stranger within

2010-04-17T11:16:00.001+08:00

~ i'm ditching this dump and moving to another place. far from the politics, the troubles, the perfect bubble we once used to live in. catch me if you can.

2010-04-04T14:01:00.004+08:00

~i promise i won't come back until i find out the final embrace of your betrayal.

2010-03-17T14:38:00.003+08:00

ah, now there's nothing in life compared to a fierce lover holding on to you for far too long.
i find that highly sexy.

2010-03-17T13:20:00.004+08:00

this form of updating has recently been an addictive hook-up for me, so i'll continue with it.

monday - i so lied to my boss, that i was to go overseas and settle/sort out some family issue. truth was, and still is that i was just plain exhausted after paramore and i needed a break from wearing formal cuffed shirts and highly polished shoes. so for 3 days i gained a free ticket off work and i was ready to face dreamland again. oh, and nothing like riding coat-tails like a freeloader baby.

tuesday - bestbitch wanted to get the deluxe edition adam lambert Cd so they could watch our favourite resident drag queen turned superstar via American Idol belt out his ultimate hits at ResortWorld, no not the one in Malaysia but the newly opened part of the IR project. settled for the HMV at 313 and thus ended up playing the Ps3, got into a window shopping spree. tested out jackets, shirts and bags, all to bicker and bitch and then disappoint the salesperson so readily urging us to whip out our cash. was total fun and yeah, once again, ladies and gentlemen, we have another successful date. no not date date, but date. you know date? oh, forget it.

wednesday - makanfest at west coast again. jumping stalls and food restaurants, we hiked again and again to taste what people truly call singapore "food paradise". well that was it. satay, roti john and a whole new level of unhealthy was riding in our system.

thursday - so i decided that hibernating was making me sick. it was like being stuck with both a euphoric sensation and sickness. no time limit, waking up to your own desire only to crash back after an hour and then having so much time to do stuff like reading and watching a whole lotta crap on the telly, chilling out at starbucks. yeah, well i introduced leroy cos, i figured if i did, then he'd be happy he had a job and i'd be getting a pay increment since i managed to recommend someone, so it was a double deal that was highly unlikely refused.

saturday - seems crazy that i just say paramore, but now i couldn't believe that was up to see Adam Lambert out live and get him to autograph the Cd bestbitch bought. okay, so from analyzing past crazed crowds and maniacal queue-ing tactics we decided a safe bet was to be there at Bugis Sq at 9. well we're never really planners so we screwed up and i was the one who reached there at 10 only to have bestbitch wake up an 11 and say she over-slept. typical you know women! having late night conversations with god knows who or what? and then turning up late. so yes, from then onwards, i decided to jump into the line headfirst, under the hot sun, sweaty, smelly and the fact that i only had my ipod and my camera. however i must say, it was a great chance, and ultimatist oppurtunity because i observed. studied people's behaviour and tested out theories that were left unexplained. yes, this is getting a tinsy bit psychotic and neurolgically unstable but it was satisfying. trust my mom and dad to make me and then install the immense curiosity that i was born with. i can't help it sometimes, i just love to observe and make notes and speak the whole truth. some people agree that's a problem. i find that being different rules. plus i have a sharp eye and keen hearing to boot. okay anyways, bestbitch came slightly after noon and we sat there talking and sharing stories of our past days. true, she expected me to be immensely mad, but say that doesn't matter because anger can only get you so far. besides i missed her like mad and i didn't care for my anger once she arrived. oh, and on this day, i solemnly swore that i will not consider my diet and eat anything offered to me. with a book in had, bestbitche's favourite author of course, we set out to eat curry 'Os and double cheeseburgers and insatiable feed frenzy of fries and fizzy drinks. above all, he finally came and oh my god! i must say that he was exactly what the epitome described. a legend. with a silver armlet and a limited etd Queen's bohemian rhapsody tee and his flashing blue eyes and matching mettalic blue streaks in hair, he was like a god. yes, i am a fan. a die-hard one at that. and no, i have not fallen in love with another man till now. oh shoot, do i sense an outroar? anyways it was a good day and our impromptu plans worked out semi-sortedly. oh, when i walked back home in a "I LOVE ADAM" banner sorta thing. people started looking at me like i was an alien. trust singaporeans to be so predictable. i even raised the lime green banner and blew a rasberry at this particular middle-aged man in a Nissan Cefiro.

till later.
xoxo

P.s : yeah, i will update more on my postively enriched crazy lifestyle after work cos i think i got caught using the company's computer. hahs.

2010-03-08T18:53:00.001+08:00

PARAMORE WAS AWESOME.

2010-03-05T12:55:00.001+08:00

2010-03-05T11:58:00.002+08:00

i haven't much time to blog because, even freelance work can be a bitch and even that, i'm too busy involved to be distracted, or even remember to go online, but here are the events from the week.

Sunday - i finally realised that with all that much free time, i know it's sounds ironic, but i do have off days. so i decided to finish Jill Mansel's Kiss 62 chapters and what started out as, jumbled alphabets and slow processing because this, is by far the first novel i'm reading ever since enrolling into RP. and no, goosebumps don't count. RP has a way of getting to your brain-cells i presume. but eventually i finished with the fact that there are, indeed still good writers left in this cruel world where words have no meaning littered on a parchement in ink. so however waste of time it might have been, it was in fact fulfilling.

Monday - was it the first day of the month? no, not that kind of first but you get my gist. so, i treaded down to school because i was one of the chosen for the DCID orientation and camp. truth to be god, i agree to a whole mile that that the people chosen do have leadership skills. yes, we are misfits, but don't they always say imperfection leads to perfection eventually. plus, it's a balance between wild kids, intellectual kids and uh, let's say deep in thought kids. brain-stormed on games and then accidently got involved in someone chick's birthday party which was unexpected because the mate on the other line told me that there was just a small gathering. and to say the least, 15 people? plus, she was there. though it was great sort of to see her? ended up getting free soup and what, parted with deep rooted cash eventhough i got no idea, who the birthday chick was. no matter because the steady stream of tears explained all. spin the bottle. truth or dare. not a shabby day at all.

Wednesday - was simply too awesome to mention here. 3 clues. go figure. West Coast, Starbucks, Family Planning.

And here i am now, not at home, not at work, but at school. don't need to rub your eyes. you read right. school. laptop crashed on me whilst i was watching the proposal. how corny indeed. well babe decided to get sick and i'm repairing her at the IT helpdesk. i'm bored. browsing through the slow, school laptop for movies cos, i wanna give her a surprise. she's not texted me yet. this is going to be one of those days. i can tell.

2010-03-02T19:31:00.003+08:00

The way you walk, the way you talk,
The way you smile sets me off.
The way you move, the way you groove,
Makes me glad that I'm with you.

2010-03-02T18:48:00.001+08:00

2010-02-22T10:04:00.000+08:00

waking up in the morning feeling like. hey, listen up. i think i love you.

2010-02-19T22:52:00.002+08:00

once, we had a conversation. not just an ordinary day-to-day conversation. not something so special that it'd make you go wow. however this conversation struck a chord in me because of the fact that unlike all the other conversations we had, this particular one was about our dreams, our hopes, the warmness of the soul.

no, it wasn't about what we wanted to be when we grew up, it wasn't about who we wanted to marry, it wasn't about if there was another couplet like us in Shakespeare much less in real life but something so random, so uncalled for that this would have been the last thing any one of us might have thought about the moment we opened our eyes to sunlight and birds chirping in the morning.

see, the thought of us being possible siblings came to the table. no, not god-siblings and what not. but real blood siblings, she the sporty, doe-eyed, beautiful smile that would parch someone's thirst and me the book-worm, shady-eyed, evil grin that's always mistaken for being up to no good, we had a perfect life. together that is. always being able to read each other's minds, we'd use natural telepathy to feel each others needs, wants, fears even. our instincts would be so co-incided that we'd originally become twins of sorts. which leads me to another theory. that the truth is plain and stripped down, is that i would cease to exist without you.

with that in mind, we proceeded to imagine. imagine. imagine what it'd be like to have fights. what it'd be like to be having family dinners. what it'd be like to have meaningful conversations with cuppas of hot cocoa topped with marshmallows and being basked under the moonlit skies littered with beautiful stars so much the beauty incomparable to my other significant me. see it wasn't about the way we thought them up in perfect synchronization. time would never be a living factor. minutes, hours even seconds would mean nothing when she'd be at my side.

2010-02-18T22:06:00.000+08:00

2010-02-17T23:48:00.000+08:00

2010-02-17T11:53:00.000+08:00

2010-02-16T22:44:00.003+08:00

truth is, finding a simple web-page may be the most impossible thing i've ever done for a long time.

2010-02-15T23:55:00.001+08:00

2010-02-15T00:05:00.002+08:00

"and you love me but you don't know who I am." that line is such an ironic truth. see nobody does anymore. my insanely genius plan of making thee hate me, is working brilliantly. pushing a person almost of the edge always has its perks. making them feel oh so irritated with any presence only did good afterall. i know, i'm not a scientist but all it takes is pushing a few buttons here and there. on another note i remember distinctively someone telling me today, that i'm cruel and i should never be loved by anyone. well it hurts, sure as hell. but see, all i wanted was to find someone whom i could share my everything with, but see another quote makes me think contrary. "it's hardly the right choice." so that being said, makes me wonder. how can both ways be blocked? shouldn't there be one path always left to take after choosing? anyways, i don't intend to force or coerce any friendships or relationships because i believe that things will naturally go the right way in the end. either you're meant to be with thee, or not. but that's not the hardest part. what's hard is the will to wait. the will to make-believe that something could indeed happen in the future. that phase where you're neither here nor there. well, it can't be helped except to have the glimmer of hope and patience. "always have the faith that something good would happen after everything bad" was what mom always told me when i was 5 and i lost my marbles or something. eventhough i'm all grown up, i still remember those words piercing like crystals whenever i think about it. i can only derive one thing. that quotes are much appreciated and are a big part of our culture. don't we all need some quotes to make life more smooth sometimes? my point exactly. i am cruel, but that's because i know it's always going to be every man for himself and there's nobody left in this world that does or says things without an ulterior motive? there isn't much time i expect to handle all these and really concentrate on anything else. so for now, i shall wait and see.

2010-02-14T23:48:00.000+08:00

2010-02-12T23:15:00.002+08:00

what the fuck happened to living for the moment and worrying about future consequences later?

2010-02-12T17:56:00.001+08:00

2010-02-11T20:46:00.002+08:00

for a friend you shall.
for a friend you must.
for a friend i will never stop you.
for a friend i shall wait on stranger tides till you come back to me.
for a friend i shall hold every word you ever said to me, close to my heart.
for a friend i wait for the hole in the sky to tear open once again.
for a friend we will move back to what we once were.
for a friend i hold the lighted cigarette and think each puff as my last.
for a friend i will look at her square in the face, when it reminds me of your sad eyes.
for a friend i shall converse, with the fact that she is a snake behind that smile.
for a friend i will look you up at the library, with a smallest glimmer of hope.
for a friend i shall pass by burgerking and glance at the menu.
for a friend we shall let romance suffer under us like royalty.
for a friend i will let you illuminate even in the darkest night, like a distant lighthouse.
for a friend the language of a lover shall never be whispered under my lips.
for a friend we shall expose all memories.
for a friend we will risk this romance before it takes our footing.
for a friend i will destroy my everything for just a seconds worth of how my story's ending.
for a friend assure me it's okay to use my heart and not my eyes to navigate the darkness.
for a friend i will leave you to intertwine around my finger.
for a friend i will walk up and say to everyone that you're all i need.
for a friend i wish i could know if the directions that i take and all the choices that i make won't end up all for nothing.
for a friend i shall remain a singer, you the world.
for a friend falling for you is a wish, a dedication.
for a friend we shall sacrifice everything we once had.

2010-02-11T09:27:00.000+08:00

2010-02-10T21:13:00.002+08:00

it's been a hectic week for me and i haven't the time to blog about all my exploits mostly. and UT's been wrecking my head for ages because of the fact that it 50 percent. so i'll summarise.

saturday - left the guys at ion to mess around and headed to Monochrome's album launch party and it was a blast with Justin and Only After Coffee by my side and them performing. yeah, the chinese songs were a major turn-off.

sunday - woken up prematurely only to be surprised because it was the last day of the Airshow and my dad had gotten tickets. oh, how i love planes. being able to control something that is an extension as well as doing 360's and dropping down to minus G. amazing. pictures secretly uploaded on facebook though.

monday - Dinie's birthday was in session and we all met up at Bali Lane to have some great food, drink intoxicating liquor and fill our lungs with mixed fruit and strawberries. played the game and thus, it was pretty late when we left. so, making this quick. happy belated birthday Dinie and i hoped you were ecstatic about the tagger backpack and Vans tee.

tuesday - cognitive.

Wednesday - hung out with Nigel, Joel, Leroy and CQ and we headed to Wheelock and Ion to look for jobs. yeh, we act rich but we're all brokeback mountainful. well we do have big dreams, we asked around and we got vacancies in places like The Chocolate Research Factory, Massimo Dutti and many others. we went to every outlet and damn was it worth the fun, with mates that really know how to rumble. oh and i'm not going to say anymore.

goodbye.

2010-02-05T10:09:00.000+08:00

2010-02-02T19:06:00.002+08:00

i wonder why girls like to wonder why men ask stupid questions. don't it show big time, that they're the real stupid fucks?

2010-02-01T21:06:00.000+08:00

for the strong women we know.

2010-01-31T21:48:00.002+08:00

To the nice girls who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong.

This is for the girls who don't give it up on the first date, who don't want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they've heard a thousand times.

This is for the girls who understand that they aren't perfect and that the guys they're interested in aren't either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe, maybe this time he'll have understood.

This is homage to the girls who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in skirts and sweats and combat boots, who care more than they should for guys who don't deserve their attention.

This is for the girls who have been there from the beginning and have heard the trite words of advice, from "there are plenty of fish in the sea," to "time heals all wounds."
This is to honor those girls who know that guys are just as scared as they are, who know that they deserve better, who are seeking to find it.

This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that it's an experience that they don't want to miss out on. For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude comments and explicit invitations that they'd rather not have experienced.

This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blonde girl in a skirt.

This is for the girls who have been told that they're too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.

This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and heart and bed, only to discover that he's just not ready, he's just not over her, he's just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because it's easier to believe that it's not that they don't want you, it's that they don't want anyone.

This is for the girls who have had their hearts broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasn't that he didn't want a relationship: it was that he didn't want you.

I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if you only comforted him just right, or said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps he'd realize what it was that he already had.

This is for the "I really like you, so let's still be friends" comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends, you seldom choose those which make you cry yourself to sleep.

This is for the hugs you've received from your female friends, for the nights they've reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy; this is for the despair you all felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship you'd have was with a pillow and your teddy bear.

This is for the girls who have been satisfied with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don't think that they deserve more, because they've been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.

2010-01-31T13:52:00.000+08:00

2010-01-29T23:52:00.001+08:00

don't you love it when circumstances force people to do the things they do?

yes mom, i had a bad day.

2010-01-28T22:24:00.005+08:00

we lost the game today.
i forgot two of my most treasured friends' birthday.
i actually didn't remember telling her that i wanted to stop smoking.
unexpectedly, i called some girl a xxxxx

i told everyone it was a supposed acting, but deep down. it just kills me that i forgot these.
screw the game, i love the both of them but they fucking didn't deserve the remembrance ballad i just played.

so, here i am. officially asking for forgiveness for my mistakes. for my blunder. for my ignorance. for my anger and the burst of emotions.

2010-01-27T20:50:00.001+08:00

now this is how revenge should be administered.

freewrite.

2010-01-26T21:09:00.002+08:00

Today I will be writing about an issue or rather and example which was cited by one of the teams when they were presenting and it was the murder of Junko Furuta. First it was out of pure curiosity and as I was at Wikipedia so I decided to browse through. But then it became more of an obsession because the key words I typed did not actually pull out an article about her murder. However I eventually found it and as I read through it, I could not believe something like this actually could happen because of the intense brutality and sheer intensity of the torture that this poor girl endured. Even, as I was reading it, another fellow classmate from an adjacent group had already shed tears and was silently pouring out her feelings into tears because of the article which I must say evoked feelings as well as thoughts.

Well, the topic today was about how beauty was in the eye of the beholder and whether absolution was the case trigger. However, to me another chord struck in me after I read the article about the murder. My thoughts wandered to a particular question. Obviously, the murder was not a beautiful act that pleaded praise but what if on the other hand, just what if, the teenagers who tortured her felt that it was a beautiful act? Disfiguring her and viciously mutilating her and leaving her helpless to even cry for help might possibly be a beautiful act to them. Yes, considering the fact that it was inhumane and without a conscience, I somehow believe that the more they tortured her, the more they became more self-obsessed on making her “more beautiful.” Why I say this is because, on the first few days, all they did was rape her. But as the days passed, the deeds they committed were much more extreme and morbid to consider.

So I come back to my point again, that eventhough many people, young and old, rich or poor, many consider this act to be sick and ruthless. However a rising but still refuted few like me think more of the contradiction and that it was beautiful acts like this that ended off Junko Furata’s life.

2010-01-25T21:43:00.001+08:00

i need to do something with my hair.

2010-01-24T21:41:00.000+08:00

I’m always torn between wanting to tell my story to let them know exactly what is in my head and keeping it to myself. The problem is being outwardly unhappy and consistently so pushes people away, no matter if they say they’re always there to listen there is only so much even your best friends can listen too. On the other hand to pretend that everything is fine is to poison yourself from the inside out; it is to ignore who you are and lose yourself. So which is better? To have friends that think you are melodramatic and pessimistic or to drown in your own mind? I honestly don’t know.

~excerpt from another day.

2010-01-20T21:32:00.000+08:00

apparently, they started shooting the thor movie already. rad.

imagination.

2010-01-19T21:46:00.004+08:00

Every now and then,
I like to try to imagine a color, an image, a scene; i've never seen before.
I've never once told myself it's impossible and stopped there to come back to reality.
Can I find it if i go far enough between the colors of the rainbow?
Can I find it if i stir together drops of paint like i did, when i was younger?
I never thought i'm trying hard enough.
Once you think that, you will never try again, right?
Or so they say.
I like to try imagining the new set of eyes I would need in order to see my inner tunnels of my mind.
Or even better, to imagine the never-before-seen-world in which I would find this color.
Could you even begin to imagine a world completely swallowed up in this new color?

How then, would we use it?
How would everyone celebrate this presence?
Even God would take it for granted, i guess.
It's hard to get excited for something you already know can't possibly exist, even in any of the vast pockets of your imagination.
Its like hitting a wall.
The single bleak gray wall that marks the boundary of everything you can possibly think of.
It reeks of asphalt, covered in dents that mark the last time you attempted to scratch through.

Not that I'd like to imagine, anyway.
I like to imagine myself walking alone with my hand dragging along the walls that keep me from knowing.
I like to imagine that one day, I'd finally be able to take a peek on the other side of my mind.
I'd think i'd be happy for myself when that day comes.
At least, i imagine i'd be anyway.

P.s : this is for both our imaginations. our fears. and our majestic list of similarity of course.

2010-01-18T23:25:00.002+08:00

Gossip.

2010-01-18T00:09:00.004+08:00

2010-01-16T17:48:00.000+08:00

2010-01-13T20:37:00.002+08:00

i beg to differ but i feel the conscious choices we make are what honestly defines us even in the heat of the situation. see many people would leave it to chance and that stuff happened because they couldn't foresee what was going to happen and blame chance for affecting them and in turn thrusting a cycle which makes them change. i learnt about unpredictability today and it made me realise that the things happened by chance have a certain pattern to it. either you deserve it or you're a lucky bastard. see chance doesn't favour who over whoever. it just comes, blows your socks away and then leaves as quick as it came, like it was never there in the first place eventhough the impact of the change rockets you to extreme change. it does change a variety of things but there is no reason to blame chance wouldn't it? it's not like chance was ever a person you loved with your heart only to have them backstab. or better yet, force you to backstab them.

so that's why, i believe that if someone gets affected and in turn changes, then it's because of the choices they make, consciously at that. usually has two paths, like we don't know that but see what really changes a person is the path they take. no, it's not about right or wrong but rather, if the route chosen will benefit you in every way or destroy you completely. it's the conscious choices we make that turns us over and guts us out and twists our hearts deep into a million knots till you forget who you were before. i never expected that i'd prefer clubbing to moshing, wear skate shoes, have another brotherhood i can call my own, or maybe even discard the people who actually do care for me. maybe even life i'm leading now, might be because of how badly i failed my o'levels 2 years back. if only, i had become diligent. but no, this isn't about regrets but rather how each choice you take only serves to push you away further from your comfort zone and push you into someone you'd now recognize in the mirror and say, wtf! that's not me.

but i won't take it out and say that it is a sad case completely and the simple solution is to just change back. but like they say, it's easier said than done. somehow it's all a journey of choices or so i believe. you can't run away from destiny after all. but see, you can change the fate. escape it's clutches. that's simple don't it. do the exact opposite of what your heart desires, cos they say the heart is always to blame. the heart takes you out of your comfort zone. but i think the contrary, because the mind is evolved from intelligence and it serves no emotions. cos i believe that the choices we make, consciously that is, have a certain emotional trigger to it and the more a choice affects us, that's the one we'd take. it's a fact though. all i'm saying is that unpredictability should never be blamed on the account of the choices you make. agree?

2010-01-12T23:18:00.003+08:00

2010-01-11T22:22:00.004+08:00

sitting by the steps and smoking our lungs away,
secrets started pouring about a life that is already filled with lies.
what is yours is only yours to believe.
deception is the true game here.
trust me or walk away.

2010-01-09T22:50:00.005+08:00

What do you think of male species who have something up their sleeves when they help us women? In a way, they expect us to return them their huge/small favour by agreeing to their commands or we will be deemed as ungrateful little bitches. But they keep those big fat dreams in their puny mind. Because I am stuck in that situation. And it is a very unpleasant spot to be in.

- Ms. Fhy's Wordpress.

P.s : i find this, perhaps an interesting case to comment upon. no, i'm not ditching the boy's side of things, but my goal is to ask myself even, if i do such things without even realising that i'm doing them in the first place? wait, there are instances we actually do know what we are doing, but see that's the way we've been all this time right?

we can't help, but to be a shoulder or a listening ear. we love to hear your troubles, eventhough how irritating the fact that it might even be possibly be of another guy who's so perfect, but ending up giving you a headache, or something of that state. but all we need in return is comfort, that we are reassured, because we have insecurities too nonetheless. we don't want to be the guy, you call or IM just to throw and dump your problems at, the end of the day. we might not enjoy the fact that we're being consciously being ropped into the problems of "a teenage chick game show", although we indeed love the fact that we are your guy for that particular reason still.

so what we are confused, puzzled, scared even about is the reality that if we hear your problems, we are pushed into the brothers/good friend/best buddie category. see the reason we want to hear your problems might or might not be intended purposely, but we want to see a sign that let's see we fall head over heels after being absorbed into your lives, we are appreciated for the fact that we have an equal chance to be the guy that becomes the thing you girls obsess and talk about.

we're excited at the same time frightened, that if we make a wrong move, we won't be a part of your life anymore and the potential door to your heart be shut forever and ever. well what i can positively say is that we don't expect much. really that's how it's been with me or rather an average guy. all we expect and sometimes fiercely demand is appreciation and just the fact that if we ask you out to coffee, we get an equal shot like any other hot, cute handsome guy. that's all there is to it basically. we can come off as rough, demanding, arrogant whilst doing so, but at the end of the day all we are looking for is that perfect girl in our lives. the one perhaps.

2010-01-07T21:56:00.002+08:00

as you might have guessed it because of all of them videos i posted, after much deliberation and intense long conversations with confusion and the fact that it's FUCKING Hayley Williams, we decided to go ahead and get our tickets. true we've been having the money in special compartments in our wallets since december, but the final judgment just arrived. so as we were heading to northpoint, opposite the triumph store and infront of the E2 store. wait is it me, or was the sistic booth purposely put right in the middle? anyways, the moment we had them tickets in our hands, i swear i wish i could tell you how we felt, but describing it, we had halos literally pasted on top of our heads like a big cartoon drawing. oh man, the overbearing protection we had for these pieces of paper was amazing. finding the perfect spots to place our tickets in our bag so they won't get crumpled. well fuck everything else. WE ARE PARAMORE. enough said.

2010-01-07T00:15:00.001+08:00

2010-01-05T22:13:00.001+08:00

2010-01-04T23:38:00.002+08:00

two movies. two worlds. one pure entertainment ride.

2010-01-04T00:14:00.001+08:00

2010-01-03T21:58:00.003+08:00

i've been going out everyday for the past week and fortunately for me, tomorrow is going to be the start of another 5 weeks of intense madness. torture more like it with saying bye bye to too many things i've grown to love during the holidays.

bye bye, late nights.
bye bye, facebook chats at 5am
bye bye, calls that last all night.
bye bye, screwing up my diet with sugar and everything oily.
bye bye, relaxed days where plans come to me.
bye bye, using the laptop the whole day, surfing the net without even eating. or bathing.hahs
bye bye, exploring singapore with my best mates.
bye bye, nights of clubbing..
bye bye, cooking.
bye bye, to intense DOTA.
bye bye to waking up at 4pm and napping at 4.30pm.
bye bye to having gossip girl marathons.
bye bye to going to the gym 3 times a week.
by bye to sketching and creating experimental art.
bye bye to picking up the guitar and jamming to old school rock.

2010-01-03T11:37:00.001+08:00

that's a nuclear explosion.

2010-01-02T23:58:00.003+08:00

so everyone has been asking me what my new year's resolutions are for like the millionth time today and my answer was always the same standard answer. i should have a recorder so that i can play it every year. but that being besides the point said to everyone i don't really make resolutions. they asked me why? i replied that if making resolutions is so important to everyone, then why are they always being neglected, let's say two weeks roughly after being made? and no i don't mean to criticise the people who actually keep to their resolutions but most of us, come and face the facts, will be too busy with life and forget about what they so were so haste to make every new year. well that applies to me too. but i told every single one of them that i make goals. no, not ambitions, not dreams but promises. promises to myself, to my family, to my friends. well you could counter-argue that having a realistic resolution is a promise nonetheless. but promise is a big word, and having a goal that promises results and success is another totally different matter afterall. so let me start with my promises. yes and no, i may not be able to complete them, but you can't break an aspiring man. i've decided that these should be my top priorities in no particular order.

complete, i mean complete the 5 weeks left in my year one modules.
writing my unfathomable words into a chapter.
never to lose the original me ever again.
join sports and yes, to lose the bubbling fats that are so apparent on my waist.
explore music's inner sanctum.
obtaining more clothes so that ms farzira cannot keep track and remember what clothes i actually have and wear.
to lie, cheat and be selfish because i've decided that this world is just not worth it to be good.
to search out the people who are the real friends that have always stood by me despite everything and apologise to them of my ignorance.
play my life with risks.
exposing ms suria to a more out of this world rockshow.
locking my heart into a chest and burying it far away, on isla cruces perhaps.
forget becoming a big brother who gives advice because it's just the same bitter routine.
become every woman's perfect beautiful disorder.
to never trust a person easily, no matter how much they always seem to rub faerie dust on your shoulders.
to be the perfect person for my significant half who shares half a brain with me, you know how you are.
start writing songs again and now, giving life to them.
letting history repeat itself, so that this time, i'd be ready to face the nightmares head on.
emerging as the bookworm i always was.
shocking everyone every step of the way.
becoming the first guy to be a walking encyclopedia on gossip girl.
controlling outbursts and emotions that can be used against me.
revenge. i want the head on a silver platter.
get recruited in the inner circle.
make things right and just with everyone i misunderstood and unforgivingly decided to give a pass.
waking up each day with an overdose.

2010-01-02T00:16:00.003+08:00

P.s : obviously, the writer is a fanatically inclined genius who can put feelings into words. makes you think that the pen is indeed mightier than the sword, or rather in this case, the internet. but still, i couldn't resist you see. why? simple. i'm not over his death plain simple. not for a very long time i'll get over him i expect but still what can we do right? the angel of death descends only to claim and pry the ones we love right from under our noses. that being mentioned, decided that i'm going to live my life the way i want it. not the way people want me to be, expect me to be. i've decided the only way to really find myself back and become the familiar person that everyone knows me as, is to become the change. not wait for it. why all this talk all of a sudden. because i just realised that a very close person to me, close being an understatment because we share two halfs of each other's brain literally once told me in an IM conversation that she didn't know me anymore. which only leads to me wishfully thinking, why did i change? obviously it's to adapt no less and to impress everyone i must believe. but heck, that didn't work out that well in the end you see. because the people that really truly matter to you all left, one by one. stonestep by stonestep. and all for what? so that i could fit in? see a rock kid isn't much to impress but hey, i wanna change. and all this because The Rev died. now see how affected i am.

oh and kudos to fhy for sniffing out pure brilliance. that's what i call, intuition. oh and if the words are too small, just log onto my facebook page and you'd get the clearer picture. yes and screw blogspot.hehs. the rocker is back for good metal-heads. stay tuned to more rampage.

2010

2010-01-01T12:48:00.005+08:00

as the end of another old year draws to a close,
i'd like to take a moment to list down all the things i'm thankful for.

i'm thankful that no matter how dark things might get, old friendships can still be rekindled.
i'm thankful for new relationships that help us realise how far we've come from who we were.
and how close we can get when we are really being ourselves.

but the thing i'm most thankful for is that, even on the most newly refreshed of days, people can still do something unforgivable.

yes, we all may forgive, but forgetting is another totally different matter.
happy new year everybody.

signed, stealed and delivered.
xoxo

2009-12-29T23:31:00.002+08:00

According to Kerrang!, Avenged Sevenfold drummer James Owen 'The Rev' Sullivan was found dead in his Huntingdon Beach home yesterday (December 28) at approximately 1pm PST. He was 28 years old.

The Orange County Coroner's Office is currently investigating his death, but at this stage it is thought Sullivan died of natural causes.

"It is with great sadness and heavy hearts that we tell you of the passing today of Jimmy “The Rev” Sullivan," reads an official statement from the band. "Jimmy was not only one of the world’s best drummers, but more importantly he was our best friend and brother. Our thoughts and prayers go out to Jimmy’s family and we hope that you will respect their privacy during this difficult time. Jimmy you are forever in our hearts. We love you."

Kerrang!'s thoughts are with Sullivan's friends and family at this sad time.

P.s : i made this collage because i have so many pictures of him, and he didn't get to pass on with a bang, like we all wanted so i thought of making this. well all i can say it was sec 3 when i first Clairvoyant Disease and Bat Country and as the rif-raf solos and the hardcore drum beats rang into my brain, all i knew is that that was the time where i would get totally addicted to this band. and hours pondering why they named themselves A7X were essential as well as hours spent wasted looking and buying every Avenged tee ever created, believe me i have all of them and i want to pin them up someday. well the moment i woke up to Fhy's text that The Rev had died, the realisation took me a few minutes to really seep in to my crevices. but the moment it did, i ran all around the house and screamed at the top of my lungs and told everyone, even the chinese aunty slash neighbour. i was even wearing my legendary Avenged tee that i would always wear everywhere. and he was the ultimate reason why i actually got interested in drumming in the first place. after hours jamming the band's songs and actually making us go all the way to audition for a big big competition, i had it all figured out. become a vocalist and then move my passion to drumming. oh and he was the motivation i joined Beats Encore, and become a percussionist for events.

RIP. i loved you. never will stop loving you. Avenged Sevenfold will forever be my most favourite band in the whole wide world.

2009-12-29T08:36:00.006+08:00

2009-12-29T01:11:00.001+08:00

So give me something to believe
Cause I am living just to breathe

And I need something more
To keep on breathing for

So give me something to believe.

~the bravery

2009-12-28T10:43:00.000+08:00

whoever said rebel don't come in small sizes?

2009-12-26T23:48:00.002+08:00

tampines one, tampines mall and century square
a struggle to find the correct entrance.
popeye's louisiana kitchen.
large milo and obsessive compulsiveness on finishing lunch.
bridal gowns.
one, just one ladies' toilet.
failed attempt to watch a movie.
hunting for a measure of a man.
self-discovery books.
D&G parfume testing.
making fools at times bookshop.
sidney portier being an african american writer, very surprising indeed.
sales assistant smitten with love, delivering another title but reserving the original.
flipping through desserts that weren't actually the real craving.
deciding that aunty anne's pretzel would beat gourmet cheesecake.
oh, and lying we were 16 and just about to take our o' levels in the future year.

but the highlight of the day has just got to be a cinnamon sugar and caramel almond pretzels, nibbling oh so joyously letting the sugar crumble all over your clothes and smearing it on your fingers where you can just lick after every bite. and relaxing on the upper east side steps and just having meaningful conversations about practically everything. repeat everything. well i'm glad i can open up and just talk what on my mind for days. anyways it was a great day. indeed we didn't chill out, but you gave me a choice! but still after everything, even at this point. i never felt more or less, okay more contented with sharing with someone.

and the fact that i had been searching for something for your upcoming birthday makes it all the more right if i said. okay i thought against it. but yeah. you'll know on thursday was it?

an hour's ride home.
belle de nui fragrance.
black velvet tie.
androciena custom suit. rented of course.
dark myth lounge.
spawns of aspiring writers.
publishers and status.
and as such then, the clock had to eventually strike 9.
party. party. party.
sophisticated women adorning vera wang and louboutin heels.
okay i decline to comment on the liquor but class is the right word.
oh and the invitation to live in style and dine with exquisite flavour.
well, a chance to get sponsorships and add a ton to my contact list was very appreciated.
it was a real great day.

2009-12-23T23:04:00.005+08:00

okay i'm going to be killed the moment she sees this. oh fcuk.oops.hehs.

2009-12-23T20:11:00.000+08:00

Let's Put Tomorrow In A Bottle.

2009-12-22T23:32:00.003+08:00

okay this candid shot, made Blair and me laugh and smile at each other. particularly the sticker i put on, essentially made us blow up in fits of laughter. i guess the past always has ways to remind us.

2009-12-22T15:27:00.001+08:00

2009-12-21T23:41:00.002+08:00

so last night's topic was acceptance Vs conforming. well it's been ages sinhce i last talked on the phone on a topic that was actually meaningful. plus the fact that i haven't had a decent conversation since eons, i decide to really put my english cap on and start with acronyms and valuable vocabulary. anyways we talked like we were from the upper east side and it was actually refreshing to hear someone who had equal wavelengths and the powerful grammar that was shocking. soas her sweet but sometimes exceedingly whiny and irritating to an insatiable exent voice rang through my skull like a couple of shells, i couldn't help but wonder how we even got to this point. sure E3 was the most awesome block, happening even of you could put it. but i never actually remembered how i was able to strike up any conversation. see she was the wild beauty that everyone actually loved after knowing her of course. picture a chick with a striped jacket every single screaming your name out and suddenly drenching you with whatever she had at that time in her hand. so yeah, getting to know her was essential i believe. however i was the contrary. i was the quiet, or so i must please believe, guy that was always passing by for a quick cig or something of that matter. but still in the eventual end, we are here talking, about things that pique both ur intrests and what sort of pertains to us in many ways in one. and i must say i enjoy her company in the late nights. i truly enjoy every moment of it. so i never knew what magic E3 has on individuals, nor do i want to find out, but i in some twisted way wish it never ceased to happen. meaning i want it to happen. and i'm glad that it did. because i'd never think in a million years that i would be tight bitches with a maniac who never fails to make me laugh, much less making me love everything about her.

2009-12-19T21:18:00.003+08:00

As the term suggests, women indeed are from Venus and men from a faraway planet called Mars. Not for the fact that they are just revolving around the earth second to fourth but indeed there are signs to say that the men are winning the fight. why i say this. well there are a few factors but first, why did the earth have to be in the middle? can't anybody see the irony in this? see maybe that's why there is a fight that has always been brewing since time even began. except for Adam and Eve. maybe they didn't fight. but then again, won't god's first children have so many imperfections and well it must be one hell of a quarrel if there was i guess.

So let me start. how can there be competition between charms and naivety? wittiness Vs spontaneous mumbling? testosterone Vs progesterone ? well this brings me to a conversation i had with a friend this week. see my friend, a hapless female was very much in love with a boy, obviously was cast aside after a very enjoyable encounter whilst they were working at the science centre. well boy meets girl, boy asks girl out and blah blah. but somehow it ended, and no, i'm not cruel to ask how it ended, much less who ended it. well to summarize, boy went out with other girls and was soon forgotten by my friend, which wasn't so easy since he was always there like some ghost from the past. but she took it in her stride to carry on with her life to get over him and did exceptionally well in her tests and such genericity. wait is that even a word? anyways he showed up after 6 months of serving his NS and text-ed her whilst being in a screwed up relationship with her sister's, yes sister's bestfriend. yeah you get my point. anyways the moment he text-ed her, all that work of putting her heart in Davy Jone's Locker and shutting it down in the deepest abyss pretty much boiled up and it came up to a point where it all over-poured and she stood staring at her phone screen like a goldfish and that's when everything came back to her. well what can you say then that even a normal thing like a text message can make your heart pound faster than it ever has been and make you go all ga-ga over a couple of words that never will make sense in your head. well i exaggerated but yeah, that's pretty much the story. now see the power these males have?

I'm not picking a side, eventhough i'm a guy because i look like one but i sort of in a strange warped way understand how a girl feels, with all my undue experience of course, so i don't know what you would call me but this epic battle had me thinking what if it never ends? okay that would be just fine. because of the fact that we are having this fight, things are going to be normal and there will never be a change that really affects us all. but let's say what if one side won? now how would that be? well worst case scenario, the whole damn world will be in turmoil and if them ladies won, shoe and make-up boutiques would be at every street corner. and if them men won, well let's say that's another matter altogether. so it has made me come to a conclusion, that the way things are, i appreciate this reality, that they remain this way. well thankful even since both teams would be balanced and let's rest my case with the fact that well hey, isn't fights and quarrels a good way of ending any strain, getting back together, making up and making love beside the fireplace after an extreme make out and a hot cup of cocoa plus marshmallows during this Christmas season?

P.s : anyways i want to wish everyone an advanced Merry Christmas and to all of them unlucky bastards who are feeling down in the dumps, well stay positive because you never know what the future holds, let it be one day, six months or even a year, but still i assure things will change. they indeed will because, who likes a stagnant, routinal life eh? plus i know for a fact that the life that the gods created for us should and will involve chaos and problems. oh now i want one?! yeah right. let them find you. don't go looking for them. trust me.

2009-12-18T12:32:00.001+08:00

Shadows Are Security.

2009-12-17T21:57:00.002+08:00

Ed Westwick & Leighton Meester - Gap Photoshoot.

P.s : look at the intense look in their eyes. that inseparable bond. nothing says passion and love like they both do. laced with a little fun and a frisky night too, i suppose. nothing says Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf like together forever. damn i wish i had a girl i could love like this. that same girl who'd make me angry and laugh at the same time. hahs. i love wishful thinking.

2009-12-16T23:26:00.003+08:00

She likes to draw figures in the dust that acumulates slowly on the window.
It is so grey and brown and coils up forcefully beneath the tips of her fingers.
Sometimes this breaks the cobwebs aligned by her.
Catching the shells of flies and mites and dreams,
She screams up against the pane and as it's double-paned, it holds strong.
Murdering her creation of noise and life and lust.

The walls are off-white, purple or pink or something so close it just barely ticks about inside her head and only then when the dust changes.
If she had paint she would splash everything.
Over everything would it bleed profusely.
Creation however, breeds like cancerous cells within.
And she watches the DNA replicate.
Somewhere deep inside she sees how the colours change.
But her sound, her gasps, it dangerously caught up and pulls so at her chest.

Sometimes she digs deep to get it out,but not for long, actually has it worked.
The world does not like such things, you see.
Though the noise is loud, louder and until she doesn't know how to take it in anymore.
Until it just blinds and shattersher mind.
White white white and more white washed.
Just like how she wishes the walls would be.
They defy her askance, they deny her request but she has nothing in return, to trade for.
So she understands if it just complies wthout complications instead.

But the dust is so beautiful she cries some days,when she ruins it with her fingertips.
Her pictures do not give it justice, she does not think about skills or knowledge.
Some days, she avoids thinking altogether.
It piles thick against her walls, piles dense and true and real.
And it is the reality of it that strikes so deep and painful.
The need to share is so strong.
But no one believes in her reality.
And as the cobwebs ge crushed, clinging beneath her nails again,
She wonders how to tell their stories.

P.s : this was what i conjured up when i was alone in starbucks for two hours. there's more where that came from. infact from a binded purple-paged notebook i titled my dreams. yes, she was my classmate and yes, she wasn't always down-to-earth, but somehow her spacing off during classes such as chemistry and history, provided me an insight to what she saw the world as. andso everyday, i would stay till the whole class left, and i went up to that windowsill and there i stood, admiring her works. usually random but mostly with double meanings. i never really expected to fall for masterpieces of art, much less her. then it striked me that i should pen my thoughts down.

anyways, i would like to thank my inspirations, most often from anything from the girl next door to the canisters of laughing gas to even pictures i usually view on deviantart and photobucket. it isn't hard, is it now, that i've made things a little easier for you?

2009-12-16T11:05:00.001+08:00

i haven't had a decent shut-eye up till now. i need sleep. i need a complete black hole in my head so i don't think.

2009-12-15T22:10:00.000+08:00

she walks among us, unseen and learning from our imperfections.

2009-12-13T21:24:00.024+08:00

and so it has come to pass that we had to pick on individual to lead our tribe and since he was the biggest among us, it was decided that he should be the leader. but hey, i believe in fate and you should to, cos the way i see it. he was meant to be a leader i guess. leading us before we entered sentosa, organising the survival objects of both digestion and shelter, we were all ready for anything because he thought about it before-hand. oh and he loves 66 cent crackers, whichever, pizza or prawn. but.wait. i haven't. so, his name is prasad ravena something something. well he's the coolest you see, because of the fact that he does not have FaceBook and that he is the indian version of the word, casanova. which so explains where our other casanova in the group got some of his tips. anyways with our database runnng dry on information, all we can say for now is that without him, we wouldn't be much that ready to face the storm that is titled the survivor series.

i'd like to start off by introducing. oh man this picture sure as hell cracks me up big time. look at that smile. and the red bull singlet. and oh the velcro strap stolen off somewhere. and the pouring water that comes out at the left of the picture. oh well, controlling fits of my laughter, i'd like to introduce this jester slash clown slash joker of our tribe, Mr. Melvin Ravena Han. one of the two melvins, both from worlds apart of course. this guyy here brings the life to all our parties, outings and well everything he does cracks up the tribe big time. this well-built but getting put down by a girl is into everything that ensuates life such as his mega passion for fulfilling his dream to be a DJ as well as into being a lethal snake that never strikes twice has also joined up muay thai and well i'll tell you one thing. so listen up. never judge a book by it's cover. he's a fine example of that happening. all i know is that without him, we wouldn't even be a hell of a tribe.

so this is what happened during the ravena's gone wild adventure series.as we headed to sentosa, despite the extremly unforseen black clouds and acknowledging the future that it was going to be a rainy day, 5 individuals with different backgrounds all united for one cause treaded through sand and the sentosa train to reach our first destination which was siloso beach to partly view the new wavehouse as well as to digest our KFC black pepper chicken buddy meal. however seeing that the whole place was crowded beyond anything, we hitched the tram all the way to palawan beach and that is the beginning of the bonding of a new tribe.

so whilst waiting for the really really slow tram-i mean snail slow, we had ourselves some cigs and posed for the already dying DSLR camera.

so starting off, this is Mr.Dinie Ravena Azfar. seeing from his stern expression here, you'd know he's not the one to play with. but when he's really in a good mood, he'l get down to it with his absolute maniacal jokes and stunts. how about sitting on a giant ball and pretending it's a motorcycle with sounds included? or maybe, baring your ass when the camera is pointed to you? well it's all this jack-ass stunts that made us choose him in the first place. not to forget he's a good source if you want Winston Reds.

so here we are pledging to our cause that we as brothers will always stay as one and as one tribe defeat anything that stands in our way. oh yes, we're missing someone. the cameraman of course. how could we forget him? but i'll give him a proper introduction later.

so the moment we set the ball down on the sand, vietnamese people swarmed from nowhere, i'm guessing the waters and challenged us to a friendly game of the world's best sport. you guessed it. soccer. and as we trashed them 4-1, all that was running through our heads were that there is indeed one language in the world. soccer. we all speak that one language. we all feel that language. and the enjoyment and bonding it brings us, only soccer can do that. oh and another thing, we ravenas always knew we were meant for greatness. and this so a rematch between singapore and vietnam. oh definitely this one.

so our next memeber, would be the all time romantic ladies man slash casanova slash rich boy slash St.Andrews Rugger slash the one who is always informed and the original organiser of our little tribe outing. Mr.Melvin Ravena Lim. well with his chiselled good looks and his outstanding motor skills in sports, no wonder the ladies swoon and flock over to him. but despite his exterior, he is actually vulnerable and a softie at heart. plus we don't know much about his past, making him all the more irresistable for wanting him in the tribe. let's see if this cool kid has what it takes to stay in the tribe, shall we?

and so, this rough looking fellow is Mr.Daobin Ravena KickS, the cameraman. well what we have in our database is that he was once a skater-boy with inhuman running skills. imagine a lightning flash. but recently, well maybe for the past three years, he had suddenly one day, found a room after rounds at the stadium and thus the result is what you can already see. that humongous body and piercings with a DSLR round his neck and helmet in one hand and bike keys in another. this man is never to be messed with. never. but like all fierce people, if you get on his good side. then you know you're always going to be protected. plus it dosen't hurt to have an ally that is well-rounded on your side. the oldest in the group and probably the wisest. a yes for us and a no for the jocks.

so as the rain poured, and the tide crashed against the shore, and all we had was a small hut, huddled together smoking cigs to keep us warm as well as eating chips and 66 cents crackers as well as getting drunk on a variety of soft drinks, we had a truly survivor experience with the raindrops sputtering our faces and the sand sinking in with the force of our legs. nobody really expected it to be easy, but we came through together like tribesmen and we weathered the storm.literally.

the moment the rain stopped, it was highly likely that all we needed to bring back our spirits alive again and trigger our passion was just, yes you guessed right. soccer. this time we played among ourselves and this time the losing team had to do a forfeit. so anyone up for guessing the right forfeit? we'll place bets here. at the survivor betting booth of course.

the losing team had to jump inside the icy cold waters of sentosa and wallow in with the salt-water until our fingers became wrinkly. ah yes, the classic getting wet forfeit, its classy still because most of us went in with all our garments and luckily for us, none of them garments resurfaced without a body part attached to it. get my meaning? well it dosen't matter because eventually we all got wet. what is survivor if you don't get wet right?!

and so after a successful and rewarding day with the brothers, we left the beach at 8 to grab a quick shower and as we exited sentosa to grab a bus-ride back to Vivocity, some of us wanted to entertain the already bored crowd waiting for the bus. so we put up a show, the national player, the ite semei forward and the casanova playman, they did stunt after stunt and the rest? well we decided to appreciate the show from the stands and take pictures. well soon after, some african-americans joined us to further entertain the crowd, which were mostly kids,moms and maids as well as a splash of dragonboat guys. or were they water polo guys? well anyways we wow-ed them and at last before parting we took this photo as a memory keepsakes. which brings me to another point of why is there an anamoly on my face? why my face? anyways i like the fact that again i'm the hidden one. serves a good purpose don't it. espicially as i'm the narrator.

well soon after, we parted to our ways, where some of us left for home and others left to have meetings with the opposite sex. well we're men. noway can we take it if we don't get to see our girls atleast once a day. and a day like this so takes the bait. yes the truth is ugly but true. we men need women. however some of the brothers would beg to differ. scoops in that their goals are to get a bike and find more brothers. well that's going to make our tribe complete won't it.

so i'll conclude this episode of the amazing survivor series. oh and incase you were wondering, the name's Fadhil Raverna Varkatsazs. oh and that's a mister to you. till later folks. same time. same channel.

2009-12-13T12:21:00.000+08:00

One Good Scandal Deserves Another.

2009-12-12T20:01:00.002+08:00

as per, by someone's request of me doing this personality test, these are my results.

http://www.ipersonic.com/type/SR.html

P.s : it was great having that chat with you, espicially after too long. i made a promise to not reveal anything. so i'm stopping.right.about.now.

2009-12-12T00:43:00.004+08:00

WHY ?

Yes, Flower Prints.

2009-12-11T21:39:00.009+08:00

so i have been, for hours, add that to my record, trying to find a perfect wallpaper for my overly-loved laptop which i have so postively burst the hard-drive out and has so many viruses, i intend to clean them out somehow before the holidays. but still i have to find a suitable wallpaper design and yes, i know it's all flowery and floral-ish patterns but hey, i've always had an eye for style. class and sophistication is so my thing. i've learnt that to be aka lonley boy, you gotta obsess about wallpapers and such.hehs.

P.s : Fhy made it an obligation to have a chat with me, and as, i was programmed to do, i cracked her up as well as played mind games with her. who said that old friendships never come back? well who ever said that obviously had half of his brain stolen. anyways we're having a war. she' being bella and i'm being chuck bass. well the story goes on, i guess.

2009-12-10T21:18:00.003+08:00

see the reason i'm always tried to make an effort to make things work is because i've done so many mistakes in my past. we don't even really need to go that far. after being exiled for a year and then being re-introduced to common society, well it had it's highs at first, but i soon realised that the reason i was exiled was because i'm different. and heck no, atleast secondary school was better. however it was a different case-scenario altogether. okay we all expect a polytechnic to have some standard and you need to re-vamp yourself before going in to face your future 3 years. well i did, atleast i tried to. discarded them band tees and skinny jeans and studded belts of sorts as well as my arm-length full of leather bracelets. yes i did make an effort. but you know what i realised after what, 6 months? that i had indeed lost my identity. no, i didn't have to actually wear black and sling a guitar bag over my shoulders every single day. plus the guyliner that was always in my wallet. no not that, but i actually felt comfortable with who i was potraying. see when i first arrived, i was the rockster, the metal kid with earphones blasting early in the frigging morning in the lift and i liked the fact.

well you know what they always say right? with great changes, come great responsibility and at first i was glad that i was changing. not only in the music sense, but fashion sense as well. yes i know i took fashion designing, but i wasn't always in the right state of mind to-actually-bring-my work home. i guess it has to start somewhere right? and it did in baby steps, thank god. i can still remember having a thousand bucks thrusted in my hand and being abandoned in Vivocity. you would have guessed it by now and yes, i was a peninsula-haji lane-queensway fashion kid which extra-ordinarily will be called a scene kid,among other terms but hey i'm not complainng of that fact. anyways as i walked through the whole mall, i couldn't help but to feel like i was comitting a mistake that i never really could rewind. well that and the fact that was how i found espirit, topman, pull-and-bear, zara and so much more. you could never know how much i learnt of fashion that day and you'd prolly would not have believed me either.

so as i wore new clothes and walked down the hallways of RP, i couldn't help but notice that people, everyone actually dressed all the same. and how we all traded secrets on which fashion was the most hip and the blah blah blah. then i did something i'm never goig to be proud of-ever. just two weeks ago, i traded my converse-yes my comfortable converse which was a must for a rock kid and were the most iconic shoes, with a pair of mean looking macbeths. well i knew what they were, but i never really had the desire to buy them. so thus i threw 90 bucks for what. all because i wanted to fit in with the band of brothers who supposedly was always going to be there. but the converse which served me faithfully for the past three years and had seen everything with me?! now i'm just cruel.

another change i apparently made was my music choices, before entering RP, i never really entered a club before and well i used to find the music irritating and annoying. okay i see the irony already but yes, trance, electronica, dance-pop and hip hop. i mean come on! hip hop?! isn't it a rule that every rocker should never go to the other side? well obviously i did. so there i was every friday night partying my arse off with girls on each side instead of heading to the esplanade for the friday night jam with my buddies as a ritual sake. well they called me, but after a while they got the idea that i moved on. where were the gigs i desired and what happened to the moshing i so loved? where was the sweat and muddy shoes and izwan grabbing my shirt and jumping around with me? i lost myself.

fcuk i missed all what i used to be. initially i thought change was good, but i realised that i wasn't really happy anymore. i felt like i was part of the human fashion flesh crowd who love labels and live in the upper-east side of town and were singapore's elite. well today i made change. not change forward but change backward. i surfed youtube vids of drum and guitar covers, playing metal on my itunes which i so have neglected. oh and the rifs and solos were sweet nectar dripping in my ear. god the intense drum beats and the scratchy vocals, somethings in life will never change, i swear. anyways i decided to eliminate change before i become someone totally new, although i think i have. but, i mean just last week, my best friend didn't recognise me anymore. so ive decided that the only way is to start from the basics, and that is to not meet up with the brothers and stay really silent in class and think of stuff in my head instead of using it with my mouth. and i don't appreciate the lonliness but hey, it's a small step. and i just joined my ex-school buddies to complete a band and we've been jamming loads. yes, it is very akward, very very akward with my labels and them with the whole outfit that would have never amount to a 100 bucks. but the whole point of this was to let you guys judge how many mistakes i've made. and we haven't even gone to love. and i'm never really going to stop if i start.hehs.

anyways i'm not indifferent, i'm just different. i hate the fact that i need to be like everyone else,
fashion and music aside. i don't need to fit in with everyone. but i appreciate the fact that atleast this change made me realise that i need to slow it down. but you know what, i don't think i'll ever revert to who i was before, cos i've had a taste of the elite. so nope, i won't be fully gone and i'll resurface. i sure as hell will. i'll be back.

P.s : for the record, i miss Ms Fhy. no not because we have history. no wait we do have history. not in the way you guys imagine it to be, well it would be a nice dream actually. okay no back, yes i miss her company. and she was the only anchor i needed to pull me down to earth and no matter who i tried to be, she'd always see the real me so i never really had any difficulties showing her my real everything. okay wait that sounded wrong.ahh.okay well we used to talk. and talk is not even the word. even a year wouldn't be enough for us to complete anything and everything we started talking about. well i miss how i could tell her everything and okay secrets aside, i used to have this fascination that she would be my best friend in the whole world that i could tell anything to. anyways we lost contact or atleast she is always always always busy but i'm sure she'll read this when she's free and i bet you a million bucks, before you know it, we'd be in a corner at the library and making fun of the library aunty in orange and talking about everything. those were the good times eh fhy?!

2009-12-09T22:07:00.000+08:00

the furthest thing from the truth.

2009-12-09T19:18:00.002+08:00

Blake Lively, Marie Claire, December 2009.

p.s : okay i'm officially hooked to GG. this is such a sad tale. that i'm turning to this show for my addiction needs.hehs. love it okay. i swear i do.

2009-12-08T21:02:00.001+08:00

all the ways you wished you could be, that's me.

2009-12-08T14:02:00.002+08:00

The Bravery - Believe

P.s : So give me something to believe. Cause I am living just to breathe.

2009-12-07T19:22:00.001+08:00

Guts by Chuck Palahniuk

2009-12-07T15:12:00.005+08:00

Inhale.

Take in as much air as you can.

This story should last about as long as you can hold your breath, and then just a little bit longer.

So listen as fast as you can.

A friend of mine, when he was thirteen years old he heard about “pegging.” This is when a guy gets banged up the butt with a dildo. Stimulate the prostate gland hard enough, and the rumor is you can have explosive hands-free orgasms. At that age, this friend’s a little sex maniac. He’s always jonesing for a better way to get his rocks off. He goes out to buy a carrot and some petroleum jelly. To conduct a little private research. Then he pictures how it’s going to look at the supermarket checkstand, the lonely carrot and petroleum jelly rolling down the conveyer belt toward the grocery store cashier. All the shoppers waiting in line, watching. Everyone seeing the big evening he has planned.

So, my friend, he buys milk and eggs and sugar and a carrot, all the ingredients for a carrot cake. And Vaseline.

Like he’s going home to stick a carrot cake up his butt.

At home, he whittles the carrot into a blunt tool. He slathers it with grease and grinds his ass down on it. Then, nothing. No orgasm. Nothing happens except it hurts.
Then, this kid, his mom yells it’s suppertime. She says to come down, right now.
He works the carrot out and stashes the slippery, filthy thing in the dirty clothes under his bed.

After dinner, he goes to find the carrot and it’s gone. All his dirty clothes, while he ate dinner, his mom grabbed them all to do laundry. No way could she not find the carrot, carefully shaped with a paring knife from her kitchen, still shiny with lube and stinky.

This friend of mine, he waits months under a black cloud, waiting for his folks to confront him.

And they never do. Ever. Even now he’s grown up, that invisible carrot hangs over every Christmas dinner, every birthday party. Every Easter egg hunt with his kids, his parents’ grandkids, that ghost carrot is hovering over all of them.

That something too awful to name.

People in France have a phrase: “Spirit of the Stairway.” In French: Esprit de l’escalier. It means that moment when you find the answer, but it’s too late. Say you’re at a party and someone insults you. You have to say something. So under pressure, with everybody watching, you say something lame. But the moment you leave the party…

As you start down the stairway, then — magic. You come up with the perfect thing you should’ve said. The perfect crippling put-down.

That’s the Spirit of the Stairway.

The trouble is even the French don’t have a phrase for the stupid things you actually do say under pressure. Those stupid, desperate things you actually think or do.
Some deeds are too low to even get a name. Too low to even get talked about.

Looking back, kid-psych experts, school counselors now say that most of the last peak in teen suicide was kids trying to choke while they beat off. Their folks would find them, a towel twisted around the kid’s neck, the towel tied to the rod in their bedroom closet, the kid dead. Dead sperm everywhere. Of course the folks cleaned up. They put some pants on their kid. They made it look… better. Intentional at least. The regular kind of sad, teen suicide.

Another friend of mine, a kid from school, his older brother in the Navy said how guys in the Middle East jack off different than we do here. This brother was stationed in some camel country where the public market sells what could be fancy letter openers. Each fancy tool is just a thin rod of polished brass or silver, maybe as long as your hand, with a big tip at one end, either a big metal ball or the kind of fancy carved handle you’d see on a sword. This Navy brother says how Arab guys get their dick hard and then insert this metal rod inside the whole length of their boner. They jack off with the rod inside, and it makes getting off so much better. More intense.

It’s this big brother who travels around the world, sending back French phrases. Russian phrases. Helpful jack-off tips.

After this, the little brother, one day he doesn’t show up at school. That night, he calls to ask if

I’ll pick up his homework for the next couple weeks. Because he’s in the hospital.

He’s got to share a room with old people getting their guts worked on. He says how they all have to share the same television. All he’s got for privacy is a curtain. His folks don’t come and visit.

On the phone, he says how right now his folks could just kill his big brother in the Navy.
On the phone, the kid says how — the day before — he was just a little stoned. At home in his bedroom, he was flopped on the bed. He was lighting a candle and flipping through some old porno magazines, getting ready to beat off. This is after he’s heard from his Navy brother. That helpful hint about how Arabs beat off. The kid looks around for something that might do the job.
A ball-point pen’s too big. A pencil’s too big and rough. But dripped down the side of the candle, there’s a thin, smooth ridge of wax that just might work. With just the tip of one finger, this kid snaps the long ridge of wax off the candle. He rolls it smooth between the palms of his hands.

Long and smooth and thin.

Stoned and horny, he slips it down inside, deeper and deeper into the piss slit of his boner. With a good hank of the wax still poking out the top, he gets to work.
Even now, he says those Arab guys are pretty damn smart. They’ve totally re-invented jacking off. Flat on his back in bed, things are getting so good, this kid can’t keep track of the wax. He’s one good squeeze from shooting his wad when the wax isn’t sticking out anymore.

The thin wax rod, it’s slipped inside. All the way inside. So deep inside he can’t even feel the lump of it inside his piss tube.

From downstairs, his mom shouts it’s suppertime. She says to come down, right now. This wax kid and the carrot kid are different people, but we all live pretty much the same life.
It’s after dinner when the kid’s guts start to hurt. It’s wax so he figured it would just melt inside him and he’d pee it out. Now his back hurts. His kidneys. He can’t stand straight.

This kid talking on the phone from his hospital bed, in the background you can hear bells ding, people screaming. Game shows.

The X-rays show the truth, something long and thin, bent double inside his bladder. This long, thin V inside him, it’s collecting all the minerals in his piss. It’s getting bigger and more rough, coated with crystals of calcium, it’s bumping around, ripping up the soft lining of his bladder, blocking his piss from getting out. His kidneys are backed up. What little that leaks out his dick is red with blood.

This kid and his folks, his whole family, them looking at the black X-ray with the doctor and the nurses standing there, the big V of wax glowing white for everybody to see, he has to tell the truth. The way Arabs get off. What his big brother wrote him from the Navy.

On the phone, right now, he starts to cry.

They paid for the bladder operation with his college fund. One stupid mistake, and now he’ll never be a lawyer.

Sticking stuff inside yourself. Sticking yourself inside stuff. A candle in your dick or your head in a noose, we knew it was going to be big trouble.

What got me in trouble, I called it Pearl Diving. This meant whacking off underwater, sitting on the bottom at the deep end of my parents’ swimming pool. With one deep breath, I’d kick my way to the bottom and slip off my swim trucks. I’d sit down there for two, three, four minutes.
Just from jacking off, I had huge lung capacity. If I had the house to myself, I’d do this all afternoon. After I’d finally pump out my stuff, my sperm, it would hang there in big, fat, milky gobs.

After that was more diving, to catch it all. To collect it and wipe each handful in a towel. That’s why it was called Pearl Diving. Even with chlorine, there was my sister to worry about. Or,

Christ almighty, my Mom.

That used to be my worst fear in the world: my teenage virgin sister, thinking she’s just getting fat, then giving birth to a two-headed retard baby. Both heads looking just like me. Me, the father AND the uncle.

In the end, it’s never what you worry about that gets you.

The best part of Pearl Diving was the inlet port for the swimming pool filter and the circulation pump. The best part was getting naked and sitting on it.

As the French would say: Who doesn’t like getting their butt sucked?

Still, one minute you’re just a kid getting off, and the next minute you’ll never be a lawyer.

One minute, I’m settling on the pool bottom, and the sky is wavy, light blue through eight feet of water above my head. The world is silent except for the heartbeat in my ears. My yellow-striped swim trunks are looped around my neck for safe keeping, just in case a friend, a neighbor, anybody shows up to ask why I skipped football practice. The steady suck of the pool inlet hole is lapping at me and I’m grinding my skinny white ass around on that feeling.

One minute, I’ve got enough air, and my dick’s in my hand. My folks are gone at their work and my sister’s got ballet. Nobody’s supposed to be home for hours.

My hand brings me right to getting off, and I stop. I swim up to catch another big breath. I dive down and settle on the bottom.

I do this again and again.

This must be why girls want to sit on your face. The suction is like taking a dump that never ends. My dick hard and getting my butt eaten out, I do not need air. My heartbeat in my ears, I stay under until bright stars of light start worming around in my eyes. My legs straight out, the back of each knee rubbed raw against the concrete bottom. My toes are turning blue, my toes and fingers wrinkled from being so long in the water.

And then I let it happen. The big white gobs start spouting. The pearls.

It’s then I need some air. But when I go to kick off against the bottom, I can’t. I can’t get my feet under me. My ass is stuck.

Emergency paramedics will tell you that every year about 150 people get stuck this way, sucked by a circulation pump. Get your long hair caught, or your ass, and you’re going to drown. Every year, tons of people do. Most of them in Florida.
People just don’t talk about it. Not even French people talk about EVERYTHING.
Getting one knee up, getting one foot tucked under me, I get to half standing when I feel the tug against my butt. Getting my other foot under me, I kick off against the bottom. I’m kicking free, not touching the concrete, but not getting to the air, either.

Still kicking water, thrashing with both arms, I’m maybe halfway to the surface but not going higher. The heartbeat inside my head getting loud and fast.
The bright sparks of light crossing and criss-crossing my eyes, I turn and look back… but it doesn’t make sense. This thick rope, some kind of snake, blue-white and braided with veins has come up out of the pool drain and it’s holding onto my butt. Some of the veins are leaking blood, red blood that looks black underwater and drifts away from little rips in the pale skin of the snake. The blood trails away, disappearing in the water, and inside the snake’s thin, blue-white skin you can see lumps of some half-digested meal.

That’s the only way this makes sense. Some horrible sea monster, a sea serpent, something
that’s never seen the light of day, it’s been hiding in the dark bottom of the pool drain, waiting to eat me.

So… I kick at it, at the slippery, rubbery knotted skin and veins of it, and more of it seems to pull out of the pool drain. It’s maybe as long as my leg now, but still holding tight around my butthole. With another kick, I’m an inch closer to getting another breath. Still feeling the snake tug at my ass, I’m an inch closer to my escape.
Knotted inside the snake, you can see corn and peanuts. You can see a long bright-orange ball. It’s the kind of horse-pill vitamin my Dad makes me take, to help put on weight. To get a football scholarship. With extra iron and omega-three fatty acids.

It’s seeing that vitamin pill that saves my life.

It’s not a snake. It’s my large intestine, my colon pulled out of me. What doctors call, prolapsed.

It’s my guts sucked into the drain.

Paramedics will tell you a swimming pool pump pulls 80 gallons of water every minute. That’s
about 400 pounds of pressure. The big problem is we’re all connected together inside. Your ass is just the far end of your mouth. If I let go, the pump keeps working - unraveling my insides — until it’s got my tongue. Imagine taking a 400-pound shit, and you can see how this might turn you inside out.

What I can tell you is your guts don’t feel much pain. Not the way your skin feels pain. The stuff you’re digesting, doctor’s call it fecal matter. Higher up is chyme, pockets of a thin runny mess studded with corn and peanuts and round green peas.
That’s all this soup of blood and corn, shit and sperm and peanuts floating around me. Even with my guts unraveling out my ass, me holding onto what’s left, even then my first want is to somehow get my swimsuit back on.

God forbid my folks see my dick.

My one hand holding a fist around my ass, my other hand snags my yellow-striped swim trunks and pulls them from around my neck. Still, getting into them is impossible.
You want to feel your intestines, go buy a pack of those lamb-skin condoms. Take one out and unroll it. Pack it with peanut butter. Smear it with petroleum jelly and hold it under water. Then, try to tear it. Try to pull it in half. It’s too tough and rubbery. It’s so slimy you can’t hold on.
A lamb-skin condom, that’s just plain old intestine.

You can see what I’m up against.

You let go for a second, and you’re gutted.
Y
ou swim for the surface, for a breath, and you’re gutted.

You don’t swim, and you drown.

It’s a choice between being dead right now or a minute from right now.
What my folks will find after work is a big naked fetus, curled in on itself. Floating in the cloudy water of their backyard pool. Tethered to the bottom by a thick rope of veins and twisted guts. The opposite of a kid hanging himself to death while he jacks off. This is the baby they brought home from the hospital thirteen years ago. Here’s the kid they hoped would snag a football scholarship and get an MBA. Who’d care for them in their old age. Here’s all their hopes and dreams. Floating here, naked and dead. All around him, big milky pearls of wasted sperm.
Either that or my folks will find me wrapped in a bloody towel, collapsed halfway from the pool to the kitchen telephone, the ragged, torn scrap of my guts still hanging out the leg of my yellow-striped swim trunks.

What even the French won’t talk about.

That big brother in the Navy, he taught us one other good phrase. A Russian phrase. The way we say: “I need that like I need a hole in my head…” Russian people say: “I need that like I need teeth in my asshole…”

Mne eto nado kak zuby v zadnitse

Those stories about how animals caught in a trap will chew off their leg, well, any coyote would tell you a couple bites beats the hell out of being dead.

Hell… even if you’re Russian, some day you just might want those teeth.

Otherwise, what you have to do is — you have to twist around. You hook one elbow behind your knee and pull that leg up into your face. You bite and snap at your own ass. You run out of air, and you will chew through anything to get that next breath.
It’s not something you want to tell a girl on the first date. Not if you expect a kiss good night.
If I told you how it tasted, you would never, ever again eat calamari.
It’s hard to say what my parents were more disgusted by: how I’d got in trouble or how I’d saved myself. After the hospital, my Mom said, “You didn’t know what you were doing, honey.

You were in shock.” And she learned how to cook poached eggs.

All those people grossed out or feeling sorry for me…
I need that like I need teeth in my asshole.

Nowadays, people always tell me I look too skinny. People at dinner parties get all quiet and pissed off when I don’t eat the pot roast they cooked. Pot roast kills me. Baked ham. Anything that hangs around inside my guts for longer than a couple hours, it comes out still food. Home-cooked lima beans or chunk light tuna fish, I’ll stand up and find it still sitting there in the toilet.

After you have a radical bowel resectioning, you don’t digest meat so great. Most people, you have five feet of large intestine. I’m lucky to have my six inches. So I never got a football scholarship. Never got an MBA. Both my friends, the wax kid and the carrot kid, they grew up, got big, but I’ve never weighed a pound more than I did that day when I was thirteen.
Another big problem was my folks paid a lot of good money for that swimming pool. In the end my Dad just told the pool guy it was a dog. The family dog fell in and drowned. The dead body got pulled into the pump. Even when the pool guy cracked open the filter casing and fished out a rubbery tube, a watery hank of intestine with a big orange vitamin pill still inside, even then, my

Dad just said, “That dog was fucking nuts.”

Even from my upstairs bedroom window, you could hear my Dad say, “We couldn’t trust that dog alone for a second…”

Then my sister missed her period.

Even after they changed the pool water, after they sold the house and we moved to another state, after my sister’s abortion, even then my folks never mentioned it again.

Ever.

That is our invisible carrot.

You. Now you can take a good, deep breath.

I still have not.

credits to jamie for taking my breath away-again.

this is what i call words twisting everything inside of you.

i could not digest parts of the whole text without catching my breath.

Chuck Palahniuk is the absolute best.

i'm inspired.

2009-12-07T13:02:00.000+08:00

2009-12-07T09:27:00.001+08:00

2009-12-06T19:35:00.001+08:00

emma watson.

how heel shopping and starbucks can be in one conversation.

2009-12-06T16:08:00.004+08:00

person 1 says:
okay set
if i bring you on a heel shopping spree
u gotta buy me starbucks okayy
truckloads of them
how?

person 2 says:
in venti sizes?deal sealed
oh wait
i think i just mixed the sizes up..
i think i meant TALL

person 1 says:
what's venti and tall?
u mean there are tall heels and short ones?
and thus the reason i will google.

person 2 says:
goooooooodness
hahahahaha
its the sizes at starbucks!
lol
okay now i dont feel so B word.

person 2 says:
you get me 1 pair of louboutins
then we talk about your truckloads of starbucks!

person 2 says:
okay im googling that now
louboutins?
damn even the word is hard to say

person 2 says:
lol
its easy actually
lu-bu-tins
HAHAHA
omg i feel we kinda flipped the script here and you're playing my character now

2009-12-06T15:38:00.002+08:00

and no, i don't find that women are problems. i find them a complicated maths challenge rather.

2009-12-06T00:36:00.003+08:00

i'll just buy louboutins, black ones with red sole for the girl and get high on nicotine after that. now that's life.

2009-12-05T23:41:00.003+08:00

i just got home from a day out at sentosa.

i don't need love.

all i need are my brethren.

and now, i need sleep, sleep and sleep.

i'm going to hibernate till tomorrow evening.

okay thanks bye.

the-not-so-ugly-truth-about someone i don't really know

2009-12-04T22:37:00.005+08:00

On this day, you read something that moved you and made you realise there were no more fears to fear. No tears to cry. No head to hang in shame. That every time you thought you’d offended someone, it was all just in your head and really, they love you with all their heart and nothing will ever change that. That everyone and everything lives on inside you. That that doesn’t make any of it any less real.

That soft touches will change you and stay with you longer than hard ones.
That being alone means you’re free. That old lovers miss you and new lovers want you and the one you’re with is the one you’re meant to be with. That the tingles running down your arms are angel feathers and they whisper in your ear, constantly, if you choose to hear them. That everything you want to happen, will happen, if you decide you want it enough. That every time you think a sad thought, you can think a happy one instead.
That you control that completely.
That the people who make you laugh are more beautiful than beautiful people. That you laugh more than you cry. That crying is good for you. That the people you hate wish you would stop and you do too.
That your friends are reflections of the best parts of you. That you are more than the sum total of the things you know and how you react to them. That dancing is sometimes more important than listening to the music.
That the most embarrassing, awkward moments of your life are only remembered by you and no one else. That no one judges you when you walk into a room and all they really want to know, is if you’re judging them. That what you make and what you do with your time is more important than you’ll ever fathom and should be treated as such. That the difference between a job and art is passion. That neither defines who you are. That talking to strangers is how you make friends.

That bad days end but a smile can go around the world. That life contradicts itself, constantly. That that’s why it’s worth living.
That the difference between pain and love is time. That love is only as real as you want it to be. That if you feel good, you look good but it doesn’t always work the other way around.
That the sun will rise each day and it’s up to you each day if you match it. That nothing matters up until this point. That what you decide now, in this moment, will change the future. Forever. That rain is beautiful.
And so are you.

2009-12-04T14:31:00.000+08:00

2009-12-03T22:52:00.001+08:00

100 days of ravena. this should be a really really good production.

2009-12-03T14:18:00.000+08:00

2009-12-03T08:56:00.000+08:00

everyone smiles with that invisible gun to their head.

2009-12-02T22:54:00.000+08:00

2009-12-02T16:15:00.000+08:00

2009-12-01T23:48:00.000+08:00

2009-12-01T21:20:00.000+08:00

Hello fascination. Well it’s happening again. I’ve always waited for this to come. And sure enough, it has. Tell you one thing. It’s been already 6 months since it ended. Give it a rest will you? We’re all humans yknow, with feelings and the chupacabra. But, still humans nonetheless. Don’t you think I feel pain or rather hurt when I’m being scattered around like this? I’m immune to pain so I don’t really know how pain feels like anymore. And if you think I’m going to write my past here, then you’re wrong. I’m not gna spill my guts here so the whole world can read and spread. Okay you got me. I am a bad person. You’ve made that clear to everyone I’ve tried to befriend. It’s clear that you don’t like me to befriend good people. It’s also clear that for these good people to also not befriend, they’d have to hear your accusations and lies so that you could convince them. I get it. Believe me, that’s the least of my fears. I’ve always been alone. No, don’t mistake me, I’m not tryna get your sympathy. That’s the last thing I’d want from you. But why is that you don’t give me a chance to prove myself and change the way everyone wants it? Oh well, heck with the foul-mouthing and the sarcastic comments. Heck with fitting in. I never really did fit anywhere. That’s what hard life does to me. But I tried, didn’t I? Yeah okay I don’t fit in with the social norms and this is the price I’d gladly pay for being different. You’re no better I see. Well I’m not going to elaborate on anything here but don’t you realise that if I have truckloads of flaws you claim, don’t you feel that you have the same or more the number than me?

Okay I’m not writing this to console myself. Screw that. I just want to make things clear. It’s just I don’t really get why you’re destroying me like this? Okay yes, I was with your best bitchfriend for just a mere month and yes I had a relationship with her, but don’t things, not work out all the time? And no, I did not have the intent to shatter her life. Never did I once think of that. If not why would I ask her to be my listening ear even though we’re the ex-es that love screwing one another up? Anyways yes, I tried loving her best I could. But it just seems we’re not meant to be. So why are you making a big deal about it? It’s not like I’m making a big deal of you doing the things you want to do right. Whenever you need me, I’m here. When you couldn’t even care, I’m still here.

Okay making things clear here. You can make my life hell. You can mould it and twist it as much as you want till you and your merry band of friends are satisfied with. But leave the casualties alone. Please do. I don’t mind being hurt or being isolated in the class. It sure as hell doesn’t. But leave her alone.

2009-12-01T14:52:00.004+08:00

2009-12-01T09:23:00.000+08:00

fender-bender

2009-11-30T23:53:00.002+08:00

See I have always thought there are two things that can happen in a situation. Always, two directions that you can go. And I would like to understand these paths. Apparently, I have to face the consequences for whichever path I choose, it seems. Yes I know it’s never easy to have choices that need to be chosen, but at the end of the day, don’t I emerge fine? At the end of the day, no matter how hard things become things will always turn out okay somehow. I have that hope. If not this, then another I suppose but all I want is to understand. I want to know the root cause before I journey onto an irreversible path. I can turn back. But what are the chances of that happening? Can I handle the humiliation and betrayals that are always hidden in the past? Well honestly I believe that turning back is the most cowardly thing I can ever do, and believe me I’ve had my share of cowardice in my days. So I say move forward, with or without blind faith, with or without signs to guide you in the right direction. It sure as hell beats you ruffling your skeletons in the closet. And in any case my point in this whole thing is that sometimes I don’t understand why people do the things they do. Why they are beauties first and then beasts the next? Why the transformation of Dr Jackal to Mr Hyde? What drives them? What is their reasoning they hold to do such an act?

I’m not saying the things they do are wrong. But I’m not saying it is right also. That brings me to the point of the directions we choose and what consequences each has. See I used to think the world was undemanding and things happened exactly as what was portrayed in the movies. Well not exactly, but you get my point. I thought everything was simple and one day I’d get my dreams to come true. However I’ve come to realise that the world was never simple nor perfect. Even I, I have truckloads of flaws but that’s for another day. What I want to concentrate on is that why things aren’t simple as what they usually seem. I believe that everything in this world has dual personalities and again that comes back to my point of choosing of the two paths. But how can you always have the feeling that you had figured something out, only to realise that surprises or rather shocks are always bound to happen? Why the feeling that you have given your all to make that somebody happy only to realise that she is seeking happiness from another? When you try your best to make things happen, somehow it always tends to not work out the way you imagined it. Which brings me to another question? Why are there dual personalities co-incising with one another when they both conflict one another and are total opposites than what you expect. I’m not saying that they shouldn’t coincide with one another but why the need to disagree thus causing issues to become more complicated?

No, I’m not making things worse by making you over-think till the brink of destruction. I’m just trying to weigh the possibilities. And no, I’m also not immune to my claims. Even I have made mistakes and travelled the wrong path. It always happens to some people, me often included. I’ve had to make some tough calls over the lifespan of a male named fadhil. And grandmother always said that you’d lose some and sometimes you gain some. But why is that the losses are always greater than the gains? Why is such that you’d always have to cry more than to smile happily? How is it constructed in a way that the one you lose or something you lose become so valuable to you that you would do anything to get them back? To the extent that you would weep every week or mutilate your poor arm? This again proves my point that in this sad twisted ride titled MY LIFE, there are always choices you need to make. Always consequences ready to jump right at you and rip everything you once believe in. well you got my point.