Muse

As of January 1st

2012-01-10T16:51:00.003+08:00

As of January 1st,
Me and you leap across our youth,
200 miles apart.

We left the carefree days behind sheer curtains,
And slide into our daily conundrums,
Finding answers and questions.

As of January 8,
We set the date to save,
For yesterday and tomorrow shall not be forgotten.

We'll make the clock tick faster,
And renounce all fears,
Because you and I are worth it.

When it rains, it pours

2011-12-06T15:43:00.002+08:00

I really cannot understand how wearing a sleeveless top could ever deny anybody entry into an office compound. And to top that off, I had to spend 5 minutes being toyed and mocked by a guard. Wow. Didn't know being a guard held so much power. It must be a great ego stroke for him when he check me out from head to toe, then asked me to ask myself why I can't enter the premises.

And I really couldn't tell if his English is really poor or he's just ill bred with much misconstrued idea of how a lady should dress. Because despite me genuinely answering him that I do not have a clue of why I cannot enter, he kept asking me over and over again, with that lecherous smirk on his face, "Ask yourself-lah why you cannot enter. You betul betul tak tahu atau pura-pura tak tau?"

Well, fucker, I really don't have time for you so why don't you just get to fucking point. If I can't enter, so be it. It's not like my life depends on it and not as it I'll go crying by your feet and give you a blow job just to step foot into the compound you're guarding. Bloody hell. That guard did get delusional in that small little box of his.

So that would be my anger ranting. Now back to civilized discussion.

Respect.

It really is a very common courtesy, which I think everyone should have, regardless your race, status, occupation and sex. I can be a prostitute all I want and I believe I still be treated with respect. The phrase saying "Customer is always right" should have been tossed out the window aeons ago. The fact that you are paying for a product/services only gives you the consumers' right, not any other rights to humiliate and demand all-you-can-ask-for. Last I check, the business relationship is a two way traffic. If I don't give, you don't get. So be nice.

And in the event I am wrong or in any case had offended me, an adult and mature response would had been to tell me in the face directly and politely. I would had just apologized and come back appropriately dressed. Instead of spending 5 minutes of word twister, eyes roaming and lips snickering. How hard is it to be polite?

And despite having been the topic of many discussions, even in the parliament, some men just failed at grasping the fact that the dressing of a woman does not determine an outcome of behaviour. Such Paleolithic opinion is gritting on my nerves especially when there are so many preconceptions and rules on how a female should dress/behave.

We do not just belong in the kitchen
Nor do we have to sit through our husband wrath and be a whore in the bed to keep him from committing adultery.
Neither do we have to mind our dressing to deter rapist.

Why?

Because last I check, men and women are of the same species. Each superior in their own way. And I am not even fighting for feminism damn it. Just give us the respect we deserve. Because imagine if in the past, the men are the one being suppressed and kept in the kitchen while the women went out and hunt. How different would today's society be?

There is no dictum or rule set in stone that dictates the female sex being inferior to others or homosexuals being abnormal. The status quo of gender we see today comes not from any sacred texts. It came from generations and generations of societal conditioning. And just because it is the practiced norm doesn't mean it is the right thing to do.

To think that in the 21st century, we still have the mentality of the dark ages. It's disgracing and detestable that I felt like spitting on you. Luckily, I was bred better than you..

Thank you.

The jingles and mingles and shingles..

2011-12-03T00:46:00.001+08:00

All I want for Christmas...
(=

And thus December frowns

2011-12-03T00:16:00.003+08:00

Common.

A six-letter word I had always feared.

Fear.

A four-letter word I had always denied.

Denial.

Another six-letter word that worked my pretentiousness.

Pretence.

This seven-letter word is my escapism.

Twenty three words to help you delve deeper into an understanding of me. Or not.
I am in fear of the future and in denial of my commonness thence pretending to be somebody elses in my little room.
I had always loved the game of "Let's pretend". I used to dress up in my aunt's or mom's clothes and jewellery when I thought everybody else was asleep. Well, at least I thought they were. I love pretending to be adults then.

I wonder why, since after 20 years into the future, I now want to pretend I'm a kid who don't quite know the woes of an adult.
I wish.

Wish.

A powerful yet dangerous four-letter word. For they can give you hope, yet take away your dreams and everything you have, if you are not careful.
Everybody have wishes, wants and fantasies.
I am everybody.
The goals and standards I set for myself stands proud like the Eiffel tower. Tall, majestic and as proud as the French. No offense. (=
but, I have yet to achieve them all, or place a tick at each and everyone of them.

I don't even have a 10 year plan like what a friend of mine did. Almost thought my future is headed for the ruins.
But we sat over coffee sometime ago and revised that memory.
Plans are organized thoughts. They are not set in stone. Our thoughts and life cannot be weaved together and paved like a stone walkway.
Then I realized, the whole time I lie awake in bed, worrying about how my life would turn out, how many dogs I'll have, what my house would look like, I was being a redundant insomniac.

Redundant.

Because this nine-letter word smacks me in the face every time I torture myself with unnecessary guilt, rage and self-pity. No amount of lamentations is going to work my thoughts into projects or cold hard cash. I rather the cat slap me on my cheeks with its still pink paws so that I wake every morning to accomplish what I drew up on my mind the night before.

Meowr.

Time to fill up the forms. Get the paperworks done. My heart had already been tenderized for the start of my career next year by the stories and rants of a future colleague. Funny, how I would let myself end up in a place I never thought I'll end up at all.

Au revoir to the student's life. Here begins the transition of all my twenty three-letters into my favourite seven : strength.

Cause baby I love you more.

2011-11-08T01:03:00.003+08:00

People may come and go,
But men best friend are here to stay,
Till time claim their body,
All those licks and nudges and adoring gazes remain.

Mom said she was heavier because we're carrying her soul as well as her cold cold body

amsk

2011-11-06T01:50:00.000+08:00

Hi!

Catching back the night

2011-10-25T02:04:00.003+08:00

And bed bugs bite you raw, while you count sheeps in vain.

When sheeps fade away,

the silent tick of the clock found its way inside your head,

reminding you of each minute you spent awake in bed.

Morning comes, but your night begins.

Before long, the rhythm is gone.

We grew weary and angry, but have none to blame.

Missing turns and not knowing where the road is going,

consequentially of the hours you knock off Mr. Sleep.

I dream of a dream.

Where the sky is dark with a highlight at the horizon.

Stars are drawn close,

like fireflies on your fingertips.

Sweet sweet air,

trailing in tendrils up every breath you are aware of.

On luscious carpet of grass,

I rest my head upon.

Just sing me the song,

And drown me in lullaby

Bringing back India

2011-10-06T19:29:00.001+08:00

Gateway to India
2010
The incredibles with Sher, John and Lawrence

I think I'm thinking correctly

2011-10-06T02:28:00.002+08:00

Can I pluck myself and place me on the rooftop?
I think to myself "Why not?"
But I never did
I wonder why
And that happens only a couple of thousand times
I think I should get a camera
I think to myself "Should I?"
I know I never will
Not for now
Funny, I kept questioning myself rhetorically.
Simply because I think I'm amusing at times
I think.

If I die young

2011-10-06T01:40:00.000+08:00

Funny, how the present loves comparing the past

A saved draft

2011-08-29T12:50:00.007+08:00

You know they do....

My past time favourite activity includes people watching.
I'll seat myself somewhere with a cuppa and my Mac and my pair of eyes straying about the sea of people.
I'm not hoping to catch the sight of mermaid.
I'm definitely not eavesdropping on audible conversation.
I'm just sitting there in my imaginary world.

When you're in the city
Or the little town
The voice, the talk, where the hand settles.
That fake Louis Vuitton, the draping neckline, the wince from the 5 inch stilleto,
Because every people in the room has a story.
Some may tell it, some may not.

I forgot when I stopped writing
Slowed down on my books
Or enjoyed straying out alone.

sad eyes

2011-07-05T00:55:00.003+08:00

Seeing people change isn't what hurts.

What hurts is remembering who they used to be.

2000

I was young, very very young. Foolish? Maybe. Naive? Perhaps. But 2000 yes, I remember 2000, as I'm sure they would too.

It was heart wrenching to unravel back into my past. I'd already forgotten about stashing them in a box somewhere in the locker locked with the keys lost. Well, clearly you don't need a key for everything. Because you still want them to come back and haunt you one day, just to relinquish on the past bitter memories, to remind you that you were once there, vulnerable and foolish and in pain.

Even without a key, you would pry with a screwdriver to open up all that pieces of paper that was abused by your angst and bitterness. I know I did.

And I sat on the floor for 4 hours, trying to relive my past. All the amnesia and patches of blanks in memories are filled up once more. Today is a better day, yes. But from 2000 till now, that would be 11 years gnawing and teeth grinding and salt-stained papers. I don't remember the days I was as carefree and oblivious anymore. I forgot when things started to matter, when people started to matter and when I no longer fit in the equation.

I don't remember getting here. I don't think I really want to recall at all. Suddenly I don't want anything at all. Cause you reminded me of how low and undeserving and unbecoming I can be. And I knew it all along. I believed it all along. And I had already become. It takes more than your hand and words to turn me about. I'd come so far I gave up turning back a long time ago.

Despite vowing for a difference, I'm broken in every single way. I now realized why the bad dreams are back. They never left. I just got disillusioned in my bouts of spring. Winter is ahead but I didn't think it'll hit be before I even set foot.

Shouldn't had opened pandora's box right?

White on Black

2011-05-25T13:18:00.003+08:00

I'll like to see my world in black and white and shades of grey.
There's just to many color to count

Health streak!

2011-04-15T16:44:00.004+08:00

It was one of those days where I woke feeling underachieved, unmotivated, ugly and most unhealthy.

In essence, I woke feeling like clicking refresh. hoping to see some new changes in things around you.

I would wait to see if my hair is growing long and straight in pure lustrous ebony.

I'll check myself in the mirror to see if I lost a couple of pounds, twirling a pirouette oh so perfect and can make a professional ballerina go pfft.

Then I'll open the door and hope to see my balcony overlooking the azure blue ocean and awesome wind frolicking my hair.

Yes it is one of those days you wake thinking why not me?

But yeah, that's just me all over and over ranting periodically over the inapparent inadequacy when there's a whole lot others who deserve more rant-time than I do.

Heh. I'm ranting over the fact I'm ranting. Like wtf right? I know.

Life at current

(Morning)

mostly I am still in bed.

or I'll be in the wards tagging my role models.

-I am still wondering how I end up there-

or I'll lie in bed awake

(Afternoon)

usually my day begin in the afternoon

when the room's too hot to just lie in bed doing nothing

when the room just get too choked up

that's when I get up to ransack the kitchen

and cook something up

or I'll just whip out my comfort food and watch sex and the city on his mac

long naps do happen occasionally

or coffeebean/starbucks might get a visit from me while I get on my tumblr addiction

(Night)

my day begins

usually my first meal starts here

-evenings, not night-

work

reading

writing

typing

talking

more more eating

Heading out perhaps?

and sleep comes at 3-4 am only

how unhygienic can I get?

So yeah, what were the changes I would like to add?

Wake and start jogging in the morn before class EVERYDAY ('cept for weekends)
Add my blended fruits regime back in my diet. Mebbe slot in in during lunch.
Cook more. I love cooking. It's my panacea. I probably had mentioned this over and ocer but this is an over-and-over post.
More in-house exercise! (sneak up nerf attack) It always leave me breathless after each 15 minutes session. And such great contentment *grins*
Dedicate a section off to managing my moleskine and scrapbook and crafty thingy.

You can't stop global whining while I'm still alive.

2011-04-06T20:17:00.000+08:00

It was a tremulous feeling to have so many unsifted thoughts running through your mind. They kept you in jitters and gave the illusion that your heart is racing though it's pacing normally. It's just strange, how it comes and go and caught you off guard every now and then without reason.

I hate that a lot of things are without reason these days.

But I don't like giving reasons sometimes. So I suppose I have no grounds to whine about it. Annoying. But I could live with it. There's actually a lot of things I should be doing but just don't feel like it.

I'm building houses and plucking pictures instead. Cooking up a dream sounds more superliciously interesting than running a survey or waking to a hurdling commitment. The babies no longer fascinates. The morning sun no long brings about freshness. I'm tired. And cranky. And needy. And listless, restless, everything less.

The room is choking, but I can't summon that much energy to make it spit me out. The bones are moaning in protest. So? I still don't get up. Salmon and soups are swimming in my head but when I stand in the kitchen, it's just looked at me and said, "Get out!". So I got out, all dolled out and scented. Keys checked, Mac checked. So where are we heading they asked.

Dunno. Coffeebean or Starbucks? "Coffeebean!" they chorused in unison. Okays then. Same order, same table, same routine. Tumblr, facebook, mail and music. The textbooks made an appearance once in a while. They placate the rumbling, unsettled emotion. But never for long. And its everyday everyday affair.

So what went wrong? Where did it went wrong? Who made that wrong turn? When did all my routine no longer serves as my panacea? Why now? How did I get thrown back into my own hellhole? Windowless, unfamiliar and insubstantial.

I don't want to go back for my prescription.

Monday

2011-03-21T11:54:00.001+08:00

Elegance is not the prerogative of those who have just escaped from adolescence, but of those who have already taken possession of their future.

- Coco Chanel-

Mei

2011-03-20T12:10:00.000+08:00

The morning feels like night. This night feels like swirls of stars mashed up with the moon, viewed from inside a spinning tea-cup, floating nonchalantly in the ocean.

Sinking within that padded tea-cup, somewhat lost in the streaming tears and silent sobs. The lullaby sailing past ears and I am the sole listener. The waves and sirens of the ocean can't be heard, for all I'm hearing is the sound of my thought scrambling to speak, the melancholy of the song trying to break free of its grounded sorrow.

Don't remember when I climbed in or set sail or left the shore I created in my head. Dreams are funny in these ways. They don't show you the beginning or the end. They deprive you from the cause and consequences but they let you watch the making of it.

The land of in between, thus when I'm finally made awake, I felt robbed. Unsatisfied. Angry even sometimes.

My back is turned on so many things I forget which marble of memory is a figment of imagination, or which is something real.

Tea-cup now sound like a great place to be. If only I have an ocean to myself, then I'll launch my bone china detailed in twirls of blue and gold, padded with maroon velvet which smells faintly like lemons. Will lie on my back waiting for the wind to pick up and twirl me about. Then we can watch the stars zig-zag in pseudomovements. The moon may just stay in his place and bemused at the paradoxical camaraderie of a single girl in a teacup.

Strange even, that these tears can't dry. Stranger even that they came without reason. Weird, that it came like a snap and left in a blink.

We walked alone the crowded street. The stares were blank as the whitewash wall. The scent stopped pulling nor the flesh is pushing it away. Every song is now haunting as that lurking shadow somewhere inside the teacup. I thought the sun is out, so who's casting shadows all over? Almost lover almost bring back the 15 minutes. But it can't be helped now can it when it's looped for half an hour now.

The rain cleared. I think I should head to wards.

I have a Karen Millen Obsession.

2011-03-18T17:05:00.000+08:00

Damn. It's so hard to quell a shopping when there's dresses floating all over the world wide web. Love all the nudes and blacks and ruffles and pleats. Even if I don't have a function to wear them to, having them all hanging pretty in my closet would be more than satiating.

Really.

the "ifs" in the world that would cease to matter anyway

2011-03-16T16:24:00.000+08:00

if there is one thing I'm getting bored of,

*...it's growing up*

if I get to start on a project,

*I'll collect all my memories on a rack*

if I get to design my room,

*I'll build a balcony room*

If you ever ever need to get me a house-warming gift,

*Wake - bacon clock* -wakes you up with the smell of toasted bacon*

10

2011-03-04T00:57:00.000+08:00

After all these years, I still have to explain myself.

LoLs.

Why do I like the clicks?

2011-02-27T15:04:00.000+08:00

I remember why I love photography. Not because I can capture the moment. But because I can relate.

Telling a story through pictures and photos reflects my entirety. Because some things, emotions can never be articulated into words, phrases or sentences. An object or a person with its its surrounding works together to bring about that thought I want to express. A lot more simpler than typing out or forming those words in my head. I get lost for words more than you can imagine. I am never a good story teller to begin with. I can't tell a good story or my own story for that matter. The only thing I can talk with you is when you are down and you need help. Those are the only words that come to me naturally.

Pictures are versatile. And you get to re-interpret, mis-interpret or not interpret the meaning and significance of a photo however you want. I don't care. You see the world in your light as I see my world in my own light. Ambiguity. Yes, that is the word I like to describe myself.

Still moments and everyday objects each invoke a different nostalgia/emotion/memory in each individual. And perhaps that is why I just love looking at so many pictures.

Perhaps I should start taking stacks of pictures with me. So whenever some stranger come sitting at my coffee table, I'll just start flashing them like placards as part of a conversation. I wonder if they might think I'm mute/psycho/weird?

Pet Peeves X)

2011-02-23T00:01:00.000+08:00

Pet

Not so tall

Slightly squinty

Vain

Fancy mirrors

High maintenance

Sugar junkie

Loves his lenses more than me

Speaks car lingo

Has annoyingly long lashes

Lies but don't admit it

Can be mistaken as a girl over the phone

Ultimate copy-me-cat

Mastered the skills of creeping up silently on someone

Bully

But I am a step above you in all the above! How else can I handle you?

*grins*

So yeah,

Happy Birthday Andrew Mak

where did the good times go?

2011-02-22T19:59:00.000+08:00

Monash JB Clinical School (2009)

Asia Cafe (2009)

Delicious by Ms Read (2009)

Planet Hollywood (2008)

Putri Indah (2009)

Genting Highlands (2008)

Riddle Diddle

2011-02-14T01:43:00.000+08:00

I want, but I don't want

I don't need but I need

It's okay, but it's not

I don't care but it matters

I love it but I hate it

I'm alright but I'm not

So what am I?

P.S The cupid has been hazardous!

Hullo

2011-02-11T00:28:00.001+08:00

monologues are fun. and dangerous. and hazardous. yupps

Marigolds Merrygolds, We're waiting for you to unfold

2011-02-10T20:55:00.000+08:00

Sun is sprightly like the morning light in spring.

I'm tripping over bumps and cracks on the wooden floor of the patio.

Lil' white flowers in the emerald green bushes

I'm smelling them with a tiny button nose I never knew I had

His big hands came ruffling my tousled hair

Yellow marigolds, he always called it

Locks curling in and out his fingers

Little fingers touching his deep wrinkles

Getting caught in the furrows of his frowns

And he sang butterfly kisses

Twirling me in my smocked frills

The whole world seemed dizzy dizzy

When the last bit of sun escaped

The world was swallowed whole

And I woke touching my pierced nose and covered by my black hair.

Pfft.

thursday

2011-02-03T01:26:00.001+08:00

bang bang. you're dead.

Memory Keeper

2011-01-27T16:43:00.000+08:00

We all have our own assigned memory keeper.

The journal.

The diary.

The confidante.

That box of nostalgic objects stored and stashed in the most insignificant places.

The photo albums.

Mine is in my itunes. Each song with their lyrics are my own story to tell in someway. I like how each stringed notes evoke a different memory and emotion each time they are played.

I feel like a bars of Mars earlier. Of Snickers. I was staring into space at "Beautiful Mess"by Mraz earlier. Sipped tea and wished I had a field with kites to sit in with my book. But am trapped somewhere in the towering concrete jungle with no desirable timing to embark on a quest to find a park.

At 5pm in Sunway, you need a certain degree of patience and foolishness to head out road-tripping. Because you know all you will get is this notorious massive carpark jam. All the Mars bars and Snickers couldn't save your temper.

Hmmm. Mars baars.....Snicckerss.....

Now I wish I carry my Mr simms jellybeans around.

Roar.

Catharsis

2011-01-27T15:29:00.000+08:00

Sun kisses the earth

And the leaves held on the urge to reach

But the finger we already coming forth,

Plucking the dew-dropped fronds from the ground.

And who to hear out the silent screams but her alone.

Friday Friday Friday

The alarm barely woke this dreary mind and yet it has been rudely awaken.

We were all running away away again this time.

The murderers and mercenaries and zombies and monsters.

None could catch up no matter how close they came by

Even if she could feel their breath down her nape,

They couldn't catch her.

And there, she'll be forever on her feet,

Wheeling on dirts and stairs and puddles.

Who's the masquerade behind the facade her fear?

Who's to say when this dreams were coming?

Who's will wake her from the sleeps?

The music played low,

Soothing in its own domain

Pulling all the sinewy thoughts and drained limbs back home.

The lids open back into the darkness

But we couldn't see the difference in both the worlds.

We wonder we wonder,

Timelessly

Aimlessly

Frivolously

That maybe, she's trying to break free, away from her.

DC_0816

2011-01-24T01:59:00.000+08:00

Her hair was long. Her hug was tight. Her cheeks were full and her smile was big. It was a camaraderie in the oddest of places.

For amongst the drips and white linen sheets, there were laughter. Loud bellowing laughters from all of us. The crowd were rowdy. The music too loud, but the nurses and patients were oblivious.

No death gloom nor the smell of antiseptics can dampen our party spirit. Party was the word I chose because we were really partying. There was alcohol and streamers and music. We were dancing and screaming and laughing. She may be on her bed, upstairs in the ward but I can feel her humming along the bass beats and tapping her finger along the bed railings. I don't remember the words you said to me, but I remember you saying it.

I hope you're telling me you are happy, cause that was the way the dream made me felt.

Funny, how we manage to meet again this way.

We miss you so.

Twenty-eleven

2011-01-18T20:29:00.000+08:00

Hey.

The new calendar year has moved in along with the cold Artic wind. But the last days in December is already feeling archaic. Or is it just the time lapse of the dreading heart? But what was there to dread at the start of another 2011?

Another 2011... Pfft! Like I've been there once upon in the past. Perhaps, somewhere in the corner of my mind, I had conjured up 2011 once. And having to relive it on real grounds seems a tad too disappointing.

I helped myself to ample time of sleep and what if's and pointless poignant thoughts. I relish in the idea of an addition . I believe in the turn of times. I planned a thousand falls and one happy ending.

But all I get was the many ways I'm shredded down to the barest elements. The many windows lifting up the shed tears rolling down the cheeks in bed. I remember not wanting that hug. I remember running away. I don't recall the times I actually wanted something.

Because the only thing I remember was how all this would end.

The year had already ticked solemnly. The smiles faded as fast as it was formed. The loss of a familiar face. The sudden truth of how fragile and how unexpected one life is demanding a whole chunk of gaping void inside this numbskull of mine. The tears couldn't had formed for it was illegal. The silent mourn was acceptable. But who am I to say its okay to cry and that she would be released from her sufferings? That perhaps she wanted more to life than to rot away in the ground? I know I would want that.

But would you rather give up? Is dying something you should accept or fight for? When do we stop fighting? When do we not fight and not deny? Funny how I am ranting when even he put up the bravest front and smile chin up. I feel most undeserving for the tears I did not held back.

Lost one. Losing one.

I don't know if I'm running away once more but it sure feels like it. I do wanna love you. I do wanna try. But I can't even remember why and where and when. I don't even know how I ended up back to 2009. I don't remember your face or your voice or how it feels to have you beside.

And we begin another year with failing discipline and rain clouds. How morbid and distasteful can I get.

Roar.

It takes forever to write this cause I don't know where to begin

2010-12-29T17:52:00.000+08:00

The day has been long.
The sky perhaps was dark
The eyes been rebelling.
And that was how we met.

In a hospital on the bench somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

So how would I describe this bestie of mine?

For one, she's a pretty darn hot chick packaged with 2 dimples and her tail Raye.
And, I never met someone who can make so many lame jokes that I memorized them all XD
She spoilt me with so many gifts I feel pampered. When you're single, having her as a bestie is even better than having a boyfie. *grins*
Also, she would be the only one to hop into the car with me at a whim. That no longer applies though. Oldie.. Tsk... *Heeeee*
Her heart of gold and her sincerest intention to help the world is perhaps the only thing that still made me believe in the good of men.
And when we both starts on talking, the conversation never seems to run dry. And I like how it feels good having someone to listen when I needed to spill.
My final seventh. You are just amazing in the many ways you chose to be. Despite having to sit through my mood swings and my temper, I reckon we make quite an amazing pair!

So yeah, Happy Birthday Det! For having sit through each another's ups and downs, I can't wait to head into the future, open my album and point to pictures of us together and tell to the world, "Damn. All my besties look good!"

Love,
Mei

Aww

2010-12-17T00:37:00.000+08:00

It is, more than often, easier to love a dog than a man.

Oneiros

2010-12-16T01:04:00.000+08:00

We are old
Ancient like the deeply rooted tree
We were perfect
Like the sphere we believed we lived in.
But the days had passed
And I no longer remember how to hear you
Or look at you
Because I lost you long time back.

I do not relinquish my days of sleeplessness. I hope you did not came back because you miss me Mr Sandman. I did not kill you off for fun you know? Wait, it was Mr Insomnia I killed, not you Dreammaker. Thanks for all those weird imagery you placed in my head though.

Definitely healthy substance for the mind of a developing young adult. Or not. What are you trying to say when you keep plastering the same face in my scene? Or digging out that piece of memory I locked away? You don't get to unlock my memories without my permission! I am still the dreamer you twat. I hate it when you spun my undesires into wants. I hate it when you twist my sense of logic and spun a whole tangled web of confusion.

Why take me back to where I begin? Now I'm waking at 4 making pasta, sleeping at 6 and ignoring the world save the ones who mattered.

I know you love me. But perhaps you should let go know. I moved on. Perhaps you should to. Cause I don't think I can handle the eyebags and zombie makeup. I do goth, not the walking dead.

So shoo!

Wishlist

2010-12-11T22:03:00.000+08:00

It's Christmas on its way once more..

Bubble snow
Sunset walls
Starry ceilings
Fireflies in a jar
Wooden pier
Knitted jumper
Leather gloves
Baby beagles
Smoked salmon bagel
Kisses under the mistletoe
Silent hugs
Swings in the park
A scarf
A pair of heels I can put on and sigh without a frown
And lastly, a camera to commemorate them all

Midway on the highway

2010-12-11T16:59:00.000+08:00

The Moon hids
And the stars are shy
The torch died
And out came the fireflies.

You would know if you want to be my friend or not when I ask you:
"Wanna go for a ride hundreds of kilometers away from here now?"
*grins*

My unabashed hypocritic life

2010-12-09T15:15:00.000+08:00

Nothing is more familiar than the air conditioned space, a cup of overpriced coffee and masses of conformists.

And here I am lounging comfortably, waiting for time to tick by, all dressed to fit in the crowd of corporate drinkers and cliques of urbanites. And to think I'm back home in my small quaint town. I kept forgetting that this is Taiping. 6 years away from home and I can't say I'm the same. I've crawled far from where I was bred and born.

Mom always said that given the chance, I would definitely be the first to sprint away from home. I wouldn't deny that one bit.

Changes.

Some love it, some hate it, some ambivalent.

I, personally hate it. I miss a lot of the old times. The un-bitter past, the uncomplicated life and the accepted ignorance. And suddenly we are all grown up. And not so suddenly, everyday is a like a walk through tall reeds. You can't see what's ahead, just what's around. The excitement dies after a while. People are around you amongst the reeds. You hear them, but can't quite see them. Just that rustling sound and the faint calls. You can't tell if it's the wind or their voices.

You're alone still essentially. But you know you'll find them somehow sometime soon. But it scares you if they'll find you in time when you need them.

But of course, that is just one version of it. I'm sure your portrayal of life can be more vibrant. Who knows? I has been always been in love with the melancholy and bitterness of life. At least recently.

Owh well, going nostalgic about the past has been fun. But time to head on.

I wonder where will I land this time?

2.31 am Nov 9 2010

2010-11-09T02:29:00.000+08:00

I'm tired.

Can I gve up on you now?

Reshuffle

2010-11-09T00:45:00.000+08:00

I would love to wake up everyday, not knowing what took place yesterday, and not knowing what comes after today. I want to forget the faces I'd painstakingly register throughout these years in fear of forgetting them. I want to walk in the streets where nobody glances knowingly.

It'll be soothing to sit down and not remember the apologies you failed to utter, hugs you selfishly witheld, pride you could never hold on to and makeshift principles as you see fit. It'll be lovely indeed if I can go to bed tonight and click Ctrl + Alt + Delete.

Wonder who do I want to become tomorrow..

Batmin!

2010-11-05T15:37:00.000+08:00

Hehehehehe!
I needed to make myself laugh.

For you...

2010-11-01T17:52:00.000+08:00

She said she wanted to get high.
So he took her to the tallest hill in town

She said she wanted to stay up whole night and drink.
He gave her a twelve-pack caffeinated pepsi and said to drink up.

She said she wanted to shoot herself in the face.
He gave her a watergun, put her finger at the trigger, aimed it at her face and helped pull.

She wanted to cut herself.
He took a polaroid of her, handed it to her along with a scissors and had her cut it up.

She said she wanted to see blood.
He took her to get her ears pierced.

She said she wanted to cry herself to sleep.
He had her watch a sad romantic movie before bed.

She said she wanted to be alone.
He gave her a name-tag that said "My name is Alone"

She said she wanted someone there to take care of her.
He asked when he wasn't?

lisamariee

Annoyance: An epitome

2010-11-01T16:46:00.000+08:00

I know this girl.
She loves snipping bits of hair,
Here and there.
Especially in agitation.
MORE so in deep unrest.
She loves being preoccupied,
Just not with obligatory work with deadlines.
Still moments are not her forte.
But solitude moments are adored.
In the event of repetitive motions of flipping pages through an academic text,
She thinks to herself:
"Where to find a gardenia bush to stuff my face in??"

-mmhmfpt-

A depiction

2010-10-26T02:54:00.000+08:00

Frolicking in tandem with my-self, even without realizing

A captured frame of my utmost adored anatomy

A lovely painting of silver stars and golden arches

A parallel epitome of bold eccentricity

A notch above the world, the highest my toe can stroke the sky

A stroll in the drizzle, just the way I like it

A lovely thing draped in the color I love

A portraiture against my all time favourite spot

A piece of colorful display echoing my chaotic sense of humor

A pantry lined with my all time favourite ingredients

A timeless combination I adored endlessly

Panacea

2010-10-23T00:36:00.000+08:00

Ingrid Michaelson
"Can't Help Falling In Love With You"

I've sank to the bottom of this whirpool at the sound of you. I am crying endlessly, oh so mercilessly, at the melancholy of you. I will be remembering the way, I can't help falling in love with you.

arr arr!

2010-10-20T16:44:00.000+08:00

Puppy.

At the side of the road, partially hidden by the tall willowy grass.

In a daze, not fazed by the traffic of men.

And I am reminded of my babies.

When they were younger.

When they were a whiny crybaby

And I was their warm-patting bed.

I love how they splay their soft bodies on my chest,

Staring at me with that sleepy eyes

Cries wimpering down to hiccups

Lids fluttering shut.

I remember watching them heave up and down to my breathing

Waking me up with all that snuggling and licking.

Damn.

Who needs blanket if you have a litter?

(=

2010-10-20T00:04:00.000+08:00

I'll make the most of all the sadness,
You'll be a bitch because you can.
You try to hit me just to hurt me
So you leave me feeling dirty
Because you can't understand.

"Slow Dancing In The Burning Room" - John Mayer

Day 6

2010-10-19T22:14:00.000+08:00

I see the mosaics on the floor

And I hear you sing to me this lullaby

But I can't recall the words you put together

Or the reason behind your smile

For all I see was the blend of colors into one.

And black became my world.

Harlo Harlo

*taps recorder*

Testing testing.

Is this thing recording?

Mind plays are so vivid these days I can recollect them even after 12 hrs being awake.

I woke today again before Solaris

I'm aching all over like yesterday

I see faces of you both just before my eyes open

Faces fading in and out on each another

Smells wafting through and through

Strangers breathing down my neck

Alien hands round my waist

An unknown face smiling from across

While waiting for the other girl to get her scroll

What is this I'm suppose to see?

Somebody read my eyes

Decipher out this wriggling piece of gnat in my head

Pull it

Squash it

Burn it

Cause it is refusing to dislodge like a bloody splinter

Mr Saturday

2010-10-16T08:40:00.000+08:00

The eyes opened early today and Saturday greeted me.

"Hullo", he said.

Hey-yo, I said.

"Come walk with me this fine morning?"

Okays.

"The sun sure is blazingly bright and sunshiney today ain't it?" he said.

But I look around and the sunrise has yet to lit the awakening sky.

He pointed out to the lovely shrubs on the ground.

But I looked up and savour the ways the tree branches interrupt the skyline.

He sniffed the flowers and exclaimed how dazzling they smelt.

I took a deep breath and all I tasted was the smell on incoming rain.

"Oh look! The gardener sure has his ways with all these blooming petals"

I follow his line of sight and all I saw was the broken pottery they're rooted in.

Even the fountain where Cupid resides is dry.

He stands under the arch of vines and honeysuckles, waving in delight.

I stared at the piece of sky framed by the arch, and breathe a sigh.

He pointed out to the many lovely people in the park, holding hands talking happy

I stared and stared till everyone muted down and dissolved away.

"Shall we sit a while then?" said Saturday.

Okays

"The tide is high today isn't it?"

It has always been at this time of the day

"Indeed it is."

Hmmms

"Yours seem low though"

Indeed it is.

"Coffee or tea?"

How bout juice?

He took me home and made me juice and salad.

Pats my head and pinch a smile on my cheeks.

"There there now, my day should be a happy day now love"

Okays.

I wonder how would that turn out fine when you don't see the things I see

When you are walking beside me but pointing at a different angle

I wonder I wonder.

Maybe your angle would fill the gaps that's forming in my vision.

Perhaps perhaps

Midline through my seven days

2010-10-13T19:33:00.000+08:00

What is your Wednesday like?

Like a spot of daze with the flecks of sun fluttering above your lashes.
Like the march of breaths on the trail of your skin.
Like the ache of getting up from beneath the covered sheets.
Like a pot of steam billowing beneath the sang froid of tact
Like watching the white head with wayfarer babbling his throne in self awe
Like queuing behind eggs, squids, lettuces and a bottle of minute maid for 15 minutes
Like bumble buzzing around the pig sty of your bedroom
Like picking up the pictures of the smiles you collect from the recent days
Like arranging your cookies all in a jar and finishing half of if before you close the lid.
Like making space for multitasking when your brain screams on behalf of 2 crampy toes while driving a ten minute distance.
Like finally sitting down and feel the throb of your back, sipping tea and gulping wine.

That is what my Wednesday is like. How was yours? *grins*

We can all just slow dance in a burning room..

2010-09-24T04:38:00.000+08:00

It's amazing how sometimes we love to go against the rules and warnings. And the paradox, the outcome is most brilliant when the rebellion succeeds in turning about that table.

She strikes once again, after a year of rest. And I just love how she goes against all odds to recreate that awe-stricken look in my face when I open that door to find strings of loverly messages floating all over my room space. I suppose I should just stop you and the lot from surprising me. The whole bunch of you all jumbled up is just as much as a pocket of surprise. The things that springs from us all.

Our antics, our jokes, the infectious laughters, the times we stood by each another, the many moments we sat in silence just because that's all we can do.

Sher. Yee. Vini. Andrew. David Lim. TY Tan. Sam D. Darray. Daniel W. Hui Ting.

I can lie awake whole night just grinning at the balloons stringing my face above me. Reading all the scribbles from each and everyone of you, if only they last forever. But nothing does. And I know you bunch are here to stay for a while. So, I'll just jot down all your lil' notes into my black book and hope you all will write me more tomorrow and tomorrow.

And to Dave, it's awesome to hear you wish me all the way from HongKong. And Jol & Chuah thanks for giving me the blues back home. Birthday Taiping style. I wont have it any way else (= Adrian, it would be even more AWESOME if you just pass me that iphone 4 you're getting X) And yes Richard, I know you love me so much you that your feelings are just beyond words. Just get me that cookie monster jar already!!

Who else to take me on my wild escapades but you?

2010-09-14T05:59:00.000+08:00

Do you qualify?
*grins*

The dream was beautiful. Even if it lasted just a fraction of real time.

I caught that forgotten smiles, the missed hugs, the unheard song and much of things I overlooked for so long now. All those faces I know parading with much laughter. Even in dreams I find myself avoiding all of you. But I went back in the end. The door was ajar, and I am sitting just outside peeping in. I like watching all of you from afar. It feels as if such untainted camaraderie should be left alone, sealed in a jar.

I may not have enter the room before I finish that dream. But I am just a step away despite making a long turn and skipping a few opportunities. Shit happens, but who said they're not salvageable?

(=

For the first time in a while, I woke with a grin on my face. And I have many to thanks.

Trajectories

2010-08-30T02:24:00.000+08:00

The world is small sometimes, even for you and I. Put Jas on a table with a bunch of new friends and chances are she shared a mutual friend with half of them. It is uncanny as it is wondrously amusing.

So how did she ended up in JB you ask? Well, there's this random text and call one fine morning when I was sleepily groggily in bed. What follows was a trip down south, loads of thunderous laughter, a thousand words of a banter and much wrestling. That was what the northern wind blew me. An expensive endangered Norwegian pig who types and plays dead when you attempt to wake her. *inside joke*

Finally, I can show to Sher and the lot that I AM NORMAL! Well, at least in the context of Taipingnites. (=

I love how my life is interrupted from time to time with adorable idiots and that funny twist of a plot.

Rational cravings

2010-08-27T02:09:00.000+08:00

*sniffs*

Nope. Not today either. Nor yesterday or the day before before.

Should start thinking of midnight snack stocks. Cereals and cheese sandwich is getting boring.

What other inventions are there to satiate midnight crawlers like you and I alike? Hmmm...

Tonights Menu

1. Milo dinosaur
Yee tried making me one the other time *-*
-Yumms-

2. Icecream sandwich
I want! I want! I want!
It just look pweety.....

3. Fruit Salad
I am sure no parents or doctors would object to such healthy snacking.. But that is before what comes next...
=p

4. Chilli Fries
No sane mind would resist digging their chubb fingers into this pile of benzos.
Comfort food baby...

5. Nachos
I should stock up on chips, cheese, olives, onions and bacons.
Hmmmm.....
I sense my arteries clogging up in protest already

6. Strawberry and Feta salad
Alright, how bout an interlude of fruit snacking?
Sounds not too bad a recipe.
Slurping on strawberry and crunching on almond
*grins*
Where's be your rendezvous?

7. Ice cream
Chop up some bananas.
Plop a few scoops on a dish.
Drizzle over the chocolate syrup.
Voila!
*need I describe further?*

8. French fries
NOBODY *I repeat* Nobody forgets the fries!
My staple midnight snacks by far.
Perfect for stress reduction

9. Oreos and milk
Owh hello you.
I haven't had you for a while.
No worries, I'm already scribbling you onto my grocery list
;p

10. Indomee
This.Is. Malaysia
I wonder when will it make it to the league of Malaysia's national food?
I am pretty sure it is on par with nasi lemak and the sort.
In our unit, rice is worthless.
Indomee is GOLD.

And when all fails to stir up an appetite
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
PORK IS HERE TO SAVE THE DAY!!!

*weeeeee!*

11. Roast pork
All those slivers of fat interlaced within lean meat, seasoned in five spice powder and salt before roasting to perfection.
The crisp of the skin and tenderness of the flesh.
With a cuppa beer or a swig of wine, the night can't be more ideal.

12.Pork lard
Pork fat all crispy and bubbly
You are the champagne of my night.
Your coating make my noodles slurpy
But my doctors all are screaming in fright.

pooh

2010-08-27T00:10:00.000+08:00

There's nothing here worth saving,
Is no one here at all?
Is there any net left that could break our fall?

It'll be a day like this one
When the sky falls down and the hungry and poor and deserted are found
Are you discontented? Have you been pushing hard?
Have you been throwing down this broken house of cards?

It'll be a day like this one
When the world caves in

"The Blues" - Switchfoot

coming home to an ode

2010-08-26T01:20:00.000+08:00

It'll be an even sweeter lullaby if the light of dusk cast low, and tide drawn out.

Impulsion.

What would be the best way to paint the picture of impulsion? In words? In actions? In regrets or in boastful claims of I-did-that-last-summer? Suddenly all my 'conquests' in life isn't such a proud thing to display after all. At 23 (almost), what would be the wisest thing to do with all my past 'proud' moments is to swipe all those written claims and shred the pictorial evidences when nobody is looking. Luckily, most of the time, nobody is looking much this way. I seem to be trekking the trail of my past, picking up the pieces, editing it along the way, in hopes of re-creating a more acceptable me. Identity crisis at this point is life is baffling.

Circling back to impulsion. What do we know of impulsion aside the fact that it is often linked to spontaneity, stupidity and sheer adrenaline? It brings about transient moment of highness. If sarcasm is cheap humor, impulsion is cheap cocaine.

Try jumping off the cliff in the instant you feel like flying.
Try popping Hersheys buttons continuously for that sugar rush.
Try hopping into you car at 2 am, driving alone where the freeway would take you.
Try kissing that stranger you been staring at the whole night, see where he'll lead you.
Try showing up in the airport, buying the ticket to the first destination you can think of.
Try climbing up to the rooftop and look below your feet, is another step exhilarating, or plain foolish...

The many instances impulsion can seem fun, but with dire consequences. Don't get me wrong. I love spontaneity. It defines me for a very long while now. But age is catching up, as are many other things. I can no longer afford impulsion. We grew. That is the reason why. Consequentialism became my pillar of ethics. All the probable outcomes flood your head before you even decide. And now you know why the females think too much, unlike our counterpart who eat first, then worry about how much to pay.

No, we don't work like that. We think of how much the cost, how much we have in our wallet and whether or not the dish is worth it. By the time we are done thinking, chances are we'll pass the dish. It is too much a hassle.

I can still ride on the spur-of-the-moment, but I know I'll come to regret it when I get off at the next station. What a fucked up concept isn't it? No wonder as we age, some regress back into the woe-less state of our childhood. Who says it is pathetic and undignified to live in such a state? For some, it just may be a blessing in disguise to not want to be a part of the world they're leaving from anyway.

Passing on happy, and without memories of the long life they lived. That just may be nirvana. Detachment. Or is it?

Would you be the one that argues memories, be in written in tears or smiles, are what constitute the pages of existence? Without them, we are nothing but walking talking stereotypes living in utopia. Freaky, I know. Imagine smiling all the time at such perfect life. Out tear ducts would definitely atrophy into oblivion. I love crying. I had to force myself to cry sometimes just to make sure that my tear ducts still function.

So yes, on the scale from 1 - 10, how contented am I with my life you ask? Well, I'm sorry. I refuse to answer you, cause I have yet to live enough of it to rate it. Perhaps I shall on that day I decided I'm bored or that day I have an uncontrollable impulsion

*Grins*

Right now, I have this itching vibe resonating in my head since 20 minutes ago. It was this bloody nagging impulse that kick me out of the lumpy thing you call a bed to type out this post. If I did not blog tonight, chances are you'll most probably find me speeding at 150 on the road to Tioman. I miss the moonlit beaches in Payar. It's perfect for a night like today.

Funny, you're so funny

2010-08-23T14:17:00.000+08:00

If I kill myself in the dream, I would finally wake up. This was quoted off someone in one of our random conversations.

I gave up ranting on my insomnia. It is never gonna be remedied unless I find what is fueling this wakefulness. Coffee? Nope. Alcohol? Sometimes. Drugs? Well fuck.. benzos are supposed to help me sleep not keep me awake.

My recent weekend had been a long bittersweet one. All that preparations and intoxication and lack of rest is definitely not the best of combination. But it gets you high at a different kind of level. It brings you up to that state of guilt and realization that as time ticks further, the fun and effervescence of the hot-blooded youth no longer sound wise. It is stupid. Drinking per se is not stupid. But when it amounts to the self-torture, it is ridiculous. I suppose I now know why some stop as they grew older. It is time I kick myself into the next level of mindfulness.

And what of those averted gaze and side glances and held back tongue? We do love the things we can't reach. And we are quick to lay eyes on another once we had held the unreachable. The mind is sometimes quick to read but hard to process and reason. Why else do we had to fault that many times before we succeed in learning our lessons?

Funny, how funny we can be. (=

rachael yamagata

2010-07-21T19:09:00.000+08:00

You made the drawl of the clock so much bearable
You made my reality a bearable burden
You made my day beautiful like a sunset glow over the crashing waves

I see a friend in Neil

2010-07-16T18:10:00.000+08:00

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.”

- Neil Gaiman.

Sang froid

2010-07-13T21:50:00.000+08:00

I love//hate my ugly and beautiful self

I'm the perfect dreamer
For the beautiful lies and rude awakenings spun off my fingers.
I'm the perfect dreamer
Lest the night passed I still dream on.

My last 2 weeks break from JB seems like a flash of time speeding past my frenzied mind. Despite the vegetative state I was in, I wake up every morning forgetting if I had slept the night before. My night-time memory was so patchy. The many interlude of eyelids shuttering close and open. Catching my waking instances in rude time lapses. How has the mind managed to stay awake for so so long? 5 days and I walked about just like every other day.

The only difference? I stop paying attention to the voices around, the shouts, the cars, the sweltering heat or my room of 23 years. I think it feels like sleepwalking, except my eyes are wide open and I talked and ate and drank. But when it was time to head me, and when the rain came pouring once more, just like the day when I left JB, I think I woke up.

Well, at least within that one week I had beautiful dreams of riding the ferry to Penang, pestering my loverly sister, sitting down having coffee with familiar faces. It was good while it lasted. It is nice to know that I have a bad habit to think of worse possible outcomes. Cause at the end of the day, I am blessed with amends, forgiveness and trust, despite the fact that I already persecuted myself. Maybe because I have nobody to challenge my negating habit.

And I have died too many times I forget how to feel fear. Today I was reminded that dying isn't just all about myself or yourself. It is always more than that. Funny, how your life is never really yours at the end of the day.

When the feeling is gone
At the breaking of dawn
I will never look back
With the wind at my back
Don't give up on us now
Don't give up on us now

Menew
"Don't give up on us now"

forgetting who we are

2010-07-04T02:18:00.000+08:00

The rain was pouring like any other day. I was stoning like every other day, thinking of all the bits and pieces in slow mo. The sun was setting like the other days.

But it wasn't like any other day where I would whip out a book or lay in bed dreaming of faces. No. It was a special day. It was special yet as good as it is surreal. It seems that the more your mind replays the memory, the more fake it becomes.

By norm, it should be the other way round. The mind registers events when it is being constantly reminded of it. And that is how grief and bereavement works. To get over things isn't about forgetting or pushing aside that very thought. It is about accepting it and addressing the loss. So, no folks.

You cannot not think of your loss. You cannot move on with distracting yourself. You can cope. But you won't be moving on. Not until you touch that face on the photograph, be reminded of their presence and perhaps, for a moment felt them beside you. Then you break down.

When you finally stop crying and realize they are finally definitely gone, you know now you can move on.

I don't even know why am I preaching on grief. I have yet to grief for anything definite. Regrets I have a-plenty. But grief, no.

And skies were grey

Stars all lost

Dreams were building

Hope fading

And suddenly, I hit ground with your fingers wrapped around my ankle.

The moonlit beaches in Tioman is more than breathtaking. It's heart-breaking. No artist can frame that pale horizon, the star spangled velvet of a sky, the ripples of waves and the long stretch sand. It is more than a symbolic representation. It is a personal attachment of emotion.

I love being staged on such a grand piece of landscape with the Earth's symphony serenading the moment. Lying in the dampness of the sand, laughing out in generous company with a cuppa in hand. What else could I wish for?

More.

There were so many other things I wished for when I lie down looking at the million unblinking stars. Slowly drowning in the voices of reality, I want to sink into water and fairy tales. I want to be a chapter in your story book. I want so many many more.

I am greedy yes. But I gave up caring a long time back. I just want more what I have now. Sue me somebody.

*owh rich. this for you!*
(=

Jasmine of Morales

2010-06-20T00:01:00.000+08:00

Somewhere along the line, we laughed loud once, cried hard once, put on the unfazed mask once. And we swore that once was good enough.

Somewhere down the line, we finally realized despite the beautiful, the awe, the calm, we are also surrounded by shrouds of things we cannot fathom, words we never meant and countless takes on life we regretted.

Once was never enough apparently.

* * *

It was a patchwork of dreams with fragments of faces swirling all over the fringes of the unconscious. So wondrous the creation of the mind and all I remembered were those chocolate covered beans. You were standing beside and I could almost smell you like I smell them coffee beans. But why does the face slips my memory every time? As if I'm not suppose to remember you. As if you weren't suppose to be there. There and again, all whom walked beside me all fade like they never existed. It's unfair that all of you tempt me with the unpublished memoirs and make me forget what I had once remembered, once upheld, once wanted.

Trying so hard to hold you in a blink of an eye and yet when the morning intrudes, you excused yourself nonchalantly. I am left to savour what bits and pieces of that dream salvaged. At 23 and still clinging onto the abstractness of a thought. And for sometime now that line between your world and mind has long blurred. And when that line is rubbed away finally, I don't think I'll exist anymore.

The chocolate covered beans waft away and I stood where the sun meets the horizon. And I remember your words, I remember your shaded figure by the water.

Find the water jasmine in the River Morales, you said...

eyes wide open

2010-06-16T04:56:00.000+08:00

My adventure in wonderland begins with a trip down wakeful nights counting the glow-in-the-dark stars above my laptop station, numerous check on time on my handphone, texting exclamation of frust to my self-proclaimed shrink, scavenging food in the kitchen at ungodly hours in the morning, watching fringe till I run out of episodes and playing various plots in my head and blogging of course.

No. I don't think I'm crazy yet. And no, I wasn't waiting for Brazil to enter the stadium nor was I busy studying. I'm just wondering if there is something I should be wondering about.

*Hmmms*

lovely how google have a library of images to express your thoughts

I love telling stories in pictures. It's easier to register.

And I'm not on coffee. Although I know many who are an addict. Coffee is my sedative really. But I do not wish to try out that theory in my state as it is

One of my favourite depiction. If I have enough talent, I definitely would have love living the life of a painter. Surrealist.

*Are we there yet?*

The age was golden

2010-06-09T22:30:00.000+08:00

Come come paradise

You hide too long.

We've took a ride in turbulence

And we still take it together.

Laugh laugh enterprise

You sulked too long

In puckered lips and sagged cheeks

Do you not tire so?

Whisper whisper surprise

Into my ears and unto my eyes

Let Night washes Day

And make way for Dawn.

an interpretation of dreams

2010-06-02T17:37:00.000+08:00

Everybody's asleep. Wake them wake them! It's not right! It doesn't feel right. Something or somebody watches on maliciously. I know they are. With relief, they woke and move. We should get out of here. Searches frantically for the exit. Where is that goddamn exit?! Damnit. Kitchen. We are at the kitchen. Knives. Why am I seeing knives everywhere? The counter top, the island, the drawers. All gleaming and menacing. The metallic taste in the air and the drying mouth. Just grab two of them. How to hide it? Paper, I would need paper to wrap it in.One for Dad and one for me. What about the rest? *Screams for somewhere in the room!*

Too late. Let's go people! Follow me! To the north-east side of the house. North east north east north east. Why north east? Is that the exit? How did I know? Who told me? Fuck it. Just head north-east. Shit. Two guards. Kill them kill them. Dead. Good. Where's everyone? Tch. Where is that door? No door! I'm cornered! She's coming. I can feel her presence. The sneer on her mouth. Her reedy fingers wrapped around my throat. The rice jar! It's big enough and it's behind the pantry cupboard. Oh good. A green cloth. I'll just hide till the police come. They are bound to come, right? Knives, better keep them close.

Tighten grip on the knives. Breathe in breathe out breathe in breathe out. She arrives. "Hmmm, where is she?" The hand reaches out and touch my head, covered by the green cloth. I felt myself shrunk away deeper into the rice jar. She smile. "Gotcha". Die. Gotta get out of here. Pushes away the cloth. Stood up. She 's standing opposite and another of her man is blocking my escape route. Bastard. Can't defence. Only offence. Arggh! Lunges forward and stabbed her hand. It felt good. And she didn't retaliate. Why?? Digs knife under her skin again and again, severing all her hands and legs tendons. Now you can't move bitch! But she's smiling. Why is she smiling?? Something's wrong. It's a trap. Why hasn't anyone attack me? WHY?

And I woke. It was already 2 and I'm late for class. The familiar faces which appears in my dream?

Daniel Wong, Hui Jean, Lih En, Ikhwan, Adrian, Yin and family, My family, my sixth aunt family.

What am I eradicating off my mind?

unfazed

2010-05-31T14:02:00.000+08:00

You are my sweetest downfall

I love you first, I love you first

Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth

I have to go, I have to go

Your hair was long when we first met.

"Samson" Regina Spektor

Weekends

2010-05-29T00:45:00.000+08:00

*peach blossoms on my front yard*

What is a weekend to you?

2 days of break, which translates into sleep and more sleep
48 hrs solitude with coffee, jazz and an endless stream of people to watch
Pancakes morning with overflowing maple syrup and towering strawberries
Pasta and salmon and stella artois on a table of books
Series/movies/animes marathon from the comfort of my bed
The gathering of all colors/faces for a night of games and momentary highness. Rational thinking is not a criteria
Dressing up for grocery shopping
Playing Cinderella and making telly dinners watching sitcoms and laughing at their ridiculous humor
Riding shopping trolleys in Giant, wandering aimlessly, planning menus for the week in advance.
Scrolling down the phonebook, wondering who to text, what to text, why to text
Driving off on a whim, heading towards nowhere. Perhaps to a memory, or a an intention or just a crazy bamboozled whim.
Washing my smudgy car on a rainy day and getting all smudgy myself
Drawing up my future house and filling out the blank pages of my diary

I love/hate my weekends. Sometimes they're good. Sometimes they're just horrific. But I'm glad they exist. Cause I have mates who made it tolerable. (= Yes you should know who you are

crushcrushcrush

2010-05-12T00:19:00.000+08:00

darn I super love her hair and that I'm sweet-but-no-sugar look.

Stories untold, Words unformed, Voices unheard

2010-05-10T18:45:00.000+08:00

beautiful, you're beautiful

wonderful, you're wonderful

strange, but never estranged

fascinating, how the world is a paradox

shadows and tresses malingering

in the shroud of pain

my hysteria,

is my scream for help I'm not able to reach

the furrowed brow and missed anguish

we are your normal abnormals

spectators alike in the act of stereotyping

we will forever be lost in circle you circumscribed us with

my psychedelic notion

2010-05-05T20:54:00.001+08:00

TGIF. I do thank my week for Friday sometimes. It gives me my passport to an escapade. Who needs a reason to travel? Just being a weekend is good nuff. Dinners are the best way to start a Friday after all. And the rest of the night unfolds on its own accord

I woke up that one day and drove 900+ km over the weekend. Arriving home to see another not-supposed-to-be-there faces is just me being aloof.

Dogs are therapeutic. They emit love wherever they nuzzle you.

Seafood galore and regression session with a younger sister is always something new. It's my upper, the best there is in the market.

05 - 05 - 2010

Today, I met a leader of a yakuza who struts the catwalk in my asylum
Today, I met the telepathic who possess the most techie wifi - wireless and cableless. No fees required.
Today I met the norm who stands loud from the masses of people.
Today I met all the people I had yearned to meet. I feel so at home now.

thursday and I am counting

2010-04-23T00:20:00.000+08:00

There's something about the rain that slows my day to a drawl. It seeps away all my life and it feels so good, just laying there covered in quilt sweating away in the paradox of heat.

There's an assignment due at 5 pm tomorrow and I am not about to lift a finger anytime soon. I'll manage. I always do.

The pain is soothing. The fatigue, oh so familiar. The listlessness, I wonder how long it'll last this time. Nobody wakes suddenly and heads to the kitchen to FIND something to cook just for the heck of it. I am not even hungry. I reckon its annoying to be this crazy.

Im an addict. Those lil red fuschia pills are so pretty, like candy. Works magic too.

Am yet to figure how to figure people so accurately. It must be a wicked thing to have. I wanna be a behavioural expert too!

Take me down

2010-04-17T18:23:00.000+08:00

She was our wallflower. She was that girl with flair of one of a kind. Her smile and frowns never came about. Like porcelain, her face unreadable. I cant tell if she's sad or she's rejoicing. It happens. Being the one whom everyone assumes never gets tied down by the woes.

And here I hear her sing. So beautifully I want to touch her cheek and tell her it's okay. I hear her and see her side. We'll never understand nor comprehend what has made our journey so bitter yet worthwhile. I want to tell her how much her voice lulls me into such peace of mind and how her music haunts my mind in a manner I cannot fathom. I want her to know she's better than James Iha even.

But I never knew how to.

how to make an uncanny weekend?

2010-04-12T17:59:00.000+08:00

The Uncanny Weekend

Core ingredients
1 three hours journey from JB to KL
1 random text message to your brother
3 morning wishes from Sabah
1 unexpected phone call from your mom who's unexpectedly in KL as well
3 abrupt change of plan

Seasonings
2 missed turns in KL
2 bumps into your cardio tutor from JB
1 wicked coincidence of him being in the same talk as your dad
1 fucking annoying GPS
2 great meals
1 book receipt reimbursement
3 health-system-talks with dad

To be sauteed for frangrance
1 hug from Anne
1 breakdancing competition
1 spontaneus decision
1 split second decision making
30 mins preparation to go up Genting. Time is 2300

Spices
2 grumpy phone calls
Many steam-off texts
5 minutes of being dissed
45 minutes of silence
1 ass on the wheels

Simmer slowly
1 great view of the world below our feet
4 familiar faces
1.3 bottle of Absolut
5 bottles of ribena
3 used cans of Redbull wanna be
Ample supply of ice
6 plastic cups
6 hours of high altitude

After the simmering
2 sober drivers driving down Genting at 0700
4 sleeping girls
1 great bitching session

To cure any bad smells
2 bowls of pork noodle
2 sakais
4 packs of ambipur
2 hours of bearable nonsense

Final touches
1.5 hours of unbearable lunch
4 mins of Colbie - I never told you
4 hours of long drive home. Weird. Even 150 km/h seems so slow. The road back is so long
20 mins nap in Ayer Keroh
Missing ingredient
1 Jasmyin Petrinna Tay Sue Lin
2 besties (Jols + Shuan)
1 Davidchua
1 Jagadev Ramal

The sunset was so different this trip back on the longest straight road. It was as if someone put a yellow filter in front of my already hazy eyes. And hypoglycaemia with gastric irritation from
ribena is described as a out-of-body feeling. Literally. Everything is different. How else to get into the world in between?

By far, my most delirious and deranged weekend. 23hrs and 10 mins of no sleep with 10 hours behind wheels. Who count the hours after that? I do. I was counting down to the minute I hit the North South highway. The heart misses the 2 years of lackasaidal times.

They said to either view your day as sunny or rainy. But I think I like to see mine as a cycle. From sunrise through a rain and till the moon takeover. Life is not this still snapshot. It is my personal film on the transition of morning to night everyday. I dont leave out my perfect rainy days. The pitter patter and the drenching is unforgettable.
And the sunset was even more beautiful then.

adam young

2010-04-07T22:06:00.000+08:00

So tell me darling, do you wish we’d fall in love?
All the time.

Foaming like spring in my mouth

2010-04-03T13:50:00.000+08:00

The rain is billowing against the wind
The coffee cup half empty
The froth of latte on my lips
My coffeemaker is behind his counter.

It is nice to sit down and not let time rush you from behind. Again, that is my forte. Even at the 11th hour I am still capable of fb-ing and blogging or making trips to the kitchen and whipping up a meal. Time is incapable of disciplining me.

I would love to just sit cross-legged with my latte in hand and just stare at the passing cars and faces. But they might think I'm depressed and weird. I would also love to runaway with my venti starbucks cup. I dont think they would notice. Right? Meheheheheheheh.

When it is cold and not winter, its awesome. Especially when the songs in my head are perfect. Mhmm.

what is this about?

2010-03-30T21:10:00.000+08:00

memememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememmememe.

me in awe of myself

me in adoration of self

me in love with the preponderance of idealism

me in love with the new old world

me holding on to pretty memories

Its is all about ME! Because I said so!
*screams my throat dry*
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
*collapses to the ground*

And I see the rolling clouds up above. Gentle water rippling in my head, like a chamber of conch on the beach. It's pretty, all this sense the world is trying to make. Flip the page and I see stars now on my stonewashed ceiling. Plucking it is as if it's a crime. But weird, I thought I was thrown down here to harvest the bickering shine.

How does one jump in the sea full of her faces? Stepping on pieces of lips and lids as we tread the trail of time-line. Perfect I'll say. When the tea finish sipping itself at the edge of the china and we tip over to peek on a slice of possibilities. The sky is the limit, but my universe is infinity.

It is true. I am the ultimate paradox of my own. When I decided to switch the swatches of color around and round and round till it's a swirl of lollipop on that stark white canvas. I make you see what you dont and miss what you can. Pleasing aint it? To have read this much and still not make sense of my nonsense?

Consider yourself teased love. We have a long way to go. Perhaps. Maybe.

ugg

2010-03-27T12:52:00.000+08:00

I no like how the days of the weeks are playing me.
I no like how people look and snigger behind my back.
I no like the way you piteously smile at me.
I no like the fact that all my hunches and jumbled up.
I no like how every nitty gritty details is riding up my nerve.
I no like it when I see the hurt faces of the ones I snap at.
I no like the guilt of indulging.
I no like the mess I create.
I no like how the lids itches.
I no like my indiscipline.
And I especially hate the standards I set upon me a long time back and the need for me to conform to it regardless the circumstance.

I hate ranting.

learning to breathe

2010-03-25T21:10:00.000+08:00

There, I am strangling with my own hands
This very breath of mine.
Blue is the new black they say
It's better when you're as cool and shiny like the lapis lazuli

I miss my hectic days in gloves and blood. I miss the shouts and the rush of gowned men. I relent into the slower but more redundant days. I'm not a workaholic. Just an adrenalic.

I sometimes do wonder, do more slideshows actually make us better doctors?

duchess of trade, master of none

2010-03-20T01:05:00.000+08:00

I am your stunner, maybe
Walking terrificly straight in all that turquoise.
I do too stutter, always
When suddenly my twitch betrays me.
I like the loner, sitting.
Perfect stranger
hoping you would sit beside and spend some time with me.

Time do laugh at me for being a fool
Thinking I have tomorrow in my grasp.
Forever the master.
But she shook she shook
In frailty when the clock drops
And all's hanging is the shadow of the blackforest.

Hear the mellows of her cry?
That is the song you have yet to fathom
Despite the repertoire.
The smile in every picture?
An artisan's masterpiece.

Am I that impersonator?
Yes I am
Have I deceived?
Perhaps
Have you fulfill?

tick tock

2010-03-14T14:51:00.000+08:00

Time laughed at me for being a fool
Scavenging through the needless for comfort
Day is sniggering at the sight of me
'Cause he cant stand my becoming obsolete presence.

the common addiction

2010-03-04T21:04:00.000+08:00

The human race love addictions. There is always a fad, which in turn when accepted by norm, is the pop culture. I often wonder why people hang on to a repetitive habit. Or love drinking and getting drunk albeit the obvious distaste for the alcohol. Or the constant lighting of fags although he's spitting up blood.And the newest addition, the apparel diet (abstinence from shopping for a year)

What is it about addiction that intrigues me? It is the irony. We know, yet we do. Over and over and over again. Is the because it is the only control left in us? Or is it because we have no control left... How hard is it to reinstate control in our life?

What am I addicted to? Spontaneity and the laughs with no strings attached. This is just among the few fixes of mine. It doesn't take much to spur someone into moments of freedom. It is all in the mind. We are so accustomed to believing in those we can see only.

It is time to believe in the things yet to be seen.

They deserve their happily ever after

I sat in McD today, settling a score with my craving. Somebody's granny was in the table next to mine, alone, with a longing face constantly glancing at the entrance. Clearly she is waiting for someone.

It is sad to see how our morality digress with the progress of education. Keep your mothers at home where they belong for goodness sake! Don't just deposit them in McD, struggling to open the ketchup packet while you go shopping! She should be at home, being fed home cooked food and kept entertained with her endless supply of Hokkien drama series. I hate seeing people above the age of 65 being tuck in some corner of the shopping mall with a maid, looking bored and lost. I know when I'm 65, I dont wanna be in a freezing shopping mall with so many steps and escalators waiting to claim my life.

Coffee and tea with a dash of brandy by the patio sounds terrific enough for me.

Multi-tasking can save your life. It sometimes, by odds of nature, detracts you from the eye of danger. Literally. I dont know why I did it but I did it. Albeit knowing I should had switched off the power. I definitely have an external locus of control, with the constant thought that I'm invincible to all my undoings.

good narcissism

2010-02-21T15:05:00.000+08:00

1. Don’t date because you are desperate.
2. Don’t marry because you are miserable.
3. Don’t have kids because you think your genes are superior.
4. Don’t philander because you think you are irresistible.
5. Don’t dictate because you are smarter.
6. Don’t demand because you are stronger.
7. Don’t stagnate! Don’t regress. Don’t live in the past.
8. Don’t throw your life away on absolutely Mr./Mrs. Wrong because your biological clock is ticking.
9. To fulfill your parenting fantasies, get a puppy.
10. Don’t bring another life into this world for all the wrong reasons.
11. To make yourself happy, pursue your passions & be the best of what you can be.
12. Simplify your life.
13. Don’t commit when you are not ready.
14. Don’t keep others waiting needlessly.
15. Go on that trip. Don’t postpone it. Say those words. Don’t let the moment pass.
16. Do what you have to, even at society’s scorn.
17. Write poetry.
18. Love Deeply.
19. Walk barefoot.
20. Dance with wild abandon.
21. Take care of yourself. Don’t wait for someone to take care of you.
22. You light up your life. You drive yourself to your destination.No one completes you – except you.

I see you

2010-02-21T00:33:00.000+08:00

After many car rides and passing trees, I sat at the edge of my bed. The sentences I see is fading. Your voice once so clear is stumbling. My lids are heavy. And it is now dark.

I woke but it wasn't bright. The candles are all around. They cry and walk away. I turn back and suddenly everyone is no more. The melancholy is thick in the air, almost choking. Everyone's falling apart. The room is hollow as the emotion within the chambers.

No more cries resonating from where I stand. The northern smile had break apart. The southern charm had left me. The eastern grin is dying and my western heart is shredded. Where would the compass now point? It's as if life can be so fragile suddenly. Without warnings.

It is hard to watch people you know slowly waste away. It will never be fair in our eyes. But we still see them walk on strong, stronger than us who are without ailments. It is not fair to be the one watching. No, it is never fair.

Everyday, someone you know falls sick, fails life and passes you without a breath. We have been so busy with out own muddles we fail to see them sail away. This year, I hope to see you.

Chasing smiles

2010-02-08T23:39:00.000+08:00

and somehow I know that it will all turn out
and you'll make me work so we can work to work it out
and I promise you kid I'll give so much more than I get
I just haven't met you yet

It is scarily coincidental to have 3 individual from 3 different pole of the country trying to kick me into the 'hitched' mode. No I haven't see any MO's or HO's that I like kay? )= Stop harassing me.

I am currently in my best mood I have ever had in years. I'm going on-calls voluntarily. I'm wandering the wards with so much faux confidence but confident nonetheless. I'm gushing with all the enthusiasm in the world to make me go home and study the stuffs that baffled me in wards. No I am not a changed fella. Just caught in the hype and excitement of many new deliveries.

But it's a joyride I hope to last till the end of the year. So don't be my killjoy just yet.

5 years since and after and I am still chasing that bit of me. Wondering where it got lost halfway. I thought I found it sometime back but life is an ambiguity. The definition of found itself is variable. It's amazing how I have been afloat in med school all these while and still made it to year 4. Life is unfair indeed. I worry for the future patients of mine.

I am beginning to worry for myself to, especially when some crow-feeted kid proposed to set up a account in some online dating thingy. Dont worry, I'll get back to you in a while idiot. Meanwhile, I think I would like to tell you that I am currently dating O&G before hopping on to Psych. Variety at its best.

Last but not least.....

To Li-Mae and Preethi! XD

holding onto broken strings like it's something precious

2010-01-28T22:04:00.000+08:00

..but it was precious. And it played beautifully once then. Could never finish writing that darn blog on my India trip. It was highly fascinating, definitely an eye-opener. It's as if I walked through India with all its train rides and dust and grime through a dream. I wont say I wanna stay any longer cause I do miss my car, my bed and my lil red pillow.

Many nice people dropping in and out of our journeys. Many smiles, quirks and also many wary faces. Its a trip of education and appreciation. We learned the ways of the unfortunate, shadowed their footsteps, for we could never walk in their shoes unless we lost our own pair. We see poverty in its rawest form. We now feel blessed for the home we are housed in. Despite the comical leaders and parody on the roads, we are far better off than most of them.

A new year with such travesty of new beginnings. There's no such thing as new beginning, I learn. Every beginning I realized is a continuation of the past we left hanging of left abandoned; in haste or in waste. The more we try to run from the infringement of the past, they seems to double their takes and come chasing us back around the next corner. It is sometimes so so hard to let go of what we had grown fond of. Will we ever find that replacement? Will we want that replacement? They spoke of co-dependency. Co-dependency where two parties cling on to each other despite the uneventful ending they knew of. We swagger sometimes. Sometimes we fall, sometimes we get pulled up. But that swagger is all we need to know we are not invincible.

I cant pick out that glass bead from the marbles. They all clink just the same. I want them swirling about but I dont need them the same. So fickle so fickle. When I finally decides whether I want them or not, they are all cracked and grounded to dust. Pity, oh so pity how it all ends.

And I found out another superpower of mine. I have the ability of recalling actual vocabularies even if I merely glance or heard of them only once. Like 'travesty' which I used earlier. I had never used it in my life. Dont even remember where I heard of it. But when I checked the dictionary, it actually is a word? Awesome aint it? (=

Nobody should care. It's obscene!

Sky is falling. I'm still standing. Tomorrow's coming, and I am going.

Week 1

2010-01-08T20:10:00.000+08:00

Week 1 and I am alive still, albeit waking up 630 in the morn with Sher taking 3/4 of the bed space and be being pushed to the edge. I now know how the dodo bird feel. Wait, that's not true.. Im way smarter than a dodo.

By the way, India in January is NOT hot! At all! We packed for summer and winter greeted us. The chills of Maharastra is well epitomed in pur 12 hrs train ride from Mumba to Wardha. The best awesomest jiggledy-bone shivering train ride ever. I like.

And I have been a vegetarian for 5 days now and me not dying! Amazing I know. Mebbe can tapau one of the aji here go back to cook for me XD

one whole 365 of tears, sinew and crinkly smile

2009-12-31T02:33:00.000+08:00

Packing light should never exist in the vocabulary of a female. I tried. For a 3 weeks stay, I seriously tried! 3 bottoms and 7 tops and it still amass to a considerable space-occupying cuboid! wth? End up staring at that square pile for a whole ten minutes wondering how else to lessen the dimension. Sat on it, squished the air outta it but ntg much worked. Mebbe if I stare long enough it might just shrink to fit? cool....

And my mom and dad had some sense to NOT buy the full length backpack all the kwailo's are carrying about. Cause I dont think I'll be walking then. Proly you know, sledge about with that bag which is as long as I am? Doubt I can stand upright when the bag is fully stuffed. I know I know. I am vertically challenged- outheight by a bag. kanasai.

And if only rupees are ringgits, then I am blardee rich right now.. Im holding a thousand Rs note I tell ya.. I remember the last time I held a one-thousand rupiah... Dreams of a millionaire idealist.

And today was a great day. The day after, I wonder what other surprises are installed. A new year doesnt begin afresh when I have debts brought over from 2009. A-w-e-s-o-m-e.

But Happy New Year ya all nonetheless. (=

2009-12-22T00:19:00.000+08:00

I'm like your yesteryears
Blinking in black and white
On reels of films you'll readily burn.

You're like my sad soppy horror movie
I kept seeing over and over
On reels of film I'll readily burn.

The audience are seated,
2009 is being rated,
Let us wrap the decade over.

Many things I am sorry for.
Many things I am guilty of.
Many actions I've regretted.
Many events I'm accounted for.
And yes, I am still here after all.

im a charity case. please donate?

2009-12-17T20:13:00.000+08:00

Christmas is a time of giving. So give kays? I may not celebrate Christmas but I don't CARE! I still wanna have a christmas list! *bawls like a brat*

RM1800 for my dslr fund.
A tin-musical box.
RM500 Borders book voucher.
A new mattress for JB and Taiping room. (Im currently sleeping on paperthin mattress floored by a piece of chipboard)
The new iMac.
A Nokia 6310. (I only need it for texting purposes cause I've concluded at the rate of sms I generate, all canggih phone WILL expire within a year)
A butler to serve me in JB and a hitman to nick off those pests. (Any volunteers?)
A personal hairdresser to manage my lion's mane every morning.
A pig farm for endless supply of bacon and ham (Piglets as pets initially)
A big classic empty sketch book for scrapbook purposes.
A carved chrome bell to hang on my window ledge.
One carton of timtam! original flavour pleasethankyou.
RM500 bobbbibrown voucher
A hamper of cheeses and dips!
One nice silky set of bedsheet! (no hello kitty/barbie/pink fluffy cotton whatsoever)
My cookie monster cookie jar. )= Somebody break promise never get me wan...
1 tb external hdd
Pretty dingly dangly stuff to hang above my bed. I wanna be a magpie.
A bean bag!
I want an imaginary boyfriend I can throw at my aunts/cousins everytime they ask me if im hitched....

Please do your best to fulfill this poor child's Christmas wish list. Santa will be proud of you!

A careless carol

2009-12-16T21:18:00.000+08:00

Where do we begin? With you grimness oh so sniggeringly happy in your corner?

Nowhere. You do not begin with a start nor end with a closure. It is without surprise I feel that warmth of familiarity from the very beginning. It seem normal to have you lingering about me. Like as if you move that world of mine despite what soreness you bring every time you lick that broken skin.

It is my guilty pleasure to indulge in what not of norm, but something of penance. And to writhe in disgust and cry in despair, it satiates. Because like him, we both knows the sin we've engraved somewhere in the past. For that we are deserving. Till to date, we are still searching for that persona we are to become. We are silent of those days we spent on reflection. We are silent on those blames we swallow. Because we are guilty at some point in this two decades of life. I wonder if we will have the time to sit down over coffee reminiscing this ma cherie? Conscience is a bitch, n'est ce pas?

And yes, it is tiring to rent this body out to bear the wrath of others. I wonder if insurance covers it......

Hit& Miss

2009-12-14T15:24:00.000+08:00

Jupiter crashes thunder bolts
In the sky overcasted by teardrops
We have flashes of angst here there
But the sun has already engraved its path.

Hullo Olivia

2009-12-04T17:54:00.000+08:00

ehh?

I like random spillage of inspiration to write. Sometimes its a dream I vividly remember. Sometimes its just something that happened. Or sometimes, rarely, I just have this urge to write albeit not knowing what. Then, I'll just google up a word that comes to me in that spur of the moment and scavenge for interesting pictures.

Today is one of those days.

In my dream yesterday, I remembered Petaling Jaya area, SS2, LDP, Old Klang Rd, my sister, my persona, a chest ache and a boy falling into the monsoon drain. Funny how the psychosomatic effects of our mind works. I woke with super tight feeling in the chest with pin and needles sensation. No radiation.

I am finally immune to my sms alert. Considering my bedtime is now 6 am and my breakfast begin at 4pm. So please, in case of emergency, call me after 4pm only. My services are unavailable anytime before that. And it's not shouldn't even be a surprise to anyone if I didn't know today is the day of results. Who keep tracks?

Weather forecast in Taiping is unnecessary. I can tell you what time the sun will shine and what time the first drop of rain will shower our heads. Such a mundanely beautiful weather. Even the night-sky backdrop was pretty. Times like that are good for conversations much missed. Hearing the story of your life told from someone elses mouth. You can only smile in agreement.

Identity searching even at this late a stage. Why not, yes? Life is dynamic. It is not stagnant like that pool of puddle. The bell shaped curve is symmetrically perfect, but it's this idealism that breaks the staunchest of non-believers. What will you catch? Where would you land? This has been a long year. It may or may not turn out the way you sketched it. That perhaps this is not our strokes to cast.

Should we start caring now? In all those affairs we never did? It is indeed interesting how I selectively condone and condemn the principles portrayed by those all around. By what standard and justifications did I used to pick all those values I considered moral? Who knows. I like to think I'm objective as I am right. But I was slapped by someone on that a long time back. I admit I have the ego and pride of a man. Ahahahahah! Damn.

I think you're right Jagad, I might as well finish all the cookies. Jol no come back after all. Why everybody running away from me wan? Im not infectious also.....

Furies

2009-12-01T00:00:00.000+08:00

I'm careless
I'm reckless
You have to be able to catch me
If you want to walk beside.

A benz skids
A kembara burns
Saturday, aren't you grim today.

Fury unleashed
is the anger foolishly spent
on the Fool of I alone
in the frenzied tears of self loathe.

You are the few
in this minuscule of a globe
whom I would thrash my fury upon
....without a reason.

crooners at bay

2009-11-23T01:04:00.000+08:00

I won't run, baby, when all I want is to run.
I won't forget the morning sure to come.

The light is low, the night is burning.
My head is still, but my mind is turning, turning round again.
If only I could make it through this lonely night,
If I can do this, if I can drift away.

Brendan James "The sun will rise"

I have a terrible habit of looping songs on my mp3. I also have a horrible ability to register a song in my head and loop it over and over reluctantly if you humm it in my ears.

20-08-2009

2009-11-20T16:08:00.000+08:00

OSCE Station 6

Patient scenario:
This is a 23 year old female with pre-OSCE stress disorder. Take a look at her sleep diary and suggest possible diagnosis and management.

0258 - Flops onto lumpy bed. Feet tapping on faces stuck on the headboard of my bed.
0315 - Sitting up on my bedside, reciting, "Hi, my name is Lee Hui Mei. What can I do for you today?"
0336 - I hate hate hate hate hate panic attack insomnia
0430 - Checks time. Change back my message tone and nap a bit I think.
0501 - My morning friend has came out with a solution. If you cant sleep, get someone to sleep to sleep with you. Such ingenious solution. I almost took up that offer.
0830 - I kicked myself up cause I started sweating in the 16 degrees aircond room.
0940 - Stuff myself with 2 packets of Indomee to raise my glycaemic index. Even tried Valsava Manouevre to clear my head. But the paradox? Im not tachycardic, ultimately in the calmest of demeanour, and I still can fb and watch Fringe. No, it is not normal.
1430 - I opened the door and saw Dr Paul. Its a CVS station and I just lost my heart. Literally. *Aish* Sorry Dr Paul but I think I just made you shake your head again.
1520 - My single malt is done for.

Differential Diagnosis
- Panic attack
- Imsomnia
- Intense adrenaline secretion

Management Plan
- Get someone to accompany you to sleep
- Knock your had on the 'X' on the wall,
- Steal hospital supplies and sedate yourself

And no Dr Paul, I dont want to see you in a month time and sorry Dr Hari for the headache I caused you. Candy?

Pluck this out somewhere. And I knew I hit bullseye when I said its either Psychiatry or Emergency Medicine. Kean Guan confirm Surgery. And I think Yee is diving into Dermatology while Sher is sinking into Paeds. Darray proly end up in Patho and Lim in Anaesthesia. He proly accompany patient to bed even, *grins* Figuratively and literally speaking that is. So yeah.. I think my time's up. Ta

With love

2009-11-16T18:22:00.000+08:00

Tic tac toe

I caught a Caterpillar with a Naso-Gastric tube
Creeping crawling in everybody's corners
Chirping inaudibly with his own delight
Tic tac toe
I caught a Caterpillar with a Naso-Gastric tube
With grace we flutter about him
And laugh at the ugliness of that juvenile shrub.

He who brings his stage-persona down into our world is delusional. He who size up his own cup of Coke is a foolish narcissist. Pity, I had always enjoyed theatricals.

hello stranger...

2009-11-08T19:22:00.000+08:00

"Hold your hands up,
I miss you I miss you tonight.
Hold your hands up,
I'll find you when I look inside"

I like it when suddenly a lovely song randomly plays in my ears. I like it with that brush of memory, a mile of smile carved on my face. In all that bitter and sweet, we grew up and walk parallel side by side. I'll always see you when I need you like when you'll show up when you need an exit. I know you will never leave me. You never did. Neither would I.

it was only 5 minutes

2009-10-31T15:12:00.000+08:00

mei #1: i dont wanna wake
mei #2: so dont stupid bitch. go back to sleep kay? *slaps forehead*
mei #1; *ouch!* you bloody sakai! which idiot actually hits herself wan? tak guna
mei #3: oitts! you two retards shush and sleep please? its frigging 7am in the morning. you're
suppose to be dysfunctional! ACT DYSFUNCTIONAL!
mei #1 + mei #2: *pouts*
mei #2: but she start it first.
mei #1: i so did not you arse!
mei #2: you so so did, you buttwipe!
mei #3: *stab mei #1 in between the eye and chokes mei #2 with her own blood
gushing from the severed jugular artery*
mei #1: fuckfuckfuck! there's a tendon hammer in between my eye!!!! *runs in circle!*
mei #2: mmphff! *gurgling sound in the background*
mei #3: WHY CANT YOU TWO SAKAI JUST DROP DEAD AND DIE LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE?
me1 #1 + mei #2: *pauses and stare at mei #3, with an evil grin slowly forming on
their lips*
mei #3: dont look at me like that you creepy walking corpse-to-be...
mei #1: *plucks out the tendon hammer from her head*
mei #2: *closes the gash in her neck and divert all that blood to her mouth*
mei #3: hey... killing me is suicide aight? now let's all just lie down and play dead k?

- mei #2 squirts the collected blood from her mouth and blinds mei #3 temporarily while mei #1 charges forward with the tendon hammer ala 'flying kick' style *hiyakkk!*-

mei #1: i'm hungry. breakfast?
mei #2 *nods head while slurping back her overflowing blood...*

Happy All Hallow's Eve people! XD

All in a months time

2009-10-26T21:55:00.000+08:00

When a pair of walking talking atm machines visits you, inevitably it involves good food, and shopping. However, I didn't know it comes with so many plus points. *grins* Some things you just cant bring back home.

*It is testing to have them around but cant touch them*

Faces and smiles from a while back.

Springtime in the days of monsoon

2009-10-22T12:53:00.000+08:00

Nostalgia. They're born from the junks you collect from the years back. They're the memories you immortalized in scraps of papers or shrapnels of tin. I love all my familiarities. Things I grew up with. I dearly miss all my darlings back home.

Mom kept threatening to throw away all my stocked up 'valuables'. But I cleverly locked them up in a drawer. *evil laughter!* But she does have a point, what's the point in keeping all of them and bringing them along with me through graduation, houseman years, specialist days? Plus, I dont think my pillow can survive that long. Or that note-written tissue. Or that rust-speckled tin box. Damn. Time erodes. And there's so many things I would love to hang on to but its impractical.

SPRING CLEAN!!!

ultimate sin

2009-10-19T16:45:00.000+08:00

Here's an article I came across by Mary Schneider in Thestar newspaper on the 17 reasons people use when they cheat. *grins*

Break out into selfhood (so you can be and express yourself – painting might also help).
Accidental (crashing into a tree is usually accidental, or breaking a glass, but never sex. Unless, of course, you get so drunk that you can’t tell the difference between your partner and your next-door neighbour).
Sexual panic (to prove that you are still sexually capable – as if you can’t prove that with your partner).
Let’s kill this relationship (and see if it comes back to life).
Mid-marriage crisis (will add sparkle to a stale or problematic marriage).
Trading up (when you’ve “moved on” but your spouse hasn’t – note: spouses should not be upgraded like cars or houses).
Heating up your marriage (the fear of being found out will add more spice to your marriage).
I just needed to indulge myself (shades of Bill Clinton).
Ejector seat (either your spouse will kick you out or your lover will give you the courage to quit).
See if (see if what you’ve been missing in your marriage can be found elsewhere).
Distraction (will make you forget life’s difficulties – a game of Monopoly or a glass of wine might also do the trick).
Surrogate therapy (will help you overcome feelings of inadequacy, frustration, etc – a shrink might also help).
Do I still have it? (sounds like sexual panic).
Having an experience I missed out on (there’s always bungee jumping, or origami, or trekking in Nepal to consider).
Revenge (creepy).
Midlife crisis (sounds like sexual panic again).
Unmet needs (what happened to unmet commitments?).

My advice to anyone contemplating an affair? Either you’re married or you’re not. There’s nothing in between.