welcome to my humble abode. =)

aka double room B309 eusoff hall national university of singapore

please enter....















i drew this pic [its supposed to be myself hugging the guai-lan-cho-kawaii-usgai-no-kaban-bag but in the end i dont think it resembles me much, sadly. hey, i already purposedly drew the calves larger ok! haha.]

hopefully you think its me, because it IS supposed to be me anyway....













a long awaited picture post!

there's an old adage that goes, a picture is worth a 1000 words. hopefully my not-quite-up-to-standard photog skills will be able to relay my 1000 worth of words..

first picture that is not of a non-living object has to be me, of course, haha =) yours truly

i like this, because i took it when i just woke up, all ruffled, with bed hair, a little bit of lazy-sleepy-i-dont-really-want-to-wake-up-for-anything feeling... bed hair and all [i love it when people have bed hair cause i think its so sexy...haha]

and of course there's a little hint of the bright warm sun peeking through my window onto my bed...

i love taking photos at random angles... haha


this is a picture of my nice double room. it seems quite small [considering the angle i took it from, and the fact that i only took my side of the room.]

i like this because it looks subtle but nice and quiet. a little gentle, a little warm, a little romantic.

that's weird, isnt it?

i love that him. you know; just lying quietly beside my bed, watching silently... i folded him up and hung him one on of the hooks already... =) yes yes, i know i know its wrong i know its not quite normal... but hes gorgeous! it was love at first sight!

he's my umbrella!

ok, no time already need to rush for kendo shinai maintainence [oh no i ve only read the booklet once everyone will be spamming me questions how how how... im such a lousy assistant qm... T_T help me jia you!]

more pics later

some believe that the ideals you impose upon your desired partner are based on the shortcomings you have.

that was just a random thought.
but maybe somehow thats related to me having a particular thing for noses and eyebrows.
eyebrows are somewhat less important; lots of people draw them, or 'edit' them anyway
noses are different; you re born with that nose, whether you like it or not.

round or straight, snubby or non-snubby, ugly or pretty
its not like you can have a damn choice.

it reflects your inheritance
somewhat, anyway.

the only reason i took a second look at you was because of your beautiful nose
i judge people by their noses.
so what?

did i ever tell you? that i fell in love with a guy at first sight [his nose actually] when i saw him taking the same flight as me... the only thing i remember is his wonderful, beautiful, perfect nose. nothing else matters because all his other features paled in comparison [to date all i remember is the perfection of his nose]
i was so tempted to go up to him as ask him if i could take a picture of his nose
and random thoughts scuttered through my mind, such as

oh, what wonderful noses our children will have
oh, i could look at his beautiful nose all day


at this point of time, if you think i am weird, its ok.
i really am.


its not like there is a lack of guys...
hall, lectures, tutorials, kendo, jss...
maybe its just me?... or the lack of notable noses?

i ll definitely marry a guy with a nice nose.
cause my nose is definitely not something id want to pass on to my kids.
its not that is ugly. its just not beautiful.

kids with ugly noses are such sad creatures.
kids with typical asian noses are such... unextraordinary beings.
i disallow my children to become so.


this is the explanation of my nose complex.
that will be all.

WARNING: UBER LONG ENTRY AHEAD. do not attempt unless you have too much time in your hands or enjoy being tormented by incoherent, irrelevant writing. not for the impatient, un-mundane,and faint-hearted.

if there was a steak, a cheesecake and ice cream on the table, what would you eat first?

that was what wife asked when she met up with me today.
it was that super shuang feeling [i can come up with no better word in any other language to express my feelings; sorry if i sound racist but chinese is still the best despite the fact that i am typing in english. frmph.] of being together again. took lots of photos on my good ol' needs-to-be-developed-really-out-of-date-and-needs-to-be-thrown-away-is-super-looked-down-upon-film-photo-camera. [i promise i ll put them up in my hall room even if they re really uglyhaha]

i like the feeling of anticipation mixed with bouts of worry when i pass the roll of film over to the person to develop because you never know what kind of photographs you ll end up getting [considering my not-so-there-not-quite-up-to-standard-ok-thats-an-understatement-its-just-lousy-but-dont-need-to-verbalise-it-=( photography skills.

i still like taking photographs anyway.
WHO GIVES A DAMN, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
*crazy laughter ensues*
*evil laughter echos across the empty room*
.....

ok, im sorry. need a break/
people will start thinking i need prozac or something
which is really scary [the thought of me really needing prozac, people thinking that i need prozac when i dont actually need it, or the thought of people thinking that i need prozac combined with me really needing it?]

*sighs*


oh no. *looks at top of entry*
*clears throat*
*looks around*

la dee dum. erhem, going back to what i initially started from, i told qiu han that i would choose cheesecake first [who cant resist it la; anyone who knows me really well knows i have a weakness for sweet stuff =P] then the steak and skip the ice cream altogether cause i d already be satisfied by the time i finish off my nice-meaty-bloody steak [that sounds so grunt-heave-ho-caveman-primitive-crude. haha. heave-ho reminds me of heave-ho theory which is part of my pl3237 module...ohno im digressing again...]

ok, dou yu i-mi?

the question is actually set in the context as follows:
when you are going through some problems, you will:

1. need comfort [ice cream]
2. get angry [steak]
3. be sad[cheesecake]

ok, i can spend like 1 hr to come up with n reasons why this test [so-called psychology test] is biased and stereotypical and unrealiable and nonsense and stupid and crazy and fake and isnt applicable to a lot of people [eg vegetarians, people who hate ice cream [i used to have a pri school class mate like that; i was astonished] and come up with n number of adjectives and phrases to describe how bad it is, [where n-----> infinity]

BUT.

who cares. haha.
at this point of time i realise my blog is really hard to read because i really function along a weird line of thought [irrelevance; incoherence]. even though it all makes sense to me; i just type out exactly what im thinking next....

going back to the test.

its true. if suddenly i hit some problems in the face,
i might just go to a corner where there is nobody and be very sad and brood to myself and type a crazy-seemingly-suicidal-depressive blog post. i rather die than go to talk to someone about it or ask for help; its like a kind of stubborness; refusal to be weak; to show my lack of strength

and sometimes i get angry easily. qiu ping, hc and wife would know that. tolerating an insolent, blunt, crude, chor loh, insensitive bloody bastard [oh dont be shocked, i really am a bastard *smirk*] like me for 6 years [going on our 7th]; they should know what its like to be poor suffering, friends... hahaha=)

but its ok, because....

i ll delete the emo-suicidal post next morning when i wake up and see the sun.
cause sunshine immediately makes me feel n times better. *smile* thats why someone calls me sunflower, haha. *big smile* =D and its kind of pai seh, but when i need encouragement and dont want to get it from other places, i ll go to a corner and say 'jia you wenlin' to myself and feel happy about it for the rest of the day

there seems to be a lot of things to be sad about recently...
considering what happened at home... and then... also... chinese lect...jap lessons
it will be very sad being alone [in the end, i still have to admit that i need to depend on other people because of the kind of loneliness and lack of security that shows up in the form of me buying ridiculously-enormous-bags-to-hug-for-assurance-and-comfort]

and with all the commitments and activities and assignments and projects spiraling and snowballing....

i feel a slight urge to slip into regression [missing the old times] and just run away
[actually regression is typically supposed to materialise in the form of me needing familial comfort or some kind of physical comfort we took for granted as a child e.g. sucking our thumb, but i dont feel this at all....-___- i guess sigmund freud isnt correct all the time]

sigh.

but there are happy things too.
like forging new relationships, getting acquainted with new people [ok, forget it, my GRANDMOTHER has acquaintances; i have friends. haha =P i should stop trying word substitution], increasing my social circle, blah blah.

but i still hate the kind of compromise and societal obligation and expectation to remain all smiles and friendly-friendly with people you dont like
i really still just want to look at the person with the i-dont-give-a-damn-about-what-you-do-i-dont-even-want-to-know-you face and walk off. haha. that would be, cool. *fantasizes*

but that wouldnt be nice.
BUT IM NOT NICE =(
well, not really by nature anyway....


i hate it when i answer my own questions and have this mini-internal-struggle-thing going on. you probably think im mad now, dont you.
HAHAHAHAH. that's cool.

*looks at second topic sentence*
happy things.
i held my first sports-related trophy yesterday [wait, its yest yest technically since its 1.00am sunday morn now. heh]. no words can describe the elation and joy and pride i felt inside.
though it was sad at the same time. [since i know im the lousiest player in the whole team =( im such a bad captain T_T]

i cant do sports for nuts.
now im starting to wonder if i started drawing because that was my passion or because its the only thing im kind of really good at/
nature/nuture again

i drew since i was wee small, so it probably cant be because i knew i sucked at sports; its probably because i spent so much time on drawing and reading[all the other time other people were learniung to swim and cycle and play football and basketball] that i compromised my physical development [considering i cant do any of the 'sports' mentioned above, except for cycling, which sort-of-kind-of-am-supposed-to-know-now-but-still-feel-demoralised-when-other-people-say-they-want-to-go-night-cycling=(]

so its fair.
*nods*

why do i find that so unconvincing?
....

which leads to...
should i even go for the ihg sports trials next week?
and if i should,

what freaking sport should i even try for????????

i ll leave that for later.
im still happy anyway. hall rocks =D [ok, i really do exhibit abnormal behaviour]
it was nice, even if it wasnt really real and just for a while.
let me immerse myself in fleeting happiness
*dances*

yay. =D
despite all this, i come to a conclusion that, because i am a irritatingly-happy person by nature, wenlin will still overcome all obstacles and her occasional bouts of brood-iness and achieve success and be victorious at the end of the day! YAYYYYYYYYY
HURRAH

ok, this is a really cheapo ending, but thats all i could think of, OK?
=)
im still happy; dont worry.

i decided i ll publish 'about a boy named richard' here and 'angel' on my random thoughts blog [since i have 4 blogs i might as well utilise them anyway; considering the central problem of economics is scarcity i should make full use of my resources, blah blah]

to be honest, the real reason is,
i like all the template layouts of all the blogs, so i cant bear to shut any of them down. heh.

'angel' has a nice soft, dreamy feeling, so i ll publish it on random thoughts. yay. =D its linked here...

la la la
*dances*

i like warm, cozy mornings. its the tiny rays of the sunlight that give that snuggly feeling even though theres the aftermath of the cold chilly night...

i drew this picture some time ago; so this is kind of a back-date post. but its the drawing of 'real life' characters that i like second best... second only to a picture... but i ll nvr get to show it to you guys, since i gave it away [i realise all my best drawings, i give away.... =)]

feeling kind of settled into my environment already; but im still missing home... and kind of falling sick also... which is really funny [as in weird-funny, not haha-funny] considering the fact that im so uber healthy i dont get byoki that easily at all...


lately i ve realised how superficial i am.
which is depressing. because i know almost everyone judges other people by their looks, and i like to think that i dont belong to this 'almost everyone' category, but reality has proven otherwise... i mean, i dont impose or force like 'ideals' onto others [e.g. the person i like MUST have nice eyes, high cheekbones, blah blah...*rambles] but i cant deny that

i like beautiful things and people
=(

its not a sin right?

it just so happens that i appreciate beauty better that others...
and that well, sometimes, at first sight,
i judge people by their noses [and eyebrows, somewhat]

and i DO have a tendency to want to get to know beautiful people and want to be in possesion of beautiful things... its a small obsession of sorts... but its not the same as

but thats really only at first sight...
all the people who know me well [well, somewhat, that is.] will know [ok, i used 'know' twice, which is like kind of awkward] that im really not superficial at all [ok that sounds like its a lame excuse, but its true! *protests*]

the thing is, i cant help it the way i gush on and on when i see a beautiful girl/boy [usually its the former; considering i have better appreciation of feminine beauty than masculine... boys who are too pretty are merely a waste of resources; they should all be girls *mouth curls into evil smile*]
i cannot help how feelings of extreme joy and exhilaration burst out in me when i see something beautiful... i will want to keep it; keep looking at it; marvelling at the perfection of it...

which kind of links to the point
that i sometimes suffer from pangs of low self-esteem and require self-assurance [believe it or not, sometimes when i feel demoralised, i ll go to a quiet corner and say to myself: wenlin, jia you! and i ll immediately feel n times better [where n is a number------> infinity] ] especially when i wake up in the mornings and look at myself in the mirror

sometimes i practically cringe at my nose
=( its like this sad looking thing. [my sister says i have a fetish for noses; its just my thing, ok?]
not that it really matters much; it functions perfectly well; and its a typical asian nose, not like some huge weird ugly looking thing, but

anything that is not beautiful will evoke in me feelings of ... well...
disdain.

and so, still,
every morning,
i wake up and look at my not-so pretty nose.

and resolve to marry some one with an extremely nice nose [yes, because i know that the allele for sharp, straight noses is dominant, while the allele for not-so-nice noses like mine is recessive so hopefully my children wont have to suffer a fate similar to mine]

and what was my point?

i know nothing can really be perfect, and not everything can be beautiful, but
i just like beautiful things. a lot more than normal people do.
well. frmph.

About a boy named richard

Chapter 2

[Natalie]
When the boy looked up from the dusty pavement, his eyes looked straight into mine; and I thought, why can't I have such long beautiful eyelashes like him? And finally, for the first time, I knew what it looked like to have long and beautiful eyelashes. I knew what mother meant when she heaved a sigh of disappointment as she hovered over me, casting a shadow on my tiny self.

'As if it wasn’t bad enough. You haven't inherited any of my traits. Where are my almond-shaped eyes? Or my long curly lashes?'

That probably made her sound like she's very full of herself but, mother was a rather sensible person. Most of the time, she was very level-headed. So really, she wasn't being arrogant at all, but stating things as-a-matter-of-factly.

Sometimes, when I'm left on my own, I like to imagine what it would be like if I was pretty and if I wasn't blind. Then perhaps my existence wouldn't be such a great pain to mother. Perhaps she would like me a little more. Perhaps she would love me as she loved father. But I knew for sure that mother would never love anyone as much as she loved father. At least no longer.

But whether mother loves me or not isn’t really relevant. As I was saying, the boy had such beautiful lashes I stood in awe frozen on the spot for a few brief moments. Then I realized that he must be French, since my old school teacher always told me that French men had the longest and loveliest eyelashes.


Maybe it was because I had never seen anything so clearly all my life before; my eyes started to tear so I rubbed them gently with the back of my hand.

Then I felt a warm grip on my wrist and when I looked up I saw the French boy standing in front of me, his eyes worried. His hand was very big, much bigger than mine; but his grip was not rough but one of gentle concern

Then, as if to ask, are you all right? He cocked his head slightly to one side and raised his eyebrows.

'I'm alright,' I stammered.

He patted my head gently and smiled warmly at me. Then he helped me as we sat down on the curbside. It felt weird because it was almost as if I wasn't blind because I could see him so clearly and also because either he didn't seem to mind that I was blind, or that he didn't notice.

The boy told me that his name was Richard.
And I was happy.

[Richard]

I imagine Natalie would never know why I helped her on the pavement that day. I never got to tell her. She left so suddenly, so abruptly, just as autumn leaves silently and winter comes to take its place. And all that was left for me was a chilly cold. I was devoid of feelings; devoid of thoughts; devoid of emotions. It is beautiful to say that God created Eve from a bone from Adam, and that she makes him complete. Natalie made me complete. But since I bade her to leave me, I will forever be short of that one special bone that makes me complete.

Natalie was a girl of gentle nature. She disliked having to hurt others for her own benefit. But in a similar manner, she would protect those she loved from anyone who would hurt them. She was one tough cookie.

But she was also very young, very naïve and rather gullible. Years after we met, she told me, on a Sunday afternoon, that she once thought I was French! Because I had the longest and loveliest eyelashes she had ever seen! Oh, you should have seen the way I roared with laughter and the way she blushed like a ripe tomato. She was also young, not in terms of age, but in the way she related to people. Had she not trusted me so easily, maybe she would have led a happier life.

Me? I am a fool. And a liar. But Natalie chose to believe me. And I used her.

Many a times I did things knowing that they would hurt her. I broke her heart time and time again, but she forgave me. I knew it was extremely painful for her that afternoon in the library when I approached her.

There she was, sitting by the window, her fingers running across the Braille on the book, her laughter echoing throughout the room. The sun was a shy and gentle maiden, playing about the clouds. I knew it would be difficult to tell her. I knew it would hurt her. But I told her.

Her face fell. She looked away from me for a brief moment, then when she turned around; her face was one of pure joy for me, and not a tear-streaked face. I knew she was putting up a brave front. I asked her if she would like to be the bridesmaid. She said she was delighted.

Satisfied, I turned and left. I didn't want to see her cry.

But Natalie would never know that I never did get married.
Natalie would never know that I only ever loved her.

contemplating where i should continue writing 'about a boy named richard'

stories have never been my thing...
story-writing too...

but... anyway, this is what i have so far.

About a boy named richard.

Chapter 1

[natalie]

This is the story about a boy. He is no taller than six foot five, and weighs not more than 55 kg.

In many ways, to many people, he is just an ordinary boy. No more special, no less. But I knew he was special. From the moment I saw him.

But I can't really say I saw him.
You see, I'm blind, so I couldn’t have seen a car if I was walking across the road and a mindless driver drove straight towards me.But it’s special because when you're blind, everything else in the world is much clearer, to me at least. It's almost as if, to make up for my lost in sight, my four other senses are sharper than any normal person. I can smell the aroma of freshly baked pies from three streets away, or feel the warm sun’s rays on my skin, or hear the beautiful sound of water running down a stream. Much clearer, much more beautiful.I can feel it in people's voices when they speak to me. I can 'see' their looks of pity.

But I am not bitter about my not being able to see. I am just glad to be alive, to experience this beautiful world. It's great to be alive.But I haven't told you about this boy yet. Alas. And I have named this book after him!I wouldn’t be able to tell you exactly what he looked like. Whether he had brown hair or blond. Whether he was Asian or Caucasian. Whether his eyes were deep blue, like that of the Indian ocean's, or emerald green like that of the Amazon forest, like what other people say. I do not know what green is, or what brown looks like, or what black is.

These do not matter to me.All I know is, amid a world of beautiful blur, he is the only clear image I see.

Despite being blind, I can see the outline of objects and people. Perhaps it is almost like my eyelids help me to see', so I am able to tell if a person is approaching or when an object is thrown at me. If you look through my eyes, the world is like pretty water colour painting. Except it is all of the same colour. There isn’t even black and white. Just a wonderful blur of images and outlines.But when I saw him, I knew he was special. I could see clearly, his face; his eyes; his hair; his cheekbones; his slouched shoulders; his feet as they shuffled against the pavement; the way his hand rested wearily against the shop window. And I thought to myself, oh my god.

[richard]

Many people think that we live our lives to experience a certain strong feeling, to go through a certain process, or to meet a special someone. For me, I believe life only really began the moment I looked up from the dusty pavement and saw her. However corny and ridiculous it may sound, the purpose of my very existence is probably just so I could meet her. But I haven't told you about her, have I? It's been sometime since she left. I think I should tell you about her. This brilliant girl. Some people would disagree that I should use the word 'brilliant' to describe her, but there is, no other better word to describe her. She is, simply, brilliant.

Firstly let me introduce myself.

My name is Richard.

It’s quite an irony because i'm very poor actually. Don’t get the joke? Rich-ard. Not funny? Not my idea. Ask my ol' mum. It was her bright idea to name her son Richard, thinking it would ensure him a lifetime of fortune and enormous wealth.

And what’s even funnier is there’s actually a font in Microsoft word called 'poor Richard'. Splendid.So I decided to use this font.But that’s not very important. I’m so sorry I sort of went off-topic again.

Where was I? Ah. Now I remember. You must understand that I am getting old, so you can’t blame me if I keep forgetting what I want to say or keep straying away from the topic. Just how old am I? The last time I checked, I think I was sixty seven. But that was a couple of years back. Oh well. That’s that.It's not easy being old. Everything seems to yellow, and you start to reminisce the times when you were young and you took everything for granted. I can still remember clearly, the day I looked into that beautifully carved wooden coffin. And I saw her beautiful face, for the very last time.

Only at that very moment, did the revelation finally dawn upon me; I had to accept that she left, and would that she would never come back. I remember she told me very specifically before she left, that she wanted the wood for her coffin to be cedar. She said she liked the scent of cedar, and that it was strong and sturdy. I asked her if she wanted me to carve anything on it, and she said, okay, I’ll let you decide.

So I did.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

chapter 2 next post =)

haha.

yesterday night, or should i say today morning, was an entirely bizarre experience. not that i despised it though... it was just plain funny. as in, weird-funny, not haha-funny [unlike my philo lecturer, who's awful nice, but happens to be a bit of both... when she lectures shes always a bit weird-funny. she 'll launch into one of those long long talks where we have no idea where shes going and sometimes she'll laugh at her own jokes, which is haha-funny i suppose.]

anyway, yes yes.

back to hall life.


getting well adjusted here already. seeing familar faces; putting up a friendly face and trying to throw the 'pai-sehness' of first-times away.

a current update on my free-ness
im currently member of kendo [actually i really want to be really strong or be exco or something, but thats not for me to decide. not yet anyway... =) but last practice seemed like a good start], secretary of jap studies society [yes, i can't believe i took up this sai kang post again. as if i did not have enough of typing-late-night-early-morning-minutes...and this time my boss is... sigh.], member of eusoff works [unbelievable. i made it in. *goes to one corner to laugh to herself* haw haw haw. you cant imagine how pleased i am with myself. i always liked photog so maybe this might be my big break!!!! HURRAH =D]

and there's dp sets, which i have no idea whether im in or not... but chen yong said he would help me talk to the senior in charge, and wayne said he would talk to hadrian about it also...

apparently everyone has certain social capital that i do not possess or have not acquired yet...

whenever i see chen yong i have to surpress the urge to call him 'monk man'
its like the urge to say, 'up lah, geok!!!' whenever i see her
>_< it's unintentional, i swear.

now's that phase in my life that i can actually feel the deepening and formation of social relationships with people... and i feel extremely tempted to just slack off by not placing effort in this... but of course i wont... wont slack off that is.

sidetracking, im wonder what the other designs for the block tee will be like. obviously they will be good, since elaine and kim ong are doing them... but i just want to know what they look like... dying urge... frmph.

must remember to bring my digi cam this weekend. so i can post some guai lan photos to guai lan other people.

havent been doing pieces lately... need more self-discipline.


actually i was just wondering...
out of all the people i give my drawings to, how many actually do really keep them well and remember them as presents from me? i guess to me, a piece is something which a monetary value cannot be placed upon; it is special, original, unique. it is not something that can be measured in normal methods but yet is something substantial and tangible... i figure its the number of hours and effort i put into it... thats the first thing i recall when i look at a piece. i will remember how many times i changed my mind about wanting that side to be a certain colour; how many times i erased that corner till i got it just right; how many times this had to be adjusted till i was satisfied.

the best things [pieces], i always give away.
there's this strong sense of unbearable sadness at parting
but i always comfort myself by saying that i own it; thus i should be able to come up with something better if not of the same standard, so why need/ want to keep it...

it is my hands that are truly valuable, not that flimsy piece of paper...



where have i digressed to?
irrelevant and incoherent again. *laughs*. yeah.
that's wenlin for you.

i MUST blog about that bout of brilliance. I MUST blog about my wonderful teammates and spectacular goals.

driven by a a stroke of unfathomable wit;
overcome by a wave of unbelieveably good luck

YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHH
*yelps*


b block girls won the street soccer game.
ok, so what if most of the games were ties.
ok, so what if we won c block narrowly by comparing goals scored
ok, so what if the game was totally unglam and substandard compared to the guys' game

Yipeeee!!!! *yelps*

meanwhile, im drowning in the amount of reading overhere....
maybe i should file for graduation soon
get married, have children, iron clothes, mop the floor
it seems like a wiser choice... i dont really think im cut out for this...
then again, washing clothes and changing diapers isnt really my cup of tea either
but i can iron quite well though.
eh....

urgh...

frmph.


thinking about things recently.
i keep having this hard internal struggle with myself over whether or not to take money from my mother when she offers me [oh-so-nicely-and-understandingly]. If i take it from her; there are so many implications. On one hand i want to be independent and try to pay for my own expenses; on the other hand im barely scraping by considering the mearge sum im getting from tuition... but i dont want to cause financial burden to her... taking into account the fact that dad is getting half pay only now because hes studying again... i wish i were able to pay for my own hostel fees and transportation fees.

its ridiculous but i spend time reasoning with myself over this.

i should just bloody study harder and not let her worry about my grades
like studying was so easy[yea, it still is, trust me]

ok, you can probably feel the acid dripping from the corners of my keyboard...
cynicism is my most lethal weapon.



sigh. need to read materials.
hope i dont zzz before i finish them.

ok, i know its not right to think of eating a nice gravy-dipped half-raw beef steak in the middle of the night [technically that statement is flawed; its now 2 am goro...so its early morning.]

feeling lethargic lately. but kind of happy also. contented that my mearge circle of social relationships seems to be widening at an increasing rate [maybe it might increase exponentially! and at this exact moment, i shock myself by actually being able to remember how to draw the exponential curve! woohoo. ]

suddenly i feel like eating katsu don... actually to be frank, the only don i ever really want to eat is una don [short for unagi? i wonder if there are this kind of abbreviations...] but because i know its going to be exceedingly extravagant, i cheat myself secretly and slyly by trying to convince my true inner self to switch sides to the more economical, more value-for-money, more filling, more reasonable katsu don. i mean, just look at that line of adjectives! isnt the mere sight of it enough to convince you that katsu don should be THE ONE?

not really.


ok, its normal if you think im weird because for me this is absolutely normal. these internal struggles and invisble arguments go on mentally everyday without fail. my life is basically a kind of dynamic equilibrium [net force or movement in each direction = 0, note, different from static equilibrium] consisting of pulls and pushes in all kinds of directions applied by agents of desire and obligation...

OKAY OKAY
what i really really want is a HUGE unagi don with a HUGE, gravy-laden piece of unagi lying right SMACK!!!! in the middle of the rice. nice, fragant japanese rice[oh-who-gives-a-damn-when-theres-an-obnoxiously-huge-piece-of-unagi-on-top-of-it-everything-else-pales-in-comparison]


i need rest. the processes are going haywire.
next time you see me, i ll start asking questions then answering them myself

brilliant, really.

its always that feeling of regret.

im always looking behind my shoulder, admiring what i dont have.
its like when you decide to order something, and after you placed your order, you see someone else's order arriving and then you regret not having ordered something else instead.

what i really wanted was green tea icecream with red bean.
so why, why did i order soba?


the whole time, the whole thing, whole issue about societal norms... conformity...
sigh. whatever the case....

i feel weak.


i dislike the feeling of weakness. when i feel vulnerable, susceptable to anything from outside of me. I have an urge to find something. To cover me. To block me. For my comfort. For my reassurance. For my support. Absurd as it is, insecurity surrounds me.

i dislike the night. It is like a storm that strips me bare of my defences; it brings me to my knees; it destroys any remains of a cover i need to protect my self with.

yet i welcome the night.
I like the way he engulfs me; swallows me whole
he is gentle; he is kind;

it is confusing
i feel empty yet overflowing at the same time
dream or reality
its the same to me

tears cant fall because the tears are crying
lie or the truth
its the same to me



i want to be strong.

'Everything that exists is born for no reason, carries on living through weakness, and dies by accident.' - Jean-Paul Sartre-

WARNING philosophical spoilers ahead, for mundane update on life, jump to second part after long row of hyphens.

okay, so i open the cover of this book and this happens to be the first sentence that jumps out at me. And immediately, from that instant onwards, i decide i like this guy.
Man, as a useless passion.

That's freaking brilliant.

the total gratuity and absurd contingency of the universe that gives the feeling of perpetual sickeness. Because of the absence, or rather, lack of presence of God, there is no good reason for the world and all there is in it to exist. Therefore the nauseating plethora of things.

despair not.

In human beings, and in us alone, existence precedes essence. We are, and we are free, before we are anything else.Because we are free to take on the qualities of the particular mode of being what we have chosen to adopt. But values rise from our actions as patridges do from the grass beneath our feet. Because we know we are free, and are afraid of our freedom, that we make such efforts to avoid it, and are capable of such feelings of relief when we sometimes manage to deprive ourselves of our freedom.

Our freedom is linked to the fact that we can never escape from our awareness of ourselves. Because we are always aware of ourselves, and able to imagine what is not the case, we have the freedom to stand back from our situation, evaluate it, and decide what to do.

we would all like to be absolutely what we are with the full awareness that we are it.
However, as long as we are conscious of what we are, we can never entirely be what we are. Our freedom to change, the necessary consequence of our awareness, is always there.
The only being able to combine total coincidence with itself 'being', with total selfawareness is God.

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

enough of what i've been reading.
an update on life.
Been up to nothing much really; just sitting around, pondering about things in life[or rather, life itself]. Trying to borrow required materials for my modules, going on desperate library-hopping marathons, lugging heavy books to and fro, killing myself with the reading materials,

i leave the comma there, because i am extremely certain i have spent the weekend doing more things that those i have listed above, but at this exact moment i cannot seem to let my thoughts, or more precisely, my memory 'materialise' that particular memory of what i did.
ok, that means i just forgot.

im really starting to feel a nauseating plethora of things. i feel a Need to get away from the cloyingness of all this unnecessary superabundance; this disgusting clutter and burden...
get away from the noise, the fatigue, the colour....


maybe i need to list things down in point form for my own benefit.
ok. this is what i did last weekend, in no particular order:

^i read some notes. [the value of 'some' quantitatively is some matter worth debate]
^i annoyed my sister [not worth listing, but i did it anyway, as i always do. and anyway, its a two-way thing, because we always remember to be nice and recipocate other's nice intentions]
^i played with my sister [literally and figuratively. i mean, we always entertain each other. we even have a motto, 'we annoy; we entertain; we irritate; live would be so boring without each other'. and we did play badminton, so that counts as playing as well i pressume.]
^i celebrated my sister's birthday [other sister; my sister's life doesnt revolve around being played and annoyed by me, thank goodness *smirk*]
^[of no relevance to the above points but] i watched some brainless but thoroughly enjoyable taiwan variety shows
^i went to bishan library [2 times], toa payoh library [2 times] and ang mo kio library
and still did not find the book called 'family and kin' by my lecturer Mdm stella quah despite the fact that the virtual records of the libraries show 5 unborrowed copies, 3 in bishan and 1 in tp and amk respectively.

either its me, the lousy librarians, the lousy shelving system, the books[im sure its not their fault, really. i mean, they re not even living things; why blame them?] or other inconsiderate readers [yes, the 'other' implies that i am an inconsiderate reader too. well, not all the time, but i can be, potentially]

im so dead pan i feel like slapping myself.
wait a minute, is there a '-' between 'dead' and 'pan'. or is it one word.
damn, im bloody irritated
somehow, this all seems hilarious suddenly. i feel like[i am, actually] laughing at myself [or all this]

ok, i think its deadpan. im quite sure now. im so bloody lazy i dont want to check up the dictionary; hah.
anyway i think dead pan cant be right. it sounds so wrong. i mean, its like, 'dead', 'pan'.
How could anyone possibly be 'dead pan'? of course its one word. silly.
it's ok; if you find all this weird it only means that you re really normal, because im daft one.
its like im always having this invisible arguments in my head.


continuing on, expanding on my thread of irrelevance and incoherence,
it feels random when i go home and see my father studying. Its like this overwhelming sense of guilt overcomes me [damn, i wanted to use overwhelm again but that would be repeating. It seems like i like to use 'overwhelm' overwhelmingly, lately. thats funny. as in, haha-funny. But also weird-funny, come to think of it. frmph.]

suddenly i feel overcome by a need to shower. and then zzz. yes yes. time to retreat to slumber [can i phrase it that way? it sounds funny. weird-funny, not haha-funny]
more updates later, if you can take more doses of irrelevance.

i shall end off with something nice and philosophical.

The aim of pour-soi is to remain pour-soi, while at the same time becoming en-soi.
- Sartre-


irritating right?
*smirk*