorn
i don't mean i-drive-off-without-the-kiss-goodbye

i mean the bone shaking knees weakening kind of wretchedness
that shakes the core of our self-esteem,
that demolishes all the castles we build of happy-ever-afters,
that eats at the tissues of our heartstrings, like festering pulsating pimples

and when it hits you, when it rocks your safe little sailboat,
and you're thrown overboard

you just have to swim, swim, swim
until your feet touches ground
or until you can swim no more

so the 18 year olds got together.
:) yay for e & c.

hoola hoola!

packing up my gear, bound for home.
nothing poetic to say really
just that i'll really miss you.

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

-William Blake

such lovely peace--
that eludes me;
but it's raining now
and i feel them on my face

nothings nothing i like better
than my room in the rain
except having you here with me.

c r a s h . b a m . s n o o z e.

what is there left to say?

woke up this morning with the old familar feeling, not one i've felt in a long time; an old familar feeling that brings out the ache and the tears and the crazy insane feelings of not being enough, of out-of-this world craziness and insanity.

and i had to leave to come home, to just be home, be quiet and meaningfully spend the day with cooper.

who must think i'm mad, to come home and fling my arms around his shaggy shoulders and weep over his head.

what's there to be so upset about? nothing, and yet everything.
i want to say its just exhaustion-- or that little bit of comfort of home, where everything blends into everything and everyone just has hugs and concern on their faces.

throw it into the wind, they say. scream it out loud and let it go.
but today let me just wallow until i can wallow no more
and tomorrow i'll be okay.

28 is too far away; but tomorrow's significance diminishes with the morning.


I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know, right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know, right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be Me

--unwell; matchbox twenty

things have taken such a drastic turn the past few days.

imagine getting accustomed to the sauna's slow dry heat
and then suddenly the room tips
and you're plunged into antartica
wet snow on your bare shoulders.

its hard to believe that we are the same people
that we were 100 hours ago
because so much has changed.

and little by little
and bit by heartbreaking bit
everyday we lose a little of ourselves

and we lose a lot of us.

yay for LAVI!!

:) looks like summer is on!

there's something weepy about this morning
the rain against the wide panes of the window
the way the world looks tinged
as if one put on gray glassed sunshades
and peered out from behind them.

i am ok
just feeling lost at this point
terrified at what happens from this point.

but empress dowager says go
so its a done deal.
me?
who really cares what i think,
the decree is passed.

it's like we're bumble bees
and i'd definately tell you to sting the intruder
its the right thing to do, fight for your survival
but at the same time, i need a moment,
a moment to myself as i realise
the stinging might tear the life out of you and me.

chasing cars; snow patrol

We'll do it all, everything, on our own
We don't need anything or anyone

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world

I don't quite know how to say how I feel
Those three words are said too much
They're not enough

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world
Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life

Let's waste time
Chasing cars
Around our heads
I need your grace
to remind me
to find my own

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world
Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life

All that I am
All that I ever was
Is here in your perfect eyes
They're all I can see
I don't know where
Confused about how as well
I just know that these things
Will never change for us at all

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world

the new name's nua.

tonight was a nice reprieve from eveything
and everyone that was around knows what that means

having a bunch of very energetic 18 yr olds around
means for some reason you laugh at anything
at stolen touches, at stupid cards, at jinxed play

:) i liked the lot of them.

tis silly, this wanting to be 18 again.

the pool was tough enough,
after the past few days of dragging my body
against the resistance of the water
now it feels like someone poured mud in, and the sludge
drags me lower and slower.

muscles screaming, mind exploding
sleep deprived.

Is love a tender thing? It is too rough,
Too rude, too boist'rous; and it pricks like thorn.

--William Shakespeare
Romeo & Juliet

There will be little rubs and disappointments everywhere, and we are all apt to expect too much; but then, if one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first calculation is wrong, we make a second better: we find comfort somewhere . . .

--Jane Austen
Mansfield Park

But the disparaging of those we love always alienates us from them to some extent. We must not touch our idols; the gilt comes off in our hands.
--Gustave Flaubert
Madame Bovary

she stares down at her feet as the rain pools around it
her shoulders are drenched, just as her heart is
bleeding pulsing healing breaking beating
one and the same, each one different from the other

she spins, arms outstretched
spins and turns and whirls
because the world goes on, little girl
it does not stop, please make it stop

and spins she does
and ricochets off the walls
within her head
and shoots off into the wind

she blazes bright white
crimson, navy, ochre, emerald, mustard, lime, burgundy
leaving a trail of gold dust in her wake
gold that falls to the ground like they belong to leprechauns
and leave the unmistakable splatter of blood
viciously split, gushing forth.

there is nothing i can say that can make this any easier

i'm here for you.
know that.

what i would give to take this cross
that you carry.

~c

you can hear a sample of the music by corrinne may here:
click me!

so many people have asked about Mr Beasley, hear it there too.

Meeting point
Louis Macneice (1907-1963)

Time was away and somewhere else,
There were two glasses and two chairs
And two people with the one pulse
(Somebody stopped the moving stairs)
Time was away and somewhere else.

And they were neither up nor down;
The stream's music did not stop
Flowing through heather, limpid brown,
Although they sat in a coffee shop
And they were neither up nor down.

The bell was silent in the air
Holding its inverted poise -
Between the clang and clang a flower,
A brazen calyx of no noise:
The bell was silent in the air.

The camels crossed the miles of sand
That stretched around the cups and plates;
The desert was their own, they planned
To portion out the stars and dates:
The camels crossed the miles of sand.

Time was away and somewhere else.
The waiter did not come, the clock
Forgot them and the radio waltz
Came out like water from a rock:
Time was away and somewhere else.

Her fingers flicked away the ash
That bloomed again in tropic trees:
Not caring if the markets crash
When they had forests such as these,
Her fingers flicked away the ash.

God or whatever means the Good
Be praised that time can stop like this,
That what the heart has understood
Can verify in the body's peace
God or whatever means the Good.

Time was away and she was here
And life no longer what it was,
The bell was silent in the air
And all the room one glow because
Time was away and she was here.

-------------------------------

i know i've blogged these a million times,
such romance in the words.

-------------------------------

When you are old and gray
William Butler Yeats

WHEN you are old and gray and full of sleep
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead,
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

--------------------------------

the world is too small--

the new girlfriend
of the one person
whose ex-girlfriends i just had enough of,
turns out to be an ex-bestfriend
of a friend of mine.

he found her, in the middle of the ocean.

and that, though fictional,
made me weep at the sheer romance of it all.

"I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud"

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed---and gazed---but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

--William Wordsworth

and this is why, why Wordsworth is Wordsworth.

. . . usually words come easily
but this time, let the silence speak.

exhausted to the point of looking-for-reason-to-cry
just let me lie here, just let me lie here.

all i want now, is green curry with baby bally eggplants
all i want now, is radish soup
all i want now, is cold crab legs
all i want now, is bread and butter pudding
all i want now, is herbal chicken

i know it makes for a disgusting meal put together
but ah well, ding dong,
ding dong, ding dong, dink donk.

why, oh why does scofield have to be perpetually sheened in sweat?

:) moment of clarity.
i see right through you.

hate is not the opposite of love
indifference is.

there we go.
chapter ripped, shreaded, burnt to ashes.
i'm done with closing that chapter.
this time i'm destroying it.

wave your goodbyes,
this ship is sailing.

no tears this time,
(cue sarcasm) darling
i'm done, i'm done, i'm done.

the piano piece is utterly too romantic
for the mood i'm in,
emotions running wild all over the place.

hopefully tonight will be a fretless night.

pip pip
and too soon
its time to lay me down to rest.

i cant quite get this song outta my head
sitting in gabriel's dining room
with him, guitar in hand, singing
corrinne may's tunes.

Mr. Beasly

You don't have to drive a fancy car
Don't have to quote me Shakespeare
Just to woo me
Yeah I see your nervous laughter
When you're trying to crack some joke
Well you don't fool me

I'd like to see your eyes through those goggles that you're wearing
Don't try to hide away

*Just be yourself Mr. Beasley
I don't need your show of attitude
Cos it's your soul that makes me fall in love with you
Fall in love with you

You don't notice but I see you
In the church when you were praying
You just move me
And my friend Sue she tells me
You've been teaching kids for free
Mr Philanthropy

the sun creeps up as i creep
into that beautiful lull
of my cradle of pillows.

tra la~, its off to neverland
(and scofield & huntzberger)

nothing poetic to write really, just musing on this that and whatevers.
the house is at it's most perfect, the stillness of the night
creeps in through the windows, and swirls
and swirls around me, alone in my room.


If You Forget Me Pablo Neruda
I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Pablo Neruda

decadent living, decadent sleeping.

hoo hoo, today i woke up
without the sound of alarms, of shuffling feet,
of banging doors, of rushing.

and it feels too good to last.

if not for anything else,
go and download espisode 16 season 7
of gilmore girls
and just listen to the last 20 seconds
just to listen to zack sing at lane's baby shower.

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word,
Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird.

If that mockingbird don't sing,
Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring.

If that diamond ring turns to brass,
Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass.

If that looking glass gets broke,
Papa's gonna buy you a billy-goat.

If that billy-goat won't pull,
Papa's gonna buy you a cart and bull.

If that cart and bull turns over,
Papa's gonna buy you a dog named Rover.

If that dog named Rover won't bark,
Papa's gonna buy you a horse and cart.

If that horse and cart falls down,
You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town. "

ooh, i melt, i melt, damnit.

perth in random

so we're back from down under,
where the beaches go on forever
and the waves don't take a break
rested and well.

rewatching gilmore for the, perhaps
7th round, am at the episode where
she finds out the man she's about to marry
has a kid and he's found out for 3 months
without saying anything to her about it
so she walks into the diner, unexpected
and meets the daughter, and realisation dawns.
and i know, i recognise that feeling
that sink in the gut, cold water injected into veins
the chill that makes your hair on your hand stand
while the nape of your neck turns warm
and that little static runs down your spine
you forget to blink, smile plastered on face
and think, there must be some other explaination
please god let there be some other explaination
and there isn't, there isn't, there isn't.

man, it felt like ages ago
but it rings, and resounds so clearly
in my web-like mind, refusing to shake off
the rotten dead carcasses of flies once trapped
in those silver white threads.

because we both wont be in town this valentine's,
here's from then to now, with of course alot
alot of bits missing inbetween.

happy valentine's.

so kiss me and smile for me,
the fiasco is over, finally, finally.
not the desired outcome,
but at least now there's certainty.

celia is tired, and has been
but today, today she woke up happy.
please, noone burst my bubble.

to (1) because i miss you but i cannot tell you, our lives are a million miles apart
to (2) because of the crazy conversations, and secrets and mahjong nights
to (3) because you are in hospital and not well
to (4) because you're leaving tomorrow
to (5) because you've gotta be the sweetest relative we've got

:)

i'm upset, and i think you know why
because i made this decision because you were a friend
i changed the original plan because you asked me to,
because you said you didnt want to go it alone.

so i put myself here, for you, supposedly with you
and it hurts, that you seem to not bother about the consequences
to you, to me, to the plan we now had.

it hurts, because we are 2 fricking weeks away
supposedly to be starting the preps
and you tell me you want to change the plan
and this time, make ME go it alone.

you said you had few friends
so i tried to be there for you
take an hour to listen, really listen to you
and give you advice
and damn if it doesn't feel you're not stepping up
i don't even think it's asking you to go beyond
but just doing your half of the agreements.

so bull to what finance says
because right now, i don't even think you're
stepping up to the positions you put US in.
i don't care what finance says, and you can logically put it anyway you want
to justify it in your head, the fact is that your decision is based on Finance
doesn't make any emotional or logical sense to me

so it sounds childish, it sounds stupid
the stupid one is me, to not consider all this.

i spoke at length with the fairy god lover,
and everything becomes hazily clearer.
(ps FGL, thank you, thank you for aways being there
like my little rock, i can always count on-- in times like these
and in times of Ds, and in times of hurts)

i know i have 5, but damn i want another one.

the only one i dont mind giving away is beebee,
she's purely aesthetic, dumb as dumb gets.
:) any takers?

been so swarmped lately that i just found time to watch the coverted gilmore girls season 7 episode 12 i've been waiting to watch ever since it finished downloading 4 days ago. man oh man, what are the writers thinking for fishing's sake? seriously lah, life is depressing enough as it is, i don't need this crap.
and then since i have to wait till tomorrow to download the next episode, let me just kill it for you gg fans out there, **SPOILER ALERT**
1. lore and chris breakup, over Luke, arghhh, how many times must we do this?? can't they all just frickin move on already? lore and luke broke up eons ago (ie, 1/2 season) and i mean MOVE ON.
2. there is not gonna be much of logan, although episode 13 promises that he flies in on his chartered helicoper to be with rory at the hospital
3. richard gilmore does not die, although michel's stupid chow does.
4. oh have you heard, sookie's pregnant again, haiya, again, again.

damnnit. the new writers are killing the damn show. no more frickin lalaland, happy to sleep after the satisfying episode.
growl.

oh yea, amy and sherman palladino have a new series coming out about 2 sisters.
i hope they poach lauren graham, rory can just stay there.
from the way things look, she's going back to dean eventually (no, this one is sarcastic, but for some reason rory always ends up back in deano's long arms)

:( stupid show. but i'm still--kick my ass pls-- waiting for episode 13 to be uploaded. :(
argh.

there, steffie, i hope your night's better than mine. boogers.
and sueann lee, i like chris and lore, i do, i like having chris ard. boogers too.
and sooli, hurry up and catch up pls, it's no fun whining to you when you are on season 3--she doesnt end up with jess anyhoo. she goes back to dean. then logan. then jess. then logan. haiyaaa. dumbass show.

two of my favourite tunes:
Cannon in D by Johann Pachelbel
-pls, if anyone has nice versions or compilations, send me a copy/ copies; one can never have enough.
Classical Gas by Mason Williams

here are some youtubes, just listen.

Pachelbel:

1. the lovely traditional piano
2. brass quintet-- a bit annoying this version, but that's cos i'm not into brass instruments

3. harp

3. the lovely traditional piano

Classical Gas
1. the perfect tempo, the way i like it. i told myself when i first heard this how much i wanted to date a guy who could play the guitar, and this particular tune outside my window.

2. the original version, by the original guy


--will somebody pls buy me/download THE HOLIDAY OST for me?

its nice, just sitting here
on the sofa that cannot be sat on
among friends, good friends around
the mahjong table
white tiles
mangosteens
singlets and sleevelessness
and i sit here in my nice
terry cloth sweater with 3 black buttons
planning what to wear to the big harry potter
dress-up-queue-for-hallows on the 21st of July
i want to go as winky
my eyes are not big enough to go as dobby

from now on no one at home is gonna wash
their smelly pillow cases.
:) i'd look so hot i think.

sniggers.

come join us, queue outside borders the night before.
i promise good fun, and the most amazing sorting hat.

come and see, the sooli hufflepuff.

to the little girl with the pink pom pom and the ang moh nose: i like the bursts of energy and the crazy fun you inject into the sessions and games. you are more than just noise, you actually fight with your everything, and play with your everything, and i like that. you're a little fighter, a little survivor, and i hope you keep on fighting, keep on going. i know in many ways, you understand what it is like to want acceptance from family and friends--just wanted to say i think you are very capable, and smarter than most kids your age, so fight on sugar, fight on.

to the shaved boy who once had sideburns: i know you've seen more than most kids your age, i know growing up wasn't easy for you. but you know J, you have so much to be proud of, so much you can do as long as you choose to. choice is a very powerful thing, and i wish i had the time to sit down and talk to you. i just wanted to say that i really enjoyed meeting you and your group (double earhole, belly dancer, freckles, eyelashes & japanese)-sorry i don't know the individual names, but this is how i remembered you guys the past 3 days- but all of you, i don't ask that you be angels, just that you'd all learn to be responsible for the choices that you make, and that at the end of the day all of you can answer to yourself. J, it's been touching, seeing that under that fierce face, you actually care about your friends, you actually bother about people's feelings, and i think should be so proud of yourself. you promised me a story before we drove off about you-know-who, so do drop me an email. (cecilia@ekatraining.com)

meme. one. word.

You.
Can.
Only.
Type.
One.
Word.
No.
Explanations.

1. Yourself: C
2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend (spouse): boyscout
3. Your hair: straight :)
4. Your Mother: menopause
5. Your Father: overweight
6. Your favorite Item: diamond
7. Your dream last night: no
8. Your favorite drink: cherryade
9. Your dream car: jag
10. The room you are in: blue
11. Your Ex: spikey
12. Your fear: lizards
13. What you want to be in 10 years? Mummy
14. Who you hung out with last night? Gilmore
15. What you're not? toned
16. Muffins: banana
17. One of your wish list items: jade
18. Time: evening
19. The last thing you did: TEEVEE
20. What you are wearing: heh.
21. Your favorite weather: snow
22. Your favorite book: mockingbird
23. The last thing you ate: corn
24. Your life: dramatic
25. Your mood: bitching
26. Your best friend: piglet
27. What are you thinking about right now? cold
28. Your car: feet
29. What are you doing at the moment? singing
30. Your summer: ending
31. Your relationship status: love
32. What is on your TV? gilmore
33. What is the weather like? dark
34. When is the last time you laughed? yest

in light of the weekend to come
i went to kinokuniya today, and blew
too much moolah on books, glorious
glorious wonderful books! 7 books, 150$.

oh my.
what's going into my bag tonight:
1. cloud atlas- david mitchell
(finally. it's in stock!! i cannot wait!!)
2. sputnik sweetheart- Haruki Murakami
(as much as i told myself not to venture into said writer again, i saw the book, and seriously, who could resist a depressing, black-white-red book with manic-depressive lesbian characters?)

["My head is like some ridiculous barn packed full of stuff i want to write about," she said."images, scenes, snatches of words...in my mind they are all glowing, all alive. write! they shout at me. a great new story is about to be born-i can feel it. it'll transport me to some brand new place. problem is, once i sit at my desk and put them all down on paper, i realise something vital is missing. it doesn't crystallise--no crystals, just pebbles. and i am not transported anywhere." --Sputnik Sweetheart, Haruki Murakami]

i think 2 books should suffice!

it was a lovely time, lovely lovely time.

there is little time left and my hands are truly tied
so friends bear with me, i'm swarrrmped, with trip preps
and fighting the tide of things to do

busy busy, just the way i like it
the dream disturbed me on a very elemental level
and i cannot get it out of my head
and wondering just what my subconscious is telling me

i think i know why sooli's this important
no one sits there and listens to me talk about my very vivid dream
and actually listens, like really listens instead of hmming it away
because it is a dream.

it'll get better, little li, it'll get better
busy is good.

ps: mariann i promise to bring home a kangaroo.

seething bubbling
overflowing spewing

for once i'm up at 7 odd, without having stayed up through the night, awake not because i have to be, but because the body, for some reason refuses to adjust to my lovely pink-ping room. (it must be the too big bed, and for once having 4 pillows + 1 bolster + 2 blankets about me, all for me)

i spent last night tossing and turning, finally just refusing to move or open my eyes, and after nearly what felt like 30 mins of frustration, i opened my eyes and it was 650! hoho. i love these sleep surprises.

the morning is dewy, and silent--with nothing but joni mitchell for company, i sit here, rather content, eyes droopy again.

Who will buy this wonderful morning?
Such a sky you never did see!
Who will tie it up with a ribbon,
And put it in a box for me?

i had a beautiful pair of rimless Silhouette
whose lens shaped i designed on my own--
my father's friend has one of those specs lens
cutter machines and cut and recut it until it was the shape i wanted
perhaps about 1 & 1/2 years old

i broke the bridge of the rimless perhaps a year back
and i've been meaning to fix it, as long as i take it to
a siloette dealer, pay him maybe 40 bucks
and get the broken part replaced.

but i waited and got lazy and forgot
and now, now when i have to get my current 2 day old
specs replaced.. i cant frickin find it.
:( i think the maid threw it out cos it looked broken

ohh dear pink Silhouette

PS: i said yes to GOING; the parents said yes to GOING; the boss said yes to GOING-- so heehee.

sifting through history 1

had time on my hands today, so i re-read some old posts from the old blogs.
exerpts coming up.

#1
there's no way i can wipe the slate clean
your sins were etched deep
so you will see my constellation
twinkling and sparkling a bright brillant white
against the velvet black night sky
million miles away from your grasp
light years away from your sticky tainted finger tips

stare at the picture of my star
and know that was in reality, many many moons ago

#2
right now the sky is a shade of purple-pink, and it reminds me of a purple rose i once received that i dried--the edges lined with black, that's the color of the sky from my window.
thank you for coming to see me, as tired as you were, and as much on your plate and on your shoulders. thank you for coming to see me because i was sad, and for remembering how i cannot sleep mid-fight. thank you for giving in when i was unreasonable, for being the matured one thinking of the future, when i was pissed off at what now feels petty and uncalled for.

But things just get so crazy,
living life gets so hard to do
And I would gladly hit the road,
get up and go if I knew
That someday it would lead me back to you
That someday it would lead me back to you"
-Sunday Morning, Maroon 5
thank you for seeing my heart.

#3
I have carried these scabs of old--
Enough, enough, fingers stop your pickings
What is it, to see the fresh blood--
Just to know you bleed red like everyone?
Enough, enough, I rather carry the quiet scars
And soon, soon, to forget the pain.

#4
"i've got all the time in the world"
i had a dream, of an abandoned one story house--well, abandoned isn't an accurate word really, the word is "vacant". the stone walkway is split into two, but to put one's feet on either and walk would be hard--one would choose the grasspatch in the middle. but in this house, there was no television, no adornments, no cupboards either. just a too-small sofa, facing a too-big fish-tank, with ten arowanas swimming back and forth. and in circles, and circles. they all looked the same, with varying degrees of grade, and colour--some are pale, and look like silver knives; some are flecked with gold and red, sleek, like someone going for an oriental dinner.

i fed them through a tiny hole at the top of the tank, and put the orange tongs back in the kitchen.

as the house moved away from me, or i from it, it is never clear in these dreams, i found myself outside, beneath the banana tree and what looks like chiku to me, and under these trees, i found a quiet little spot, to sit and relax, to perhaps read a book or have a cold beer in the middle of the day.

i lingered there, for a short while, perhaps too long a while, because now when i think back, it was a rather long while, but too short a while.

#5
The Golden Age of Girl

Eighteen;
The Piazza’s alive and made for her
Its brick walkways and billowing tents
Piques her interest with its blue baubles and red scarves.

Eighteen;
She Dances at midnight with vodka in her hand.
Deafening punk-rock, fast cars and cigarette smoke,
She blooms at midnight, and is drunk by dawn

Eighteen;
Heartbroken and reveling in it, the world will never be the same
Depression writes its comedy, with tissues, soak-stained.
She tattoos her hurt on her heart, “This love is the last.”

Eighteen;
Poetry in the Burettes, Novels in the Laboratory,
She stirs a glass beaker of aphrodisiacs
In her own mind, and smiles to herself

Eighteen;
In love, and lovers frolic in the park
The swings stop in motion—she touches the stars
Legs dangle, entwine and reach the
streaks of the sky.

Eighteen;
She looks at Prospectuses and global education
Yale, Columbia, Beijing, Sydney, Ottawa, Bristol
Anywhere, everywhere, she sprouts wings on her back
She Catalogues her room and worries what clothes to bring.

Eighteen;
She fights for Feminism, and Equality of all Men (and Women)
Cares for Mandela; Salutes the lone soldier of Tiananmen
And cares not for Grassroots, or GRCs or Single-Wards.

Eighteen;
And Beautiful, brimming over with wit and a quick laughter
She laughs at others, with others. At herself too.
The world was made for her: and heeded her calls.

#6
it's my first day off.
pleased as punch.
kinda lonely at home though--
my boyscout's a workaholic; (like my boss is too)
my bestfriend's probably nursing a hangover from her romp last night at MOS
my rabbit's in UK
my wife's working
my commando bastards are i-dunno-where, either in camp or playing computer games

i want to go to i t a l y
and p a r i s
and b a r c e l o n a
and b a n g k o k
and e g y p t
and i n d i a
and t i b e t
and m y a n m a r
and i r e l a n d
and c a n a d a
and m a l d i v e s

i've got wanderlust.

#7
been in a funk today
and it all cuminates at boiling point
and here i am
a pulsating pustule of agitation
waiting to erupt and spew
to ::you::
because this time--it's indifference.
because this time, i'm not angy
because this time, i'm not sad

because i stopped expecting anything from you
i've stopped pinning my ceramic hopes on you
when you carelessly and predictably
smash them on the ground

we're done, i'm through.
i've got the boyscout, you've got the leech--
it's quite evident which of one of us
picked someone of more worth than our exes.

so ryan, now i shrug,
as you are in bali with your little slut.
i shrug, and my heart stops breaking for you.
it stopped breaking a long time ago.
i just never noticed till now.

no more tears behind the smile.
no more hanging aeroplanes on the wall.
save your lies.
i'm through.

you fade into nothing.
and my heart stops breaking.

#8
basketball was never my thing--
but it has always been yours.
despite the torrents of sweat
pouring down shaq
and despite the crazy haphazard
running as if they were air molecues

i loved that you sat through
1 and a half hours of bad singing
just to be close to me.

so i sat there, watching spalding balls
fly through hoops, after hoops
and scores that dont increase in any order.
:) and enjoyed you.

#9
so the saying goes
"Live and Let Live."
you are a contridiction onto your own.
a walking antithesis of speech and deeds.
a juxtaposition of right and wrong.
an oxymoron.

and a fucking irony.

#10
a blank screen of emotions,
the static sounds,
and the hiss the little flecks make
as they race across the screen.
a moment red
a flash of yellow
an explosion of blue
and races between cyan, purple and green.

the television's on
but no one sees the picture
and no one hears the voices
drowned in the multitude of distracting lights
and the static song of interference

there's that feeling i hate, more than anything in the world
as if someone plunged a stringe into your veins and pumped
in gallons of ice water, the kinda ice under your skin
and under your scalp, and your belly button pulls inwards
in an unexplicable force and it feels like there's a huge
stone that suddenly thumped in your stomach
giving you that terrible stomachache
coupled with the shivers under your skin
leaving you caught in that limbo
between crazy and unwell..

a friend emails. and talks to me of the weather there and how it gets impossibly cold, and i can't wait, i can't wait for my next winter's night, with snowfall on my nose and the way it's so cold it becomes hot. i love the many bundles of clothing one has to put on and the scarfs and the beanies (which i have a neck of losing) and the gloves and the mufflers (yes, cold ears) and hoo boy, do i love those trench coats and those that plumps one up to look like a little duck waddling, i love mine, mine--not a hand-me-down, all mine. my thick fluff coat sadly does not have a fur collar, (i think they're sexy ok), but i love every inch of it. :)

a winter's night sure sounds lovely doesn't it? the terms suggest warm cuddles and hot chocolate, of the musky scent of wood burning and for some reason, pine and eucalyptus. it resonates this bundled romanticism, of coated lovers hugging in the cold, lying in the snow making snow angels and snow ball fights? surely, you say, surely the slush and the wet feet and the cold are not funny after a while--but you know, for that moment, it's just the perfect time, perfect time for anything really.

like a postcard, i see the house alit with fairy lights, i see the trees covered in snow, i see the chimney with its curly wisps of smoke, i see the candles on the table and the fluff coat in the corner--an amazing magical white coated world.

but as for tropical little singapore, the rain will just have to do.
:) but as the boyscout would remember, not too fondly, sitting under this red blanket in the rain at mac ritchie, and as the ex-boyfriend would frantically try to pull me under his umbrella given my enjoyment of running into the rain.

to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go. to go or not to go.

to go or not to go?

miss victoria secrets is having her clearance sale everyone!!
:) victoriassecret.com

there is a tap a tapping on the inside of my brain
a tap a tapping that would not cease
and would not go away

because of that ugly exchange so early in the morning
because i said bye and and you didnt
because i said hi and your silence made me feel small
because i'm over sensitive

there are good days, friends who bring such comfort.




i'd miss you wife when you're all the way in milan
and jingxi i'd definately want to visit
and rach dearie, hang in there, things can only get better