No cans of corn. Just my daily rhymes and I'm outta here!

What angels see beyond the stars
Differs from mortals eyes
The reflection of pure loveliness
That shines beneath disguise
Yet the heart, like angels by some way
Sees by a different light
Of lovers moonbeams that twinkle down
On a clear and starry night
And whispered love that travels by
The gentle blowing wind
Al that angels ears can hear
And hearts can seal within

11/10/99

Never, never write poems about love when you are giddy in love... they come back to haunt you later... like the really stupid things you said to your crush when you were 12!!!

And so I'm back, from outer space... I just walked in to find myself with this strange look upon my face... bah, I won't be corny. I was awoken at 6am this morning (actually I was already awake having not slept a wink the entire night as I was being eaten alive by mosquitoes) and dragged all the way to the Mount Erskine cemetary in Penang, armed with cangkul, spade, pick axe, hell notes, joss sticks, candles, eggs, fatt koh (that pink cake thing) and an assortment of cups and saucers. If you think 7am is an ungodly hour to be visiting graves, picture my surprise to find no available parking spaces and people with their own assortment of Qing Ming tools decorating the hilly (good feng shui!!) area with flags and colourful hell notes and even confetti!
Now it's not everyday that I find myself clearing the graves of my great great grandparents (whose tomb inscriptions I cannot read) so I was rather proud of myself today imagining myself to be the perfect filial great great grandchild, planting joss sticks in the ground, burning the paper ingots and hell notes, offering tea and wine... but 2 hours later this filial great great grandchild was kinda pooped and wondering if I'll still have to do this when the older generation finds it too difficult to climb those hills and dales. I wonder if the *younger* generation will do this for my grave when I'm dead and gone... or will they just chuck me in a marble hole in the wall? Comforting thoughts, huh?

Leave the phone off the hook
Shut the doors to my world
Put out the sign that says
Closed till I've recovered
Or in other words
Leave me alone
Stay out of my sight
Don't call, don't even write
Thanks, but no thanks
I can handle myself on my own
Don't worry, I'm just fine
I won't drown in a pool of sorrow
Or burn in my wrath of despair
I borrowed sensitivity from my mother
It's been 20 years now
And I've kept it in good care
And your job is to
Leave me alone
Stay out of my sight
Don't call, don't even write
Thanks, but no thanks
I can handle myself on my own
A little later
I'll call you when I feel better
But just a little later
You won't matter
To me, myself, my life...

I really like this one. I think it was one of my best. Very Jewel inspired. I even tried putting a tune to it, imagining myself all country singer like, strumming my guitar to these words. I think this poem reflects a part of me not many people know. That I actually like being alone, when there's too much going on and I can't juggle everything, I like to crawl into my own shell and hibernate for awhile... and I wish no one would find me there.

I'll be travelling 4 hours to Penang later this afternoon to wake up at 6 am on Sunday to visit ancestors I do not know. I mean their graves. Somewhere deep in me I feel a rushing sense of Chinese-ness filling my blood vessels... which auspiciously is red. Funny though that I would feel this way about Qing Ming when I couldn't be bothered about Chinese New Year traditions.

She drew her lips a crimson red
Her reflection was the perfect babe
The night was young, it was her own
And she stepped out on heels, a shining gold
She had the whole world in her hands
The cash, the looks, it was all to grand
But her smile played mask to a hidden fear
Of happiness she could not secure
She has everything
But nothing in her grasp
She has everything
But no love in her heart
She can go searching and searching
Till she feels satisfied
Till she does realise
The love in herself
And she lets the wind brush through her hair
As she passes the boys, all of them stare
It isn't enough she's the queen of glam
This isn't good enough, it's all a scam
Her past is a blur she wants to forget
She thinks she's better off now wearing contacts
Serious and studious that isn't her life
No one got anywhere without a fight
She has everything
But nothing in her grasp
She has everything
But no love in her heart
She can go on searching and searching
Till she feels satisfied
Till she does realise
The love in herself

I don't know if you've already guessed who this poem is about. It's really such a pity at how blind she was... the person she wanted to be eventually destroyed her. I wonder if she's happy now

Blogger just ate my last blog about being pissed. Now I am SUPER PISSED! But there's nothing I can do but subserviently succumb to Fate and let it continue to ravage Singapore with SAR, preventing me from being with the only person I want to be with. I miss hours of talking without having to spend 20 bucks on a phone call. I crave cuddles and security. I hate the distance. I think it's wretched what borders nationality brings with it. I'm just pissed...

I'm living my life to watch the sun rise
I think you've been cheated but you don't know it
I 'love' you, I do
But something's bothering
It's almost insincere
Maybe I should board up those temptations
But I can't help but go talk
To that other guy
Because we've had so many memories, tears and good times
With you it's a fresh beginning
But I'm still learning to get used to it and you

Scandolousity. Just read that on a friend's blog. I remind him of scandals. Right... But who would ever suspect little innocent rosy cheeked me? I didn't mean any of them. Victim of circumstances. No longer...

I was reading this poem and figured I might as well put it in here before I go to sleep

I relly think love's left me here
Forgotten I exist
While lover's faces laughingly lit
Mine is dark with mist
Many friends I have and
Friends I hold dear
But friends they'll only stay
Though they see me in a special way
They love me only for today
And what tomorrow hurls
At my crushed withered soul
I'll bear
And what the sunlight hits
On every blue-eyed kid
I still care...
Though I'm just an angel in darkness!

I wrote this on a little bitty bit of paper, nicely decorated with the words X_angel - forget I exist, won't you? Search by my name. I'm not good a psycho analysing. Especially my past self.

Can love be considered true
If I don't really love you?
Oh I care, yes I do
I want only the best I can give you
But love? That's asking too much
Love? That's going too far
See, reality's cut my heart in two
One part's with me
And the other with my love, not you

The half I have says you're nice...

This was on the back of the bitty bit of paper. It's unfinished. I don't think you'll ever believe I was sorry...

I've been promoted to Mandarin Level 2. Alright, that's enough laughter and wise cracks, thank you. I AM making an effort to get in touch with my roots. For as long as I can remember everyone has been laughing at the way I speak Cantonese with an accent... which I just cannot get rid off! It's like trying to make me say nut-thing instead of knot-thing. I don't know why it comes out that way. I wish I could say I was dropped on my head as a baby and it somehow affected my speech intonation... but disappointing as it may be for some of you, the biggest accident I had when I was a baby was jumping off a 2 foot high rock and scraping my knees. I wouldn't know if knees are in any way connected to speech. I didn't do A-level Bio.

You were the cowboy
I was your partner
You held me in your lasso
Bu you let me hold the remote control
And there were times
I was your lover
Sunshine and morning, heartache and pain
And you saw me like no other
Like no other
You never said I was a bother
No, not a bother
Played my games
Took care of all my whims
And when I thought I was in the lead
You pulled the reins right back from me
Instead
You were leading my life
Carrying me all the way
You showed me the
Right road I should take
And you saw me like no other
Like no other
You never said I was a bother
No, not a bother
Played my games
Took care of all my whims
That's you

I recently added the last line. I had the urge to write this after reading Jewel's a Night Without Armour. I think I was unconsciously describing the kind of guy I was looking for in a realistic way. It's funny that in retrospect it fits perfectly... more private thoughts abound... I won't write them here...

I didn't finish yesterday's blog because a giant cockroach was crawling on the wall next to me and so I freaked out, switched off the comp, and ran for cover. Stop laughing! I know I'm not the only person who's mortally afraid of cockroaches! I'm not sure what about cockroaches invokes a wave of panic in me such that it's instinct to turn and run. It's not really a phobia, like my phobia of capsizing and not being able to get my butt out of the kayak fast enough. It could be a girly thing - the natural tendency in females to scream at the sight of creepy crawlies. Or it could just be silly to analyse it because everyone is entitled to their fears! It's human.
No I'm not talking about the cockroaches!

Here I am feeling all alone
Crossing twilight zones
On icey hills
The silence is too demanding
I'm compeled to just listening
To a heart beat
A lonesome heart beat
Hidden by an unrealistic blizzard
Oh can you hear it?
I know you can't feel it
Not you and your callous fingers
And blunt heart
But you can, you can
listen, listen, listen
Do you hear... love?

I've been making really good use of my time these last two days. I've been surfing on Survivor : The Amazon.
I'm not exactly a reality show buff... I'm relatively new to this whole thing. It all started with The Bachelor. I know, stupid Malaysian channels didn't show it, but we MUST forgive our TV stations for loyally giving us great shows AFTER they are into their second or third season else where in the world. Well, what got me (and the other 14 girls on my hostel floor) hooked on to an egocentric MCP show that was basically about a Harvard graduate bachelor who 'dates' 30 women and after each episode narrows them down to 15, 8, 4, 3, 2, and his final bride? I guess it was the suspense of waiting to see which girls would be given the rose at the end of every episode and move on to the next. Perhaps it was to see if the bachelor was as Harvard University graduate charming in personality as he looked on paper. Or maybe it was just to see how far he'd go with his dates (who mind you were at the most on their 2nd date with him)... and yes of course we cried for the pride of women everywhere when Amanda eagerly jumped into bed with the creep. Oh... I'm sorry, is this a PG-16 blog? Nah... Reality shows just have this ability to tug at your heartstrings and boil your blood... remember that episode where we wanted to hurl our shoes at Alex for dumping Shannon, who was way too good for him anyway... and we applauded the way she held her head up high and gave it back to 2 inch high embarassed Alex? You go, sweet heart! And yes the shocker at the end of it all... HE... CHOSE... AMANDA! Miss top heavy - what are we waiting for? - snog a grope - Amanda?? Why were we so blind? Why did we think Trista the Miami Heat Dancer was going to wear the ring? I mean Trista was so much more interesting AND she was pretty AND she was funny AND she was closer to Alex's age AND... oh yeah, I forgot... we're not guys AND Amanda did have a D-size cup.
After The Bachelor (oh yes... you can read the most scathing reviews on it here ) I got hooked onto the Amazing Race... naturally... But that isn't really reality, that's a race. It's like watching a less exhausting version of eco-challenge with really interesting and good looking participants! And at the end of every episode I wish I could be in the race too. And like the rest of the world I cannot believe that the whiny brat of a Flo won! But that's reality isn't it?
Well, now I'm into Survivor: The Amazon. Actually SCRUBS takes priority over Survivor but I still get to catch the last 40 minutes. Now, the Survivor concept is really interesting to me. I, like everyone else, feel like I can identify with them. I'm an experienced camper, I love facing the elements, and even though ODAC puts up lovely warm dome tents, I still prefer snuggling asleep in my poncho under the stars. So I've been through all that and I know how different relationships become in the outdoors. But what puzzles me is that being a happy camper isn't going to help you stay, but you'd be booted out faster than you can say immunity. So I watch it to see how far they can go on conniving and scheming in the outdoors, because to me it seems all out of place. Like placing lawyers in the country side. But of course everyone has their quack advice for the Survivor candidates. I'm rooting for Christy to win.

I find myself looking through a maze
My idle mind has given up all sense!
Complications and fabrications
My heart's being torn up by my own hands!
Did you not see me?
Did you look beyond me?
Is that where you thought you saw your dream
My friend has turned to foe
Yet I'm aiding you to go
Go ahead and break my heart
And blow away the pieces
So hurt can't find me again
I thought I could escape those agony stories
I figured they won't happen to me
I'm lucky I know
But I've been lead down the wrong road
And now everyone's back in on me
But I can't scream or shout
No, not aloud
I'm the hunter trapped in my own cage
I've lost to my best friend
It's an old adage
Will love find me here, I'm unsure
If it will even knock on the door
Where butterfly kisses have found their masters
I've been shielded from getting near
How could trust have turned away
And betrayal come to play?
I don't understand what I don't know
Help me! Cry my banished cries!
My hear has no where to go

23/11/98

Don't ask. You'll only know if you know...

You only realise some things after having lived for 2 decades
1. It takes 2 trips to the toilet to be able to down 800 ml of mango juice
2. People who bullied you back in primary school will still enjoy making you feel 3 feet high even though you've definitely grown half a foot since standard 6.
3. The one's you least expect to see after leaving primary school, secondary school, sunday school, etc... are the one's you are STILL meeting up with. And your 'good friends' back then? Where the hell are they now?
Two friends took me down to Kepong last night (after a hell-raising ride in a car I believed was falling apart) for some drinks and just a good ol' chat. When I first met these guys, the feeling of 'I can't stand you' was probably mutual. But 5, 6, 7 years later we're talking and laughing as if the past had been one big joke all along.
Sometimes I think that there's no straight forward recipe for friends. Maybe it's true... there's no such things as strangers. Just friends who haven't met.

What more could I ask than a thousand dreams from you?
Would you stifle creation or imagination, is that you?
Would you keep me locked in a gilded cage?
Hide my wings and keep the key?
And Banish all my ideas of faith?

What more can I ask, not the stars above from you
What more can I want, not the oceans wild and blue
What more can I need, not visions of dreams come true
What more can you give... nothing
just true love would do

What more could you give me than
The answers to lost whispers
The sound of the empty void of hope still lingers
I ask more of you, what no one else can do
To feel my wings and fly
To reach up for my sky

All the spot lights have shone on the wrong people
Before me the world has grown savage and so wild
But will you find the light with me?
Learn to know simplicity?
What more could I ask but for the
innocent love of a child?

24/10/98

No comments. I only vaguely remember why I wrote this. Just one of those days that I was tired of conforming to everyone's ideas about me. I wear too many masks... I have too many walls... sometimes I'm just tired of it all

I just watched Tambaqui win immunity on Survivor in the Amazon. I'm all smiles. Sorry, but I think Tambaqui happens to be the nicer team even though I think Rob is quite a scheming hottie.
Well, the war on Iraq has begun. I've been glued to BBC for most of the day (I say there's more crap on CNN and anyway, that British accent is just dah-ling!). I was rather amused at the way Britain got miffed at Bush for not taking them aside first and saying "Hey we're gonna drop the missiles on Baghdad like right now since Saddam's deadline is up, so you with us? Yeah?" and instead went ahead and then Bush comes on TV and wakes Blair up from his beauty sleep. I'm pretty torn about this war. I've got a 'Give Peace a Chance' sticker on my car but I know if the US doesn't bring Saddam down, it might hurt us all in the long run. Then today I find out that Singapore has joined the coalition and there's a long, loud, hollow scream rendering through my head. Why are they doing this when they're surrounded by Islamic countries? How safe is Singapore going to be? What's going to happen to my poor darling in the army? Why do they have to always bloody suck up to the Americans? I have no answers. I'm facing a wall...

Is it too dangerous to claim you?
Would I be fooling myself if I said you were mine?
I'd be insane, but it's causing a pain
Deep inside of me
Time is turning in a world we can't even
call our own anymore
But would the pain increase if I gave my
heart to you?
The danger of untrusting transparent
passion
So vague, so misty
Yet I'd risk walking that line!

An imagination is a very dangerous thing. My boyfriend who is currently serving torture in the army (OK, I kid myself, he's brainwashed to love the army!) sent me an SMS at 5am on monday morning saying he was very sick. I wake up at 10am and my mind goes into a panic. I open the papers and read about that virus spreading in Singapore and my mind thinks RED ALERT!!! I go through the day praying that he misplaces his macho stubborness and reports sick and is immediately tended to by trained army doctors who will save his life. I wait and wait and wait for a phone call. Phone insists on remaining lifeless. Wonder if boyfriend is in the same state, because there is no reason not to call if he is still a)mobile, b)conscious, c)alive. Imagination now runs wild and nightmares occur all night long. Wake up this morning and grab phone which is right next to pillow, but it's still in the same lifeless condition as the night before. Oh God, don't forsake me now! Try to think rationally... if it was anything serious, surely a family member would have contacted me by now. Try to think happy thoughts and go to violin class. After violin class realise there's a voice message on my phone. Heart sighs in relief at the sound of my boyfriend's voice saying "so cute!", probably in response to my perky answering phone message and not because some cute nurse walked past.
Anyway, no cause for alarm. Greg IS still sick. AND of course REFUSES to report sick and still insists on going for the 16 km march. Sigh............

I'm feeling generous today. I think I'll insert an extra poem.

First I think I'm running round in circles
Making no sense of no end
Second I'm feeling nothing
All out of the blue
Third I feel like all the world's a stage
And I'm the audience
Last I think I'm out of my mind
So confused
Spinning, Turning, Morphing, Twisting
Changing faces old and new
Dunno where I'm walking 'cause
each road leads back to you!
Oh guilty pans of treating you like junk
Each love song on the radio is making me
torn apart

It's been more than 5 years... and only lately did I realise what a bitch I was for treating you like junk. But I still don't get it. Why did you adore me? Did you not realise how young and naive a kid I was? That I couldn't understand the attention, the infatuation, that I was just a very confused girl. Who hurt you. I'm sorry...

Hmm... that's funny. Yesterday's blog disappeared. Is there some sort of Blogger fairy that appears in the middle of the night and steals newly published blogs and teaches them to fly by thinking of happy thoughts and antivirus programs?

News flash! I am currently employed! But... I am still a bum. My new job must be the laziest! So lazy, it beats Khim Nyang's ajinomoto packing! I am being paid to translate Science books from Malay into English for Standard 6 kids. But the cherry on the icing is that I get to work from home! Yes! All hail the supremacy of the Bum-a-lot!


It takes a while to learn
That we are all an island
Desolate and independent
Relying on no one
When skies break down and crumble
And love has wilted into dust
Things become changed
And I'll survive, Yes I'll survive

I've got a blog block. I'll just render the poem

Isn't it funny how ripples fade into the water?
Isn't it strange how they disappear without a trace?
I wish my pain was just that way
To fade like mist, dry the tears on my face
Oh, how I learnt love the hard way
To learn that I can't make you love me
It's the power of letting go that rules
It's knowing that

I am suddenly feeling a wave of claivoiyancy... the oracles predict a theme of unrequited love in the next few poems... ok ok, I lie. More than a few.

I just answered 5 questions in some silly quiz and this is the result

-Sensitive- You're Sensitive, and you'd like to
stay that way. Sorry,listened to a bit too much
Jewel there. You're sweet and very emotionally
charged. You definitely love the person you're
with, and always want to know how they're
feeling so you can make sure they're happy.


What Kind of Girlfriend Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

How do they know all that from 5 questions?? That's so cheap skate. And besides as Greg will freely tell you, I'm so insensitive that if I saw someone clutching his heart and collapsing right beside me I'd tell him he should take less caffeine in the morning

I'm not ready for this life
I'm running a marathon to catch up
The world whizzes by too fast
It's left me in the dust
It's dripping down a leaky faucet
Like grains of sand slipping from my hand
It's quick silver flashing by
And the moment's gone before I
Can get a grip of myself
Can pick myself off the ground
Can continue the race
Can turn myself around

I like this one... and despite myself, I'm still not ready for life

It's 2 am and I'm not sleepy. Neither is my brother... I think... either he's awake or the television is. Tori Amos' 'Silent All These Years' is running around inside my head. I have to admit that it's the Sun Yan Zi version that's playing though. Think I'll spit it out here just for temporary relief.

Excuse me but can I be you for a while
My dog won't bite if you sit real still
I got the anti-Christ in the kitchen yellin' at me again
Yeah I can hear that

Been saved again by the garbage truck
I got something to say you know but nothing comes
Yes I know what you think of me you never shut up
Yeah I can hear that

But what if I'm a mermaid
In these jeans of his with her name still on it
Hey but I don't care
Cause sometimes I said sometimes I hear my voice and it's been
Here silent all these years

So you found a girl who thinks really deep thoughts
What's so amazing about really deep thoughts
Boy you best pray that I bleed real soon
How's that thought for you

My scream got lost in a paper cup
You think there's a heaven where some screams have gone
I got 25 bucks and a cracker do you think it's enough
To get us there

But what if I'm a mermaid
In these jeans of his with her name still on it
Hey but I don't care
Cause sometimes I said sometimes I hear my voice and it's been
Here silent all these

Years go by will I still be waiting
For somebody else to understand
Years go by if I'm stripped of my beauty
And the orange clouds raining in my head
Years go by will I choke on my tears
Till finally there is nothing left
One more casualty
You know we're to easy easy easy

Well I love the way we communicate
Your eyes focus on my funny lip shape
Let's hear what you think of me now but baby don't look up
The sky is falling

Your mother shows up in a nasty dress
It's your turn now to stand where I stand
Everybody lookin' at you here take hold of my hand
Yeah I can hear them

But what if I'm a mermaid
In these jeans of his with her name still on it
Hey but I don't care
Cause sometimes I said sometimes I hear my voice
I hear my voice
I hear my voice
And it's been here silent all these years
I've been here silent all these years
Silent all these
Silent all these years
:::Tori Amos:::

At the moment I am typing with 9 fingers, after a gale (I swear it was almost like something out of The Wizard of Oz but nobody will believe me!) slammed the bathroom door shut on my right middle finger. The afflicted digit is currently bandaged and is still throbbing. I am swayed into thinking that this is part of Fate's plan at getting the message into my head to "STOP PLAYING THAT WRETCHED VIOLIN". Or maybe my siblings just put a hex on me.
I had been enthusiastically practising my violin over the weekend, but as part of Fate's plan, the D string snapped while I was tuning it... so there was about 3 days of relative peace. Until today, when I stopped by Mahogany to replace the string. I came home and started playing my violin for half an hour. Coincidentally my siblings were no where to be seen. And after I had put it down and went to take a bath, the bathroom door HAD to slam on my finger. Now I can't play the piano or the guitar either! Pout!

You freak!
You down right pathetic fool!
You make me shudder
Within my skin
Each time I see you!
Does everyone act that way
towards you?
My mind defines you

Another poem without a real ending. Inspired by Silverchair's 'Freak'. Don't ask me why. I didn't really like that song. But I am hypocritical. I do judge people at face value. It's unchristian... and I tend to form opinions I later regret. I'm glad I didn't make that mistake with you, Greg

Latest news just in. Imperial has offered me a place, despite not fulfulling their conditions. My mother is currently announcing it to the whole town. I on the other hand am going into hiding while she extols my virtues on other poor defenceless parents.

I always wanted something sensible
Not your crap, that's unbelievable
I'm down to the ground
In my DocMart boots
Planted firmly
On earth in an realistic world
That sucks
Because you materialise
Ideals before my eyes
And I cry...
I want a change today
Cos guilt has made me feel this way
I want to change the minds
Of people, all those left behind
In dreams that will not come true
Can I change the world for you?

It's about you once again. Doesn't take a genius to realise how much your lying affected my fragile 14 year old self. No I never owned Doc Marts. I wished I did.

Was just talking to Sachpal about my mp3 playlist and he said 'You're growing old, my dear. We all are"
The last time I checked I was still 20

Does listening to Diana Krall and Tori Amos and "The way you look tonight" (Tony Bennett NOT Elton John!) mark the turning of age... the beginning of silver hairs? Will I soon have to admit that I no longer listen to Hitz.fm but keep my car radio permanently tuned to Light and Easy? Ok, ok! I fess up! I DO listen to Light and Easy... because I find Hitz too loud. Have mercy on this poor old lady won't you?

Walk down the halls
Where I once used to be
I'm certain of here
In my memory
Time has sprinkled dust
Dust and grime
But has never put out
The sunshine
Remember this old bench
Remember this tree
Where under its shade
I find my old me
I've travelled far but
It's been with me
In my dreams and my mind
While I watch the rain
Cause I know

Another unfinished poem. I think I was thinking about my primary school days when I wrote it. I was feeling old then, just as I do now. I didn't purposely chose this poem, it just... happened.

I give up trying to redo the look of this web page...
for now...

Looking forward
A new venture
Through misty clouds
Which hold my future
It still depends
On my past actions
Fate relies
On past revelations
In time
Yes, in time

I've always wondered who I'll be with the future. I'm not really sure my 15 year old self would have imagined the 20 year old I have become

Trying to process my online application for NUS (National University of Singapore) which apparently does not exist. So much for Singaporean efficiency.
The department of Architecture caught my eye and I'm very very - finger tingling - heart pounding - tempted to apply. The only thing stopping me is the image of the Durian... I mean the EsplaNARD... in my head. I'd be damned if I have to design such monstrosities after obtaining a BA in Architecture!

I was thinking about yesterday
Reminds me of destiny and fate
I was thinking of time in a way
That passes so that its too late
I should have done
What I was supposed to do
But every account in time
Is a risky move
This time I guess
That I will learn
But now I can't
Understand
Trust days to play the fool with me
Trust time to trick me and blind me
Think it's a game that never ends
Days, months, years, all went
Away in time
Beyond the line
Of reach through mortals
Out of now's world
Only left with
This moment

Finally back to mundane life after my brief hiatus down south to Singapore. It's still there...hasn't sunk...and yes it still has running water (Malaysian water *ahem*). Give them a break won't you? Until I find funny purple blotches on my skin and lose my liver, I won't complain about drinking Singapore's Newater (recycled water for the uninitiated).

I received my results and they were just as I expected. My joy was momentary though, when I saw others (I mean Singaporeans) breaking down and crying all around me. On further enquiry, I found their results were equivalent to mine... which threw me into a state of confusion as to whether I should be wearing a smile or turning my result slip into pulp with my tears. Thank goodness, Grace appeared like a ray of sunshine and announced her results (similar to mine) with a grin! Whew! I was very tempted to see what my Physics teacher had to say about my D materialising into an A in physics but Greg distracted me with his all too perfect results! Is it strange to be over ecstatic about somebody else's results? Because I'm elated and extremely proud of him to the point that I couldn't care about my own not so perfect results! And it's not because I got treated to a no limit sushi dinner after that *grin*

Body Art

I know they see me
But they pretend they don't
Oh yes, they cover the eyes of their children
as they pass me

I know they see
The tatoos down my bare back and arms
My ears, nose, eyebrows, tongue and belly button
Deformities they say
Those silver rings were meant for
a wedding finger
Not there

But my hands would never wear
That elegant ring and glove
Naild that are coloured with colours
Of disastrous motives

There's yet my hair

If they could call it hair
I don't think so
More like spikes
Coloured spikes
Which would make a hedgehog blush

Yes, I know they try not to see me
But I see them
Underneath their clothes
Their bare white skin
Like an art sheet, blank
Screaming to be coloured
But they can't hear the wails
Only my kind can

31/7/97

Piercing was all the rage at that time. Last Wednesday I actually screwed up enough courage to go to a piercing parlour with Charmaine. I think a pierced navel is really sexy... although Greg thinks a pierced tongue supercedes it. Unfortunately the cost of piercing in Singapore would exceed RM100!! So sigh... no alluring Britney Spears lookalike navel... and those plastic models of pierced nipples... OUCH!!! gross!!