the world is full of people who are prettier, taller, slimmer, lighter, funnier, stronger, more interesting, smarter, wittier, more intelligent, more reasonable, more charismatic, more charming, more talented, more sporty, more elegant; full of people who can run faster, dance better, sing better, write better, draw better, design better, look better, act better, cope better, 

better than.

better than you.

i've not really been the type to compare 

about not being better than others 

but

sometimes it's not that you're greedy and you want to be smart and charming and slim and pretty and talented and elegant and popular and friendly all the time all at once,

but really when you look around you,

and you look into you, at yourself,

and then you think and wonder,

what's the point of my existence?

what's so great about me?

if everyone was a grade, or a point, 

how many points would i be?

if i keep comparing,

will i die from losing all the time?

will i drown from being at the bottom?

what's wrong with not being at the top?

if i'm not outstanding, extraordinary, striking, amazing, out-of-this-world,

then what's wrong?

what's wrong with being ordinary?

would i be happy if i wasn't the B i am now?

would i be happy if i was the A i admire?

what difference to the world does my existence make?

what impact can i make to the place i was in?

what impression did i leave on you?

what makes me so good that i'm different,

and it's worth it that i'm alive?

what difference did i make to you while i was alive?

what can i give that nobody else can?

would anyone remember what i did?

would anyone miss me if i died?

and then,

deeper,

deeper,

deep,

more, i dwell.

because,

i think,

living should mean so much more.

another sleepless night.

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

i was lamenting to my mother over the weekend [on a random topic we always talk about random things cause i always rush home fling open the door and gush about random hall happenings to her and she'll fill me in on the stuff at home and maybe some stuff at her workplace, which, despite its seemingly harmless and soft nature [it's a kindergarten] has it's fair share of backstabbers, bootlickers and office politics] about lots of people i know cutting bangs.

i dont know really. 

its like mixed feelings.

i mean, if you have a nice face shape, 

it doesnt really matter what hair style you have,

cause any freaking hairstyle would look nice on you.

but i really cannot imagine bangs.

not on my face at least.

i was like saying i dont think i can carry off the look, 

though some part of me would like to experiment for once,

and then she was like asking me why i dont think i can carry it,

and then i was like,

oh, i got a bao face,

without my side fringe,

it would look like big bao,

which is n times worse than now

then she was like,

really genuininely,

'NO LAH! you where got bao face now.'

but this made me a little happy,

just for a little while today.

the little one still calls me bao face now and then,

but i guess it's more of a nickname or so,

like how i call him 'the little one',

really just for fun.

i know, it's stupid right?

to be swayed by these things.

but i was happy regardless.

the song sounds happier by the minute,

but why doesn't my feelings tally?

found my it song.

has quite a cute mv with SJS inside. i think he makes a good couple with her, but if the point of the mv/mini series is to sell the cars inside the mv, then it's quite an off-story.

nice song, regardless.

funny how the same song can sound sad/happy,

depending on when you're listening to it?

and also, depending on who's next to you/not there with you.

and :(:(  = :( + :( 

but :(:( can also = : + (: + ( = (:(:

it's all good, we tell ourselves

since that's the only way we go on living.

the children say they're okay,

but you never know when they're lying.

at least i have music in my life.

' Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation. ' - Oscar Wilde

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

she made me laugh so much i think i'm okay.

next time, i will go up to you, tiptoe, put my hands on your shoulders,

and shake you so hard that both of us will wake up.

if there's a next time.

why couldn't i **** someone else?

=(

i know i should focus

usually if this happens i tell myself

that i i sleep and wake up i can forget

maybe just for a while but at least it works

BUT I CANNOT SLEEP =(

BUT SOMEBODY TELL ME HOW TO TELL MY BRAIN TO CONTROL THE REST OF ME, MY BODY, MY FINGERS MY EYES MY FACE MY MOUTH MY HEART

focus focus focus focus focus focus focus focus

no this is all coming at a really bad time

no this is all coming at a really bad time

no this is all coming at a really bad time

this is coming at a really bad time

this is coming at a bad time

this came at a bad time

=(

=(

=(

=(=(

=(=(

=(=(=(

=(=(=(

=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(

i hate it =(

i hate it i hate it

you are a coward.

you catch me in my worst times, at my most unglam moments, when i'm caught off-guard, when i'm not paying attention, when i want to bang my head against the cupboard, when i want to run away, when i pretend everything's fine and good, when i don't give a damn, when i feel like shit, when i'm stressed like hell, when tears are streaming down my face, when i want to pull my hair out, when i want to cut my wrists, when i want to burn eyes, when i want to gorge myself, when i want to puke all these disgusting things out, when i dont feel like it when i know today is not the day when i know its not the right time when i know

i cannot be the right me

when i cannot be warm sunshine and smiles and flowers and hearts and girly giggles

and then you throw a bomb into my lap

and tell me to defuse it

how can you do/say such irresponsible things?

and then just walk away, turn around,

what do you expect me to reply?

if there's a model answer,

why not tell me, so i

can just say it.

but so am i.

a coward.

:(

:(

:(:(:(

:(:(:(:(:(

:(:(:(:(:(:(
:(:(:(:(:(:(:(:(

who knew we had so much in common? :(

a rock hit my foot today and i must pretend nothing happened.

「俺、めちゃハンサムや！！！！！！」

「ｌｅｔ’ｓ　ハンサム！」

just downloaded it and watched it.

insanely funny.

hand me a handsome suit too.

it's kind of sick/sadistic/emo/whatever

but i really, really like it.

and her voice is kind of whiney/high-pitched/nazel/whatever

but i kind of really really like it.

and i really like her du lan face when she's singing.

like she doesn't give a shit if you think her voice is too screechy.

or if you don't give a shit and don't want to buy her album.

hell yeah.

makes me feel like frigging want to shake my head off.

or slit my throat, put a finger up my gullet, cut my wrist or something.

of course i'm just joking.

さくらん「錯乱」

sakuran. also means confusion　

a reasonable jazz number by 椎名林檎 shiina ringo.

my all time favourite. couldn't find the album version, so here's the live.

she's more chest-voice-alto-bassy in live but i think it's not too bad.

and the translated lyrics:

__________________________________________________________

song:Keshou Naoshi 化粧直し/ Adjusting My Make-up
album: Adult

artiste: tokyo jihen 東京事変

My room after you left it keeps getting muddied white
as if the past is a faraway fog
The strength I can’t prove a second time keeps growing hazy
If it rains on our parting this morning, fine

I knew loneliness, meeting you
But I lost you, and now I’m truly alone for the first time

A fragrant loquat – our garden has been rotting away wounded for a long time now
So many times we’ve said too many goodbyes

Please come home just once more
Because I won’t put your love to waste that time, really

I knew loneliness, meeting you
And I became aware that I’ve been losing you too all throughout this long time
When words fluttered around and withered in midair
I finally realized it
That I am truly alone「本とに一人」

i will attenuate everything you say, everything i don't want to hear, and everything away.

can't wait for it to come!!!

hello, antisocial me!

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

i can't help but notice some people are nicer to me than before,

and some people are [somewhat?] colder to me than before.

i wonder if it's really true?....

cause i dont think i've changed.

when i feel stressed my jaw cannot stop moving 

all the freaking things you said

repeat repeat rewind rewind replay replay

it's crazy it's crazy it's crazy

i hate you like crazy

i wish 

i hate you like crazy

cognitive dissonance.

日本語で：「認識不協和」

when you think something of someone but see the person's actions speaking differently from what you thought earlier of the person, it hurts.

it's also the feeling of discomfort/inadequacy when, for example, someone praises or compliments you for a virtue/value you have e.g. 'you're so pretty' when you know inside that it's not true.

in very simple english, 

it's also the same as, 

'i have issues.'

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

'bulimics will always be envious of anorexics the way nobody else can understand because they can resist the temptation[food] that bulimics will never ever be able to say no to, and because anorexics see no problem in their state of being, they will live without the guilt and regret that bulimics carry with them for the rest of them lives and also along with the puke that comes out when they stick their fingers into their throat in the toilet.'

true?

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

i admit,

all i really wanted was to take a photo together.

but i just couldn't bring myself to open my mouth to ask.

now it's all over, and we no longer have anything in common.

too bad,

but i know it's all good; all for the better.

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

'you're quite talented at dance; should have joined dance earlier lah!'

i really wonder if it would have made a difference.

if i actually had dared to have gone for the dance auditions when i was in year one.

if i managed to resolve the issues within me [which remain unresolved despite having done all this] and gone bravely to do whatever i wanted, be it under the scrutiny of other

whether it would have changed who i was/am

the people i hang out with, the person i had/have become etc.

sometimes i wish there were a parallel universe i could look into,

to see what it would have been like if i had remembered/forgotten/chosen otherwise.

not that i regret/regretted the decisions/current state i am in now, because i know these are irreversible changes and there's really no turning back and there shouldn't be; but i'm just really curious sometimes; what it would have been like. 

would it have made a difference?

or am i still,

me?

or maybe in the end, the question should be,

who exactly, is me?

i bought this decoration set thingy from ikea cause it was price marked down and on sale and really cheap plus the stuff though useless was kinda cute and can be used to like hang on the door or pin on the noticeboard, and there was a lot in the pack, and i was intending to give to everyone in the dances that i danced in,

but i forgot about it.

and now deepee is over.

and i'm thinking if i should give it, but i dont even talk to some of these people. 

and i was thinking of writing notes to each person and hanging the stuff on their door and pasting the notes on their doors, 

but i was really at a loss at what to write for some notes. though for others i could easily go on for pages and pages and continue writing and writing. but well still.

plus there are THIRTY EIGHT. thirty eight. people. [it's really luck i dont know what the set has exactly a mix of 38 hanging decoration item thingys so i was really tempted to write the notes NOW and give it to everyone but]

38.

i think managed to write till 20. 

and plus i dont know where everybody stays, and plus i'm really tired i know i should have written the notes earlier but i was so busy and plus DP is already over and plus it's weird [though kinda nice, IMO]to find a note and some weird thing hanging on your door from someone from your dance that you dont even really talk to [for some] or am not even remotely close to and might not talk to at all even in the future though you might say a hello and plus i imagine some of the guys would probably just throw the note and hanging thing away or not know what to do with it at all so it would just be a waste of effort causing them trouble so

i think i ll just keep the set until next year.

sigh,

in the end, 

nothing changed, really.

it's ironic that the last song was a happy ending.

it was a lot of work, i had a great time, got to know a lot of people,

and it was wonderful though not like what i imagined;

not as fantastic but quite as heartbreaking.

the clock struck 10 and the magic ceased,

before i could do anything, before i could say anything,

and 

i should be happy;

now,

we have one less thing in common.

but in the end,

what really changed?

nothing.

what should i do right after deepee tomorrow?

i dont think i'll want to go home but i don't know who to celebrate with.

shouldn't think so much.

oh well.

i bent down to dig clothes out from the clothes heap and then looked up and hit my head squarely against the corner of the desk/self.

fantastic.

hurts like hell :(

n times more than the n bruises on my kneecaps + face [where n = large integer nearing infinity].

there's the mini quiz again for pl4223 at 9am but i haven't read the two readings :(

and then there's ANOTHER reading for pl4206, but for the first half of the lecture he doesnt go through readings, and his lecture is 12-3pm and i have tech run for the accapella thing at 1pm 

so how

should i go?

sigh

:( :( :( :(

out of the blue again.

like a bolt of lightning that struck me squarely on the head like i was some willowy tree in the middle of an empty abandoned lot that nobody cared about.

sigh.

peace and quiet,

is it too much to ask for?

i have to get used to this feeling.

practice, practice. like how i learnt to tie my laces, to swim [cant really], to ride bikes [can't really], to do men cuts [not perfectly, sadly] and also to pirouette [not perfectly either :(]

practice and it will become muscle memory.

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

i hate it, i hate it, 

i hate it, i hate it, i hate it 

she sings,

'Its a shame, its a shame, its a perfect shame. Creep under my door, and we do it again, oh.

Its so easy and easy and easy and easy And creepy and creepy and creepy, oh Again, again, again, again.

Say my name, say my name, say my stupid name? Its stupid how we always seem to do it again, oh.

Youre so stupid and perfect and stupid and perfect. I hate you, I want you, I hate you, I hate you, oh. Again, again, again, again.

La, La, La

Again, again, again, again. Do it Again Do it Again

Again and again.

the emo button just switched on.

it's back to the other side of the curve. 

okay,

which one? :(

a few hours left to my submission for the 25%-worth-of-my-final-marks-pl4206-1499-words-essay. secretly i'm always scared shitless by writing papers but outwardly i enjoy page-hopping and google-ing for readings and citations which i don't really read but copy and paste and then paraphrase if required.

suits me okay, since i've been doing that for the past few years of my life and it's managed to serve me well and enable me to survive the singapore education system.

left with the conclusion again. sigh. always don't know what to say to sound smart, because i'm not smart, quite simply.

it's like 'wah lau' friday again.

i don't know whether to feel lucky or stressed cause like every week there has to be at least one major highlight. like a test last week, a paper to hand in the week before, one this week, a test next week, a test AND presentation the week after, blah blah.

like everything's so nicely planned.

and it's totally irrelevant but i feel damn bimbotic [this is not a word i would normally use to describe myself. idiotic, stupid, low IQ, weakling, retart blah blah are all better choices but in this context i really...] 

they said dancers have to sell 7 tickets for deepee so i was like hmm, 4 for family, then 4 for my friends. so i need 8 instead of 7 and changed my orders.

THEN IT HIT ME TODAY.

4 includes me, IDIOT!

4 friends = four of us = 3 of them + 1 of me

BIMBO

BIMBO

BIMBO

BIMBO

BIMBO

i must have been dreaming.

sigh, now one more to sell. i dont know who to sell to, and i don't think anyone would want to watch alone but i ll have to see how then.

i don't have the looks but definitely dumbness wise i have the potential to be a bimbo.

oh well :(

some days it's all hearts and flowers and rainbows and sunshine through the light drizzle and the grass is green and the sun is warm and kind and your laundry is drying so nicely outside and you're all girly and giggly and feeling pretty inside and everything is just so wonderful you marvel at life and all things living and you thank the stars for being alive and everything goes your way and everyone smiles at your and you do a great job

you know that everything is going to be fine.

other days, it's scribbles and dots and thick red cancel marks and you try to rub very hard but the stains just smear all over and it gets worse because you fall deeper and deeper into the pit hole and can't get out like there's no escape button or no erase/undo function and all you can do is continue feeling worthless ugly and shitty while upholding a pretentious front trying to make everybody happy while secretly squirming inside

and then that's when reality hits you,

because, really,

there is no such thing as fine.

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

soohf says the weather is nice.

i slept almost all day and missed all my lectures and woke up just only for training.

i know it's bad for doing laundry,

but i like that feeling.

but my fingers feel sad

because they feel very cold.

i wish i had a pocket i could put my hands into.

or something to keep them warm.

or maybe i wish i had stubs for hands like domokun.

i dont think he would ever feel cold.

bak gua asked me today during dance, half-way, while our side group was heaving heavily from exertion and taking a small rest between; 

'you're quite good eh, at dance i mean. 

what took you 3 years?'

good question.

that cannot be answered,

quite that simply, or in so few words.

because i couldn't leave.

sets was so good; the memories so fond,

when i was asked for the second time, i could not 

could not bring myself to say

'no'.

alas.

do so many suburis your hand turns sore; eat so much you feel like puking; dance so much your feet are aching; roll backwards so much your kneecaps are black and blue; emo so much you can't knock out of it.

not yet.

need to get into the emo zone.

shouldn't be that difficult.

come on, come on.

hit me now.

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

i like looking at girls' hair.

straight; wavy; curly; black; golden; mix-dyed; short; long; mid-length; bangs; no bangs; side-swept; pulled back; pinned up; let down;

but particularly, 

it's really kinda cute when they tie a ponytail and because it's not tight enough/its kinda loose it becomes slightly like poofy and roundish and it's slightly drooping and some strands are falling out a little. i dont know why but i adore it. but i simply cannot tolerate it myself. not on my head.

i love it when the pony tail comes loose, and then the girl just gets a little frustrated and pulls the rubber band away and lets the hair go free. it's so nice, cause you can just fling it around and it can go anywhere it wants freely, or according to which side your head goes, or the direction the wind blows or something. 

i guess if my hair didn't grow on my head, but was a separate entity on it's own,

maybe i would appreciate it much more.

cause i don't really think it's that great.

and all this hair talk...

it's really random, and maybe it sounds sick,

but i'm random anyway, so who cares?

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

i feel a little sad.

let's say your order one egg and one plaster, and it comes nicely packed in the packet with rubber band, and when you open it it's nice and warm. 

then you proceed to eat the egg [just a random thing since the egg prata happens to be on the top]. 

by the time you finish and want to start on the plaster,

the plaster is cold already =(

why?

why?

then you think to yourself,

why didn't i just order one instead?

cause cold pratas taste horrible,

just like eating cold flour. 

or dough, anyway.

but you look at the plaster sitting alone on the brown wrapping paper,

sitting alone, all by itself, cold, and not nice anymore,

and i kind of feel bad/sad for it.

so i eat it anyway,

and feel sad.

oh well.

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

almost there.

sigh.

i think we all know we engage in pathological behaviour of some sort, 

but we can't snap out of it. 

an old post, my personal favourite for now: [let me revise so i can get into the emo zone]

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

some things cannot be avoided;
cannot be dealt with;
reasoned, rationally;

like a drug addict drawn to his vice; a shoppaholic to her spending; a binge-eater to food; a bulimic to forced-puking; an OCD patient to her rituals and obsessions; a schizophrenic to imaginary voices; a drunkard to his alcohol; a wife to her abusive husband; a Münchausen's sufferer to feigning illnesses and symptoms; a depressive to self-mutilation; a girl to her tattoos; a boy to his piercings; a fan to his or her idol; a pessimist to his misgivings

uncontrollably drawn;
pulled towards;
absorbed into;
controlled;

we lie, we cheat,
we tell ourselves it will be alright;
we darenot say what lies ahead of us;
we dare not speak of what lies within us;

we will never be able to tell our mothers that we smoke pot; that we make out in the middle of cutting class; that we set the fire alarm on the spur of the moment; that we shoplift because of a silly dare; that we had sex out of peer pressure; that we stick out fingers into our throat in the toilet; that we leave scars and bloodstains on our wrists with pen knifes and tweezers; that we wash and scrub our hands until they turn red and sore; that all our good friends really dont exist; that we experience an unbelieveable high when we feel pain;


that sometimes because everything is out of control;
these are the only things we can do,
the only things we can grasp,
the only things we can hold;

that makes us feel alive.

nobody will ever know;
because nobody has the right to question,
and nobody ever should.

okay i decided.

maybe it's on the spur of the moment or whatever.

but i'll get it.

i won't regret.

i should have stayed and waited for hall breakfast at 7am,

or something.

scrambled eggs, ice milo, sausages, mac muffins, crispy hash browns...

aren't that great after all. 

cause mac breakfast is never as great as it's all made up to be.

so much for breakfast.

it's getting a little hard to stomach.

would you still love me without my hair?

without my cool, black eyeliner?

it's all the same.

normal days, when you're just going about your own business, 

you're a nobody, because you're nothing much, nothing special.

you lose a bit of weight; put some makeup; wear something different,

and suddenly they have their eyes all over you, as if you're someone else.

i guess we're all superficial deep inside,

we're just afraid to admit, 

or don't realise.

it turns me off, 

that i should feel good/repelled by something so small as this

shouldn't i have the freedom to dress the way i want, act the way i want, be who i want?

even if it's not who i usually seem to be? 

what makes you so appalled such that you have to question my behaviour?

do you even know me?

would you still love me,

minus the few thousand billion strands of protein keeping my head warm?

unconditional love can be so difficult,

sometimes.

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

i'm considering getting it.

just for the sake of it.

just something simple. 

i wonder what the feeling is like,

of the pain, of the exhaustion, of the change.

potential objections, shock and reject aside,

i'm really considering it. 

cost is also an issue; 

if its small it shouldn't be much,

but we'll see how things go, right?

it's much better than getting piercings; dyeing my hair, or getting extensions right?

it's time for a change.

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

i'm a hundred dollars poorer, but also a happy and very impressed person.

needless to say, mr A-Z was F-A-N-T-A-S-T-I-C.

man yan was gushing about how much better he was live, than on recording.

every minute, every moment; relish. 

every note, every tune, every melody, every smile, every action, every turn,

his voice is so wonderful.

so wonderful i don't think i can imagine him doing anything but singing.

a white collar office worker?  a blue collar construction worker? a stay-home dad? a funky-new-age teacher? a strict-laced government slave? a laidback 

and the way he touches peoples hearts; gives people laughs; and connects to them;

really priceless.

as he sang 'live high'

im not sure why, but i,

i think i felt tears brimming;

in the corner of my heavily lined eyes.

and i remember the time i first heard it;

when hartono sang it, during rag; and i was like,

what song is that?

how can you live high, live mighty, live righteously,

but take it easy?

but that's the way it should be, isn't it?

nothing is ever as it seems, and life is but a dream.

if life is but a dream,

dream it is, 

let me be,

a dreamer.

i have never seen so many cameras in my life.

second-hand ones, brand new ones, ones that i never knew existed, ones that i've only seen or heard before but never imagined i'd set eyes on; cameras older than all of our ages added up together of course, not the minituare cutesy pink/silver/sky blue coloured sony ones/other similar models in different brands that can fit nicely into the palm of your hand [right in the centre] and also in your back/breast pocket.

no words can express the rush of excitement and adrenaline in my body as i raced past the shop fronts, stopped and plastered my face against the glass panels and oogled and drooled at the cameras in pure awe and for all and sundry to see.

not that it mattered anyway.

exciting.

i think i just found my new haunt.

like the protractor i didn't bring to my PSLE exam; 

the eraser i forgot for my MCQ shading sheet;

the water bottle i left underneath the desk;

the roll of film in my camera i didn't finish;

the pile of clothes i didn't put in the wash;

the friend i made but lost contact with;

the sketch i drew but threw away;

the button that fell off my blouse;

the answer i changed last minute;

the letter i wrote but didn't give;

i promised myself it would be the last time.

silly,

naive,

foolish,

really stupid,

out-of-my-freaking-mind.

okay no more.

i pressed the button.

really the very last time.

goodbye!

if i repeat it many times,

it will eventually become true,

so,

behappybehappybehappybehappy

forgetforgetforgetforgetforgetforget

lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala [this is so you, ash! =) i miss you man]

it will work.

i think.

it will.

for four hours today i did absolutely nothing.

if my father knew what i was doing in between 'studying' in school,

i think he would definitely ask me to go back home to stay. haha.

not really nothing, but nothing eventful.

i took a while deciding what to wear; then i took a super long bus ride on 33 all the way to ikea.

i ordered meatballs and broccoli, daim cake and coffee, and sat at the high table next to the window where the sunlight seeped in, and ate slowly, as if i had all the time in the world. between meatballs, i listened to music, took out my sketchbook, and drew/sketched people eating, talking, laughing, frowning, looking away, looking at me. 

sometimes eating alone can be such a chore;

and i've always considered eating a social activity,

so usually if i'm alone i just grab a bite,

or just sleep/starve it over and all,

but today was special.

it's something i always wanted to do.

then i got up, after my second cup of coffee, and proceeded to get a ikea shopping bag to put the barang barang i intended to buy.

ikea has this amazing ability to make you feel at ease.

it feels almost/even better than home...

and it has the amazing ability to make you want to buy/find a use for everything they're selling.

even some random looking pot, or some brightly coloured kid's table. 

and lamps.

i think i almost wanted to buy every lamp that was marked down.

especially all the hanging ceiling ones! so pretty... sigh...

there's just something special about light...

that draws me to it, like somehow...

and i bought an apron!

i don't cook, but 

i can paint =)

now without staining all my favourite hall/team nus shirts! haha.

can't wait to use it while helping out at sets/rag. so exciting!

alright, 

shall try to study now,

goodbye!

more than supre dresses, more than smses from you, more than sunny days, more than feel-good trainings, more than waffles for breakfast, more than surprising surprises, more than transparent umbrellas, more than fong seng milo peng, more than satisfying sex, more than chewy jelly beans, more than lecturers with charming voices, more than lazy afternoons, more than poofy pillows,


this.



compared to the dainty plastic prince, [golden half]
the kind of quirky split half,
the good ol' holga [which i haven't tried yet],
the fun but not so practical fisheye,
and the modest ikimono,


this is like

a real man.







hell, i know i have like 5? cameras already.
and i have absolutely no time to play around with film, develop the photos, blah blah.
but when i saw this, and the price marked down to 29.99USD...
works out to be approximately 50 including shipping...
it's limited edition, and i always wanted a diana...
plus it was going for 65 before this man!
it's going for 105 on 8storeytree...

i just knew i had to....
well,

do something.

i haven't done so yet, but... i have the feeling i will do something sometime this week.
and should i get this?
























the fisheye 2 is so much better than 1 [at least the viewfinder isn't partially obstructed -.-]...
i don't really like the exterior copper-ish look of it, but looks are the least of my concerns...
and plus the price is marked down from 75 to a neat 49.99 too... which works out to be around 80-85? it's darn reasonable, considering it's including shipping and postage...
it's retailing for 145 outside!

and while i was surfing urban outfitters checking out their new markdowns,
i saw
THIS.


like they couldn't come out with this earlier!
like,
URGHHHHHH!!!!!
*pulls hair*

they had the nerve to make it in all white, some random silver colour; an annoying pink; a friendly blue, but they just didn't think about making it in green,

UNTIL NOW.








okay there's no markdown for this so i won't be getting this, and plus i have this already:





















urgh crap!
why do cameras make me go weak on the knees!

a friend once lamented to me that the concepts behind economics are fundamentally flawed because of the primary assumption that humans are rational beings.

some things cannot be avoided;
cannot be dealt with;
reasoned, rationally;

like a drug addict drawn to his vice; a shoppaholic to her spending; a binge-eater to food; an OCD patient to her rituals and obsessions; a schizophrenic to imaginary voices; a drunkard to his alcohol; a wife to her abusive husband; a Münchausen's sufferer to feigning illnesses and symptoms; a depressive to self-mutilation; a girl to her tattoos; a boy to his piercings; a fan to his or her idol; a pessimist to his misgivings

uncontrollably drawn;
pulled towards;
absorbed into;
controlled;

we lie, we cheat,
we tell ourselves it will be alright;
we darenot say what lies ahead of us;
we dare not speak of what lies within us;

we will never be able to tell our mothers that we smoke pot; that we make out in the middle of cutting class; that we set the fire alarm on the spur of the moment; that we shoplift because of a silly dare; that we had sex out of peer pressure; that we stick out fingers into our throat in the toilet; that we leave scars and bloodstains on our wrists with pen knifes and tweezers; that we wash and scrub our hands until they turn red and sore; that all our good friends really dont exist; that we experience an unbelieveable high when we feel pain;


that sometimes because everything is out of control;
these are the only things we can do,
the only things we can grasp,
the only things we can hold;

that makes us feel alive.

nobody will ever know;
because nobody has the right to question,
and nobody ever should.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
today i ate waffles for breakfast.

they were nice,
but i wish there was peanut butter.

and maybe maple syrup.

and you know what?

on the bus back home today i saw some guy dug his nose.
he kind of tried [unsuccessfully] to be discreet about it.
but you'd think that it's hard to be discreet,
about such things -.-



and i realise there must be more to me than noses,
because for a while today i stole a few glances,
[even though i know i should really stop]

and your nose is far from perfect, really.