I've got a new shopping list out!
Things I need to do:
1. Replenish my supply of sunblock. KL weather is now set on sizzle and fry!
2. Get nice aromatherapy soap (especially the kind that will alleviate my headaches and compliment my panadol)
3. Oh yeah, get panadol.
4. Buy evenescence cd (alternative might be to drop by Sugi's house and download it since she has broadband... hmm...)
5. Check if Sugi is free and in good mood, then drop by her house on pretext of being a good friend! =)
6. Learn how to use an eye liner
7. Get new shoes, no better time to start on collection rivalling Imelda Marcos than now.
8. Get list of beauty regime stuff as suggested in CLEO (it's amazing how ignorant one can be without women's magazines!)
9. Nail new exercise regime to head... maybe then will stick to it! (Damn the return of the miniskirt!)
10. Finish Greg's birthday card. Not good to repeat mistake of 2001 when birthday present was given 1 month late!
11. Try to remember if I've forgotten any birthdays
12. Collect sunglasses that have been at spectacle shop collecting dust since March
13. Get new watch... time to lay my faithful 6 year old Swatch to rest.
14. Oh SHIT! HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHAUN!!!! I know you don't read my blog but hell, it's the thought that counts anyway doesn't it? HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY to SYET YIN too!! (Ok, now that's two things off my list)


Here, now…

Here, now…
It’s hard to form thoughts in my mind
To intend what my heart longs to say
For my heart has a song it wishes to sing
If perchance it wasn’t caged

Here, now…
What would it sing? In what tone or rhyme?
And would it be speaking the truth?
Will it dare whisper what my mask tries to hide
That in fact I do miss you…

(24/03/01)

Not for anyone in particular. Trying to hide homesickness behind a facade of steely convictions. Trying to let everyone think I was alright and I could survive in a harsh foreign land. I conned almost everyone... even myself!

>>>Note to self:
Remember to get glasses! Not because eye-sight is deteriorating (although must check with optometrist as still want to retain 20-20 vision) but because want to prevent eye-sight from deteriorating as will be working with computer screens (which emit harmful rays) ALOT. Maybe might look more intelligent with anti-glare glasses (no one would really know that glasses are not functional and merely for vanity sake). Some girls dig glasses on guys... so aren't there guys that dig glasses on girls?

Capricorn (23 Dec - 20 Jan)
Today remains a very good day giving you the opportunity to win status and loyalty from others, and you can explore into new areas that may very quickly produce long-term opportunities. The Moon in Capricorn can expand your horizons, so it may be a good day to make the attempt to meet up with new contacts. A strong Mars position gives you the energy and luck, while a strong Saturn position can give you support. It becomes a busy day so be prepared for last minute appointments. A good day to socialise and to travel.

[What the f***! So much for my puffy eyes and bleak out look on life.]

How is it after I've planned how I want to do things I always end up doing stuff my parents wanted me to do?
How is it after 2 years of missing home I am suffocating within the four walls of my house?
Why is it when all the hype about going to the University of my dreams dies down, do I start panicking about starting life all over again?
What kind of girl goes out for a movie with a guy who's attached?
What kind of boyfriend goes out for a movie with a girl he's hardly kept in touch with after spraining his ankle?
Why do I still read my horoscope when it is so bloody off point?!!

I just indentified a whole bunch of grammatical mistakes in my last blog. *tears at hair* THIS is precisely what happens when you become a full time science student in Singapore! Warning to any future ASEAN scholars: Do not attempt to communicate with the locals... it could be hazardous to your own speech! You start to speak in a droning tone and freely punctuate your sentences with 'liao', 'wahlau' and smatterings of hokkien and mandarin words (most common are 'chio bu', 'yan dao', 'dao', 'tiao')

Why do I have this feeling that blogger has censored my last blog? Did I miss something in the small print?

Last night I saw an aura around the moon... well it looked like that, a faint ring of light around the full moon. Not really sure what it meant, so I asked xiaokai, grace and sachpal to check the moon. No one came back with the same view of the moon. Hmm...

All I know is that I’m here
Living out a million other’s dreams
Yet I’m facing rock bottom
And I can’t even see the top
Let alone reach it

I haven't checked my mailbox for 4 days and voila! it is stack full with 115 junk mails telling me things like: 'she would stay if it were huge' and 'make it longer' (how the hell do you make something longer that isn't there in the first place?) and 'sloppy naked teens' (now, I know sloppy teens are bad, I mean I was definitely a sloppy teen before... but naked?? Now come on! That's too much for me to bear!). At the rate I am being encouraged to view perfect strangers 'getting it on' I think the world is getting sicker by the minute.
Now don't start saying "You PRUDE!". I accept the fact that all guys watch porn or have watched porn before and I don't throw the book at them for it. I accept the need for guys to sit around and talk about it in the most vulgar of circumstances (10 guys in a tent on top of Mt. Ophir come to mind... it's ironic that the 'decent' guys who didn't want to be included in the conversation were snuggling in a tent with 3 girls!) . I appreciate the fact that some guys are open enough to talk about it in front of me (although I'd appreciate it more if they minimised the "Charlotte, so how does a tampon work?" followed by guffaws, questions!). I also abhor the "So how far have you gone?" questions. Does no one respect privacy anymore?
I can't remember what my point was in the first place. Way too many interruptions in between. Oh darn... I just left my mailbox alone for a few hours and already someone's trying to catch my eye with naked hot chicks? Why are they no mails on naked hot blokes? These porn mails are SO sexist!

Angels stand outside my window
Calling and beckoning to my stone back
My tears drown out their voices
And I can’t feel at all.

The POEMS have returned! Here are some of my most utterly crap work! Written during my first 6 months in Singapore. *Sigh* those first 6 excrutiating months... a whirlwind of experiences. You can't imagine what a horrible ordeal it was for me to travel down to this tiny island all alone without knowing ANYBODY!
Psst... I'll let you in on a little secret. I HATE meeting new people!!! I am unbelievably shy and uncomfortable around people I don't know, especially if they are oozing with confidence and vigour. So much for being an 'interactor'. And many of you probably didn't know that the whole idea of going to a place where I didn't know a single person scared the hell out of me! It didn't help that I hadn't been to Singapore since I was 5! How I survived the initial first week is till this day a mystery to me because throughout that one week I felt like I wanted to run home!
Ok now that I've just talked a whole bunch of goobledeegook... I will try (I said TRY) to publish the poems I wrote in chronological order so that you can venture into the trials and tribulations of a scholar's life in Singapore...

Waiting is akin
To time rushing by
As buses pass you by
And the sky’s silver lining
Turns a threatening shade of grey
How much longer must I go on waiting?

When I first arrived in Singapore, I brought along the bare minimum. All my party clothes, my hair accesories, my make-up kit, anything that spoke of LIFE was left at home. My job here was to study and get through 2 years and come home. That's when the whole concept of waiting came to bear such a heavy weight on my mind. I found myself just waiting for 2 years to be up. And my life literally turned grey (It was the rainy season... and waking up every morning knowing that I will arrive at school half drenched and spend the entire day walking around in soggy socks was very very trying!). The phenomenon of travelling by bus (something I NEVER did in Malaysia) brought its own troubles which included walking to the bus stop only to find the bus you want pass you on the way and there is no way of chasing after it because this is Singapore and buses ONLY stop at bus stops (what do you think they are called that for?). The most ridiculous thing I ever did was miss 3 buses WHILE I was at a bus stop because I was so busy talking!!!
Anyhow, it was a good thing I woke up and decided that I shouldn't waste 2 years being a nerd. Ew!

1. What time is it? 7:16pm
2. Nickname? Charl? And that's because all of you are plain lazy to say SH-AR-L-ERT in full!
3. Parent's names? Teck Chai & Lai Ching (this would be a dangerous and stupid thing to volunteer in the presence of Odacians)
4. Number of candles on last cake? 20
5. Date that you regularly blow them out? 10th of January
6. Hair colour? Black, black, black... er... and black... (I checked in the mirror for your benefit)
7. How much do you love your job? Well, bumming around is only good for the first 2 months...
8. Favourite food? Anything that I don't have to foot the bill for
9. Hometown? SS2, Petaling Jaya, Selangor, Malaysia
10. Current residence? Like I'm going to tell you! Oh... wait! I did! Refer above
11. Been to Africa? Well, that depends... do you believe in out of body experiences?
12. Been toilet papering? No... but I learnt how to throw toilet paper into shower stalls while certain people are taking baths... (winks at Shan'er)
13. Have you ever loved someone so much it made you cry? Erm... if you did I recommend you see a good counselor... if it persists... see a psychiatrist, immediately!
14. Been in a car accident? No
15. Croutons or bacon bits? Neither. I can't take meat in the mornings
16. Sprite or Seven-up? I wonder why they even bother to have different brands! Talk about perfect substitutability! (Heh! I'm learning my econs well aren't I?)
17. Favourite Movie? Maybe Dead Poet's Society, maybe The Sound of Music, maybe even both X-men movies, maybe Chicago!
18. Favourite holiday? Any holiday that involves angpows or presents
19. Favourite day of the week? FRIDAY! Only night I don't feel pressured to do homework!
20. Favourite restaurant? If you're taking me there and treating me to a meal... that's definitely my favourite restaurant
21. Favourite toothpaste? How can anyone be fussy about toothpaste?
22. Favourite flower? Lilies and carnations
23. Favourite drink? Soya bean milk
24. Favourite sport to watch? Odac guys arm wrestling (it never fails to be hilarious... esp if some girls are involved too! grin)... actually, Odac guys taupok-ing is even more entertaining!
25. Preferred type of ice cream? English Toffee
26. Favourite Sesame Street Character? Ernie and Rubber Ducky!
26a. Favourite Muppet character? The poor stagehands who always end up in some accident or another
27. Disney or Warner Brothers? Disney... I'm a sucker for happy endings
28. Favourite fast food restaurant? Genki Sushi in Singapore... it's what I call Japanese fast food... because there is no faster way of getting food then when it's on a moving belt in front of you!
29. Who is the last person you got e-mail from? If I told you I'd have to kill you... oh but nevermind, Anushia isn't *that* important a person
30. Have you ever been convicted of a crime? If you ever saw me freak out when I forgot to wear my school badge to school, you'd know that question will never apply to me!
31. In what single store would you choose to max out your credit card? Urban & Co. (in Singapore... not here!)
32. What do you do most often when you are bored? I start thinking... which goes to show that I'm hardly ever bored!
33. Who is the friend that you are sending this e-mail to that lives the farthest away? Not applicable
34. Bedtime? No way! Not with you!
35. Who will respond to this message the quickest? Usually the Captain
36. Who is the least likely to respond? Sachpal, because he hates blogs
37. Favourite TV show? Scrubs! Friday Nights! 11pm! TV3! (If you're in Singapore it's Channel 5, Monday nights at 11pm) I'm telling you, you MUST watch it!
38. Last movie you saw? Lizzie Macguire The Movie... please somebody, shoot me!
39. Tattoos? tempting...
40. Favourite colour? Tanned skin...
41. Time finished: 8:43pm (so give me a break! I had dinner in between)

I'm sorry if anyone tuned in to the previous edition of my mother's day entry. It was unfinished and not meant to be read yet.
I just killed 3 mosquitoes, one after the other. I believe my house is infested!
I found some poems dating from my early days in Singapore. I'll put them up soon.
Stay tuned!

So as your mother sows, daughters will reap

Of every 10 Sunday morning masses I attend at St. Francis Xavier church, I'm usually late 8 times. Thus my brother and I are relegated to standing at the left wing of the church which I have named the Children's Corner. Why? Because crying, screaming toddlers and children that run about are not attractive in the main section of the church. Thus their parents are relegated to the open-air left wing of the church where their precious tots can scream till they're blue in the face and mummy or daddy can quickly hoist them over the shoulder and run towards the car-park without causing many heads to turn.
Yes I don't like kids. Yes I'm planning on having minimal or none at all. Yes I'll make a pretty scary mum.
Back to Sunday mass... I was watching these kids today (although I PROMISE I heard every word of the homily ok! You can test me!) and their mothers and I realised there were such distinct differences between these kids even though all of them were hardly older than 6 years. Now I have known these kids for the past 5 years. I saw them come into church as toddlers and babies, as their mothers took what was to become their permanent seats in the children's corner... and even after my 2 years in Singapore, I still recognise these kids and their personalities that haven't changed since I left, and neither have their mothers.
Take for example Mum number one. I call her the funky mum. She's probably in her early 30s and she looks confident and pleasant with a really cool short spiky hair-do that tells me she's definitely a new generation type of mother. She's always dressed in comfy young stuffy (baby-tees, nice fitting pants, denims...) and au naturel make up. In fact if it wasn't for her mild-mannered looking husband that reminds me of Calvin's dad from Calvin and Hobbes, I think this woman bears a striking similarity to Cherie! And she has these 2 lovely little girls that look extremely like her, and already at that young age they completely take after her. They are dressed in bright coloured t-shirts and cute little 3-quarters and look nice and comfy. And they are very comfortable with themselves too. They're never attention seeking and they're all nice and smiley and never scream. Except for the fact that they like to bring their colouring books to church and play with little toy cars around the toes of fellow parishioners, they could graduate into the main section of the church with no trouble at all! Way to go, mum!
Now on to mum number 2. I call her the bitchy mum. She looks exactly like every tarty KL secretary would look (no offense to KL secretaries), long ironed-straight hair, perfectly manicured long nails, clothes that try too hard (i.e. tight, short and tighter) and a perpetual "I smell something bad" look on her face. She has two kids. A boy and a girl. Now if I had her kids I would have spanked them, and locked them up WITHOUT bread and water until they promised to behave. They whine! They talk loudly! They fight! And they disturb everyone else! And then they run back to mum, and what does mum do? She just brushes them aside. She doesn't even look at them. If they tug at her arm she shrugs them off and pretends they're not there. When they go "Mum! Mum!" she doesn't answer. And since mum is nonchalant... so are the little monsters to the rest of the church. And the clothes those kids wear just scream brand names into our faces. The little girl today was dressed in one of those pretty but hot and stuffy frocks (that I used to wear when I was small and would saintly bear the itchiness because I was a terribly vain little girl) and would look like an angel if she wasn't reading the church bulletin out loud. Attention seeking mum, attention seeking kids... not a pretty picture!
Now mums number 3, 4 and 5 are the partridge family. They are all either sisters or sisters-in-law (I really can't tell... they are just one BIG family inclusive of grandma as the family matriarch) and I have been watching their brood of kids expand over the past 5 years (I think it totals 5 right now and 2 of the mums are pregnant again). Now it's really sweet the way they come to church as a family and sit together and look after each other's kids till I can't tell which kid belongs to whom. And as for the kids, it's so cute to see the way the older cousin takes the hand of her younger struggling toddler cousin and walks them around the church compound while mummy and daddy listen to the homily. Or when the baby cries, the cousins immediately come round to entertain it and stop it from wailing (some times it succeeds some times it doesn't... well there's only so much that baby's can take of hot Sunday mornings). And just as their parents look part of the affluently well dressed yet modest church crowd, so are the kids nicely dressed in smart Alice in Wonderland type of pinafores or dresses complete with Mary Jane shoes or little neatly pressed shirts tucked into little shorts and sit quietly in the church pews or else wander around on their own when they start to get fidgety. Now that's a clan of mothers to be proud of.
I also noticed during mass that all the husbands of mums number 1 to number 5 were almost similar in mien and character, that even clones would have more differing personalities. Therefore as a science student would my hypothesis that mum's are a critical factor in a child's personality hold true? I definitely think so (and so does my mum)
Today, I fought with my mother. She said I was too critical and blatant when I speak. I told her I talk just like her. We ended up apologising to each other.
Daughters will become their mothers. It's like a vicious cycle of life.
Happy Mother's Day

Berkeley University in California has banned students from China, Hong Kong and Singapore. Lets all have a moment of silence for my kiasu college mates who wanted to go to Berkeley.

I took the X-men test. I'm Gambit.
HUH?
Mysterious? Hard to get close to people? er... I'm not sure about this one. I wanted to be Rogue!

And the storm clouds roll nearer...

Everyone seems to be in a depressed mood lately. (When I say everyone I'm actually making a reference to my Singaporean and ASEAN friends... so sorry if I left you out). It's that season where you realise that :
a) You've made it into the University of your dreams and you have the grades to go... BUT there's this BIG problem about obtaining enough funds and scholarships and grants won't even give you a glance
b) You've made it into the University of your dreams but you're grades which were slightly off the mark just meant you missed the boat and you'll have take up your second choice in a course you don't want to do
c) You didn't make it into the University of your dreams, nor the course that you wanted... what the hell were they telling you when you were 10 years old and that you should always follow your dreams?
d) You just don't know where you are going right now... everything is bent on making your agony last longer as you hang in limbo...
It's a very very depressing season for us... (warning!!! the following is going to sound very arrogant)
We are the top scholars in our respective countries. We've studied in the top colleges in Singapore. And we aren't just brilliant at studying... we represent our colleges in stuff ranging from dance to electronics and olympiads... AND we've worked our asses off for those sparkling grades!
But... then we have just been cruelly brought back down to earth and realise that, hey! no one gets anywhere in this world without cash in the bank. Sigh...
And I'm feeling incredibly guilty for getting into the university of my dreams (2 of them in fact!), with less than sparkling grades and on a Goverment scholarship/loan at that...

Charm, Sherene, Venki, Baa, Hooi Ying, Yi Lin, Maggie... I'm praying for you guys...

I'm back!

And I'm raging mad!!! This morning I was kicked out of my sports club's library for... get this... wearing a SHORT SKIRT!!??!!
Alright, everyone knows I'm no rebel! I'm a stickler for rules 24-7! I grow pale when I'm asked to skip a lecture to attend important ODAC meetings (which I only did twice at most!). I always wore my uniform to perfection, buckle was always in place, kancing was never open. My hair accesories were always the right colour. My shoes the right shade. I even always wore the right socks to school... and in RJ, I NEVER had my shirt tucked out! It'd kill me to break any rule (except that coming late to school bit).
Even today, I checked every bit of my appearance before I entered the library. Now the library has some ridiculous rules... No shorts, no singlets, no sports skirts, no sleeveless blouses and no sweaty attire (which is fine by me although I think it's a little on the extremist side). So I walked right in, put my bag down and proceeded to the magazine section when I was stopped by the librarian who said "I'm sorry you can't wear shorts in the library". I looked down at my skirt (appr. 4 inches above my knees), "But I'm not wearing shorts! Are you blind or are you just uneducated enough not to know the difference?" Ok I didn't say the last bit, but I should have. The librarian (a young, Malay, dull witted looking bit-- ok I'm getting carried away) looked at me again and said, "I'm sorry, we don't allow skirts." I stared back at her and said "But that's not what it says on the club rules which are pasted on the library doors. There is NO rule saying I can't wear a skirt into the library". The young librarian gave a furtive glance at an older librarian wearing a tudung and glaring at me (what?? jealous?? Give me a break... just because I have a perkier ass than you do!) and turned back to me and said, "But mini skirts are not allowed". It was then that all hell broke lose! I have not worn a mini skirt since I was 15 and had skinny legs to my advantage... and I do believe that I have matured in my dressing and do not prance around KL in anything that would reveal more flesh than needs be!
"Mini skirt?? This is not a mini skirt! I have been allowed into the library many times before wearing skirts and it is NOT in your club rules!"
Without flinching the librarian had the audacity to reply, "If you don't leave I'm going to have to ask my boss to scold you."
Scold me??? How old does she think I am? Five?
"Fine!" I said "I'm going to complain" and under my breath "You'd better pray hard that I don't just make you lose your job"
I stormed out of the library, went straight to the club front desk, made a written complaint, then went straight to the hall where my mother was doing her line dancing and garnered support from all the aunties in the room who assured me that I was right in what I had done, telephoned my dad to whine until he agreed to see that my complain was looked into... and now I'm typing out a blog to vent my frustration!
I should wear a tag around me that says... think twice before accosting me and claiming that I have broken a rule! I will cause all hell to break lose for you!
But what I feel that I have been more wrongfully accused of is dressing in a way that was acceptable. I understand that some people think that sleeveless clothes are indecent. I'd understand if the hem of my skirt was just below my butt. And I totally agree that you shouldn't enter the library after you've just had a hearty game of tennis and are practically leaving a trail of sweat. But I don't see what is wrong with a young girl like me entering a library to do some reading (in these days when everyone complains that the young don't read enough) dressed in a t-shirt with sleeves and a skirt and proper shoes. For goodness sake! I thought I had a right to be proud that I'm living in KL and NOT Kelantan! Or maybe I've been mistaken all this while! Are you next going to insist that I can only enter the library if I'm wearing something completely unflattering? Or wait... that I can only enter the library if I look worse than the librarian. And I'm sorry that I make a skirt look good on me even if its slightly shorter than the length of my college skirt! I'm sorry that looks like a mini skirt to you, just because you have a skewed view of what is indecent!

I don't believe in best friends
A tryst is not a trust
I don't believe in true love
There's only room for lust
I don't believe in dreams
They turn ugly in the end
I don't believe in fairness
Things just twist and bend

I do believe in true friends
I believe that you are one
I do believe in giving love
It hurts when there is none
I do believe in living today
As if it were the last
I do believe in life itself
Plan tomorrow, forget the past

I don't have a best friend. I gave up on such things a long time ago. I'm sceptical about true love... unfortunately I've learnt love and lust have just got to work together somehow. I hate dreams, you always have to wake up. And things are never fair, as today has proven once again!

Where have all the poems gone?

Poetry is MIA at the moment. Because I can't find them.
Charlotte is also MIA at the moment. Because she can't find herself.

Don't go anywhere. We will return right after the break.

And just for the sake of saying it... I'm leaving the colour scheme as it is... I can't be bothered to change it no more... not when my comp hangs every 20 minutes or so...

Bloggers in Crime

Once upon a time there was Grace's blog. I read it and thought "How the hell does Grace say what she says with a straight face?". It's not difficult to picture Grace with her perfectly eloquent voice (albeit with a slight sardonic tinge) and serious eyes as she tells you what she has to say... and Grace never minces words about anything. But if you're not quick enough you won't catch the wicked grin she flashes after she's spoken. That's Grace's blog.
Then there was Xiaokai's blog... discovered when I wasn't supposed to discover it...
****** flashback to the past ******
"... but Xiaokai! It's a bloody public blog! Why am I not supposed to read it? Elitist, is it? Everyone can read except me!"
***** flashback to the present *****
... and it was nice to know that the guy who sat with you throughout boring Physics lectures, drew pigs on your physics notes (not very good ones at that... the pigs, I mean) and plotted evil scams in Cantonese with you, is actually a thinker, a seer, and has more to say than I ever gave him credit for. That's Xiaokai's blog.
Then there was the *She*Shu*Shueh* group blog, a blog that revolved around the mad trio of Chinese High Boarding School... Sherene, Shu Chen & Shueh Min... and our fellow boarders in crime... and our blog gave us the chance to connect and yell and scream about A levels and laugh and cry about ourselves and to just come out and say something whenever we felt like it. "Blog! Blog! Blog!" That's our group blog.
Then there was my blog... I took everything I admired from those blogs and brewed it into my Poetry Attic... MY blog... all mine! And it was supposed to be a secret... a private diary of my mind... and yes I can hear echoes of "... but Xiaokai! It's a public blog!". So what happens when you are discovered? Or when you discover that you have been discovered? That people are actually reading what you have to say when you thought the whole world had shut you out and couldn't care about your existence?
You keep on blogging and ignore the passer-bys... that's what you do...

The Shakespeare Innuendoes
Last night I watched 'The Complete Works of Shakespeare' as performed by that trio from Australia. If you haven't watched it... too bad! It's ending this Sunday and it's not worth missing! Go get tickets NOW!
First shock of the night: What the hell! My brother has bumped into 3 friends already and I don't even see anyone I know here!
Second shock of the night: All my brother's friends are taller than me! Where have those days gone when I could still look down at them and call them "BOYS!"
Third shock of the night: Bloody hell... it's 8:30 pm already and they still haven't dimmed the lights or told us to switch off our handpho - OH MY GOODNESS! It's Abdullah Badawi!! The acting Prime Minister and his family are coming in... and they're sitting just across from me... LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE!
Fourth shock of the night: Shakespeare was a horny bastard... or else he was definitely portrayed as one. The amount of sexual innuendos I witnessed last night... I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.... but I decided I shouldn't be a prude...

Best scene of the night: A tie between Othello's rap and Hamlet performed backwards!

!! Please don't ban The Economist !!

I've only taken a sneak peak at The Economist before. When I was in Raffles Junior College it seemed as if only the most profound and learned students (usually the Humanities people... I'm waiting for the Science people to strike me dead with a cathode ray gun), would browse the pages of THE magazine to read if you want to be up to date with all that's happening in the world (Newsweek and TIMES were considered fluffy material). I personally didn't venture further than 3 pages at a time... I'm still trying to digest that article I was reading on China's democracy.

But now our all-mighty Barisan wants to tie the noose on The Economist for one particular article which I have tried fervantly for the last few days to get a copy of but to no avail. If anyone is kind enough, it's titled The Changing of Guard - A Survey of Malaysia and it was released on April the 5th, please send it to me!!!. I got a few quips and quotes of the article from an article written in the Star [view here] I DO agree that we deserve the decency of an apology from The Economist, but look, please, don't ban it! It's bad enough that only a small minority of Malaysians read the magazine but nevertheless we need objective reading material these days... and yes, that does include the high and mighty voice of those 'Ang Mo's! So this is my little, tiny, individual plea (which will not be read and hopefully if it is JPA will not take away my scholarship) to not ban The Economist. I still haven't finished reading on China...

What 'flavour' of Malaysian are you?
No! I'm not taking more of those emode tests... I'm still sore about the Pink Chiffon fiasco... This title appeared on the front page of The Star, our local English daily, today. And I'm feeling rather miffed because I can't relate to *any* of the flavour categories! Die-lah! I'm not a Malaysian, is it?
Go check out which category of Malaysian YOU belong to here

Sorry, I can't help the colour scheme at the moment....

It hurts her
You can tell
As the tears become a veil
Around her placid brown eyes
Endorsing the reality
Which she wishes were a dream
She still dreams
Of better times
But time has not been kind
To either of them
A right match, wrong time
A rose that had blossomed too soon
Nipped by winter's frost
Casting a shadow on the moon
Which would cry for her if it could
But what's the use of crying?
When what she wants is light
To shine on her way
But it shines
On too many ways
She's afraid of choosing
For fear choice will turn against her
But she's determined
To follow the moon
While scarred memories cling on
Like frightened children
She wishes but she can't let go
And there are shadows in her eyes
But you can still see the moon

For my dearest friend who's been through so much... she's so much happier now...

Bits and pieces

Last night's icq conversation with Anushia (slightly modified):
Baby Seal: wei i just printing my assginment gonna sleep soon got test tomolo liao. :-( i die oredi
Me: haiyah... u say that about EVERY test!! you WON'T die!!!
Baby Seal: i am gonna .... study in 2 days ok.. damn freaked oredi
Me: er... calm down you've gotta realise tt every exam is not the end of the world. if it was.... anu, you must have a real knack of reincarnating everytime! I think ur the best drama queen when it comes to exam hysterics... they really should have an academy award for your category!
**// Thinks to self: If they really did have such a category, Anushia would have won it 5 years in a row, and proceed to make Oscar history by winning it throughout every year of her Medical Student life! //**

What is your signature colour?
I took the test at emode and the result is...

**breathes deeply**

CHIFFON PINK???!!!!
Oh come on! Me? Have I become synonymous with ballet barbie, cotton candy and Baby Spice? Or have I just been living in denial all this while thinking I am some sardonic sarcastic b*tch... I'm leading a delusional life!
btw... I took the "How Passionate are You?" test too... I've had imaginary fangs all this while...

Plastic Perfection
I have had an overdose of articles on plastic surgery that it's beginning to freak me out. ABC has a new reality show called Extreme Makeover (read about it at my all time favourite reality news online) where
//quote//
ABC takes the makeover show to the extreme when they provide two women with a variety of plastic surgery to take care of lips, eyes, breasts, stomachs, teeth, and more! Why just go in for a new hairstyle when you can get a whole new body?
//unquote//
Interesting... plastic surgery is becoming entertainment! Then in yesterday's Malay Mail I read an article about men who were image conscious enough to face the surgeons scalpel. Honestly I couldn't tell the difference between the before and after photos... slight diffrences that drinking loads of water and having the right amount of sleep could repair without needing pain killers! And today in Marie Claire (erm... do not ask me why I am reading women's magazines but due to boring hours of waiting for my mum's line dancing classes to be over I can now tell you the entire contents of Cleo, Women's Weekly... and what's that other magazine called again?), I read an article on women paying thousands of pounds (a complete face job could put me through 2 years of university!) just to have that perfect nose and ironed out skin!
Well! I foresee having many artificial looking colleagues who gather around the coffee pot to talk about "Lisa's doctor is just a wonder! Did you see how he made those nose to mouth lines disappear?" and "God bless the man who invented Botox!" (hmm... it could have been a woman). And just as I adamantly will not rebond my hair to look different from my svelte college mates with long iron-straight hair... I believe in say about 40 years, I might just stand out from the mass of plastic clones as the only one with real dimples, double eyelids and laugh lines!

Word on the tip of my tongue
Dulcinea - meaning sweetheart

Have you ever felt
Anger seep through you
Like Blood
Seeping through
The welcoming fibres
Of an unoffensive
White, blank, sheet
Painting you red
A boiling fury
Of Red
Just Red
While your heart longs to cry

I had another 'fight' with Greg last night about the Msia vs Spore issue for the umpteenth time. I hate fighting with him... because he's usually right, and I can never come up with a good enough counter attack which he cannot put down. Aaargh! That was a feminist cry that translates as: I hate not being right. And I should be shot and skinned alive for using subversive tactics (i.e. crying) to win arguments.

Just a little interesting quote that caught my eye today: All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his.
(The Importance of Being Earnest - Oscar Wilde)

Two separate frequencies
One lonely night
Modulating amplitudes
One left and one right
They once were coherant
Resonated from the same source
But one interference
Set them off on their own course
One took the left
And the other took the right
Swearing they will never meet again
For if it so happens
By pure coincidence
They'll deflect away on separate plains

Erm... you won't get this unless you did Physics. By the way... contrary to what you might think... I hated the chapter on waves the most!

I finally got my lazy bum off my lazy chair to book tickets for 'The Complete Works of William Shakespeare'... comedy style. I missed it when I was in Singapore (the Arts students didn't tell me about it and the Engineering faculty students never take their noses out of their text books). Anyway, I *have* to relate this incident with my little sister (13 yrs) because it was just so amusing!
sis: Why are we going to watch Shakespeare? What is it about?
me: erm... you know er... Romeo and Juliet?
sis: Yeah I know! Are they going to say the poem in my literature text book?
me: What poem?
sis: Life's Brief Candle?
me: You mean, out, out brief candle?
sis: Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow
me: er... yeah... that one....
sis: And what else is going to happen
me: Well... other plays. You know like Twelfth Night?
sis: er...
me: The play I did for SPM lit...
sis: huh?
me: The one about the twins! Where the girl dresses up as a boy!
sis: Oh!! I know that one... there... (points to picture of Gwyneth Paltrow in the newspapers). She acted in it right?
me: erm... NO!!!
sis: yeah! She did! I saw!
me: That was Shakespeare in Love!
sis: oh, got what else?
me: Midsummers Nights Dream
sis: *blank look*
me: The one that Ally Macbeal person acted in
sis: oh... with the donkey!
me: er yes... and then there's Love's Labours Lost
sis: er...
me: The one that Alicia Silverstone acted in...
sis: oh... boring...
me: And there will be Hamlet, Macbeth, Merchant of Venice...
sis: Hamlet?
me: "To be or not to be?"
sis: I know that one!!
me: Ok good! You're all ready to watch Shakespeare next Thursday
sis: See! I told kor-kor (elder brother) I know all about Shakespeare!
Sigh... if it wasn't for the fact that we are eerily almost duplicates in looks, I'd swear she was adopted!

I want time to fly
While I sleep and let the world
Pass by
I want time to fly
So I'll wake up in another phase
Of my life
I want time to fly
Because I don't want to deal
With today
I want time to fly
I want to fly with it before its
too late
Fly past these numbers
Theories and dates
Fly pass these tests
The worry and fate
Fly away from it all
Past the barrier of sound
But my wings cannot fly
They are pinned to the ground

16/09/2000

I hate studying for exams. Sometimes I want time to fast forwards so that everything will be over and at the same time I want time to rewind so that I can gain back all those minutes I wasted dilly-dallying over mundane things like clipping my toe nails and not studying. I'm a born procrastinator... and I have NEVER been fully prepared for any test I've sat for in my life (except Modern Math which was a brain dead subject).

Finally the Iraq war no longer hogs the headlines of our English Dailies. (Well, in the case of The Malay Mail tabloid news always preceded any other news, but they don't count). SARS has taken over and I am rather amused to see Malaysia and Singapore repressing their innate habit of throwing insults across the causeway and working together (although stepping on each others toes once in a while) to overcome this vile disease. Looking on the brighter side of things, SARS may actually seal the wound that was caused by the water issue and the Pulau Batu Puteh/Pedra Branca fights. I'm idealistic? Yeah I know... I'm the one dating a Singaporean aren't I?

Family News Flash: I have a new niece. My cousin just delivered a beautiful baby girl called Emma! Jane Austen would be pleased! Considering that I have no affinity towards my 2 older nephews Christopher & Michael and my rather irritating niece, Jaime, and that I'm barely acquainted with my baby nephews Scotti, William, Elliot & Nathan, nor my other baby nieces Kathryn and Julie (the fact that I actually know their names at all is impressive!), I'm hoping Emma will be a little angel. The fact that she currently lives in Melbourne, thousands of miles away from me, helps alot!

Yesterday
If you gave me a rose
I would kiss you
And thank you for your kindness
For touching my heart
Today
You have handed me a bouquet
And asked me to pick one
Perplexed
I try to illiminate
Colour coordinate
Or even count the days before they wither
But I can't pick one
Won't you help me?
Why can't the flower pick me?

No matter how hard I try, I can't remember why I wrote this. It doesn't help that it's not dated. My closest guess is that it was written at a point in time when I couldn't decide where my ambitions lay. I still can't. I must be the only engineering student in the world whose dream is to open a craft shop!

Cruel slayer, darkest nights
The cold winds of November
Could not have frozen a heart as such
One sullen, merciless prayer
For vixens rule with coquetish eyes
And hearts they can set on fire
But with one strike, a cunning Delilah
Has stabbed a heart with treacherous desire
Once fancy dreams, are nightmare's real
And the cold rains won't stop pouring
For womenkind is a vile disease
With no cure nor a forewarning
Tread if you must, set chase to Diana
But beware her hunting arrow shot
Run as you might, take cover and hide
But your heart is never safe from this evil plot

I doesn't take much to crush a guy's heart into pulp sometimes. They can be such weak little fools... Damn! I so know I'm going to get a ear-full from someone later...

I saw a sparrow outside my window
And I told it "Life's full of crap!
"You kill yourself doing all this shit
"And in the end you get nothing back!
"If I had wings like you did
"I'd fly away from here
"Escape the troublesome fate of men
"If not I'll die, I fear"
The sparrow shook its head in sorrow
In such a way that sparrows do
And he said, "Life's full of crap, BUT
"The crap is made by you
"So what if you had my wings?
"Would that excuse you from stress and worry?
"Would you rather fear a hunters gun
"Than life's bustling haste and hurry?
"Just as I risk my life each day
"The challenge opens things anew
"I learn from each mistake I make
"Like spending time talking to you!
"Make life your own, you're only crap
"Of you feel each task is shitty
"Then what excuse can you give yourself
"For you made life this gritty!"
I thought real hard and soon realised
That life's crap is my own fault
And if I pulled myself together I'd realise
That sparrows can't talk for nuts!

Chuckle! Just one of those times when I felt like writing something totally nonsensical. Throw out the Jewel and bring in the Spike Milligan. Yup... just one of those days...

You think when you're 20 you'd remember not to do really stupid things like...
1. Wear a white T-shirt when it looks like rain and you're out jogging with a guy
2. Switch on my headlights at night... after driving for 10 minutes without them...
I was thinking about Singapore's allegations about our media as I was reading the Malay Mail today. Maybe they're right after all. But then again... they don't know that the Malay Mail is a tabloid. It's all a matter of misunderstanding. But then again, the Straits Times which is definitely NOT a Singaporean tabloid runs equally scandolous news on Malaysia. So what do *they* have to say about that?

And now the whole world is laughing
In its own cynical way
In the face of fear
Knowing it has betrayed
They fear not the guilt
The poor and weak know
They stand in whispers
From the laughter below

Hold out your hand
I'll reach out to touch
The heartache the spirits
All thrown in the dust
The ailing the lonely
As much as I can
Battle the laughter
The evil withstand

Give up not your children
Tell them hope's near
While money burns bright
No one is holier
Greed and revenge
Mingle and dance
The innocent watch aghast
At sin in its trance

Lead us not into what befalls
Take away hate, good neighbours call
Shed all that's earthly
Gaze at the sky
Watch the same stars
God made so bright
Know there is love
Know there is care
We won't despair
We know God's really there.

Wrote this when I was in form 4, very active in CB, and still strong in my faith. I want to believe I still believe... especially in times like these

Incoherent personal ramblings ahead.
I saw you in my dreams last night. And it was so real. I could see you clearly, I heard your voice, I felt the warmth of your presence... and I was so happy. I think I've been keeping all the missing and tears pent up, and that's why you appeared last night... because my soul needed somewhere to release everything. But the worst part was waking up, realising that you weren't beside me... and crying because a dream had played tricks on me! That wasn't fair at all!
Lion City Report 21/04/03 : Nothing new. Pasir Panjang market has been closed as a precautionary measure. I don't think that in anyway is insulting. I'm scared though. Greg lives in Pasir Panjang!

Woodland Spells

Whistle down winters
Of glazed covered snow
Heed not the weather
As further we go
Sing praises of nature
Drink in the sky
Set sail on a whispering
Wind's lullaby
Linger on sweet scents
That tingle on memory
Succumb to the shades
Of Twilight trickery
Answer to the echoes
Of a young cuckoo's call
Flirt with a daring
Breeze's rise and fall
Sighing tears on rosebuds
Shatter a mirrored pool
All beauties of Mother Earth
All now part of you

12/1/00

I remember telling Jason that I must have been giddy in love when I wrote this because this is a seriously embarassing work! Nevermind... I liked the rhyming....

Happy Easter! Hallelujah! I can eat meat again!
Alright... that was rather out of context, but I have the right to rejoice after surviving only on fish and vegetables for the past 40 days. And it wasn't just me. My whole family decided to give up red meat for Lent... so for over a month my wonderful mum who came up with a million ways to cook tofu fed us on green stuff and seafood.
So after 40 days my brother was ready to pounce on a huge rib eye steak... but as circumstances had to be... our favourite steak house closes on Sundays, so Dad took us to... *groan*... a SEAFOOD restaurant! But never mind, they had very good pig knuckles.
I'll pass on the tofu, thank you!
Lion City Report 20/04/02: Not even a pinprick aimed at our good neighbour down south today. Highlights? Uncle Goh's speech on how SARS is going to kill Singapore. One thing I respect about that man is that he knows he can say "In Singapore's context, like it or not, people understand fines" without flinching. Read more here

1st January 2000

I can hear a silent cry in the night
So soft it's deafening
Yet its brilliant masked face stares at me
As it tries to convince me
It has rustic charm
That it holds an untouched, unstained
Millenium in its hands
A lighted doorway
For mankind to enter
But I in my disbelief
Brush it off
Like an inferior speck of dust
And as I move away, it glowers
And bursts into one or two sparkles
Cheap glamour
It has conned the weak
Into believing it's all worth something
But I won't be taken in
I'll wait for the authentic
I'll wait another year

Everyone knows the 'authentic' Millenium is really 1st January 2001. Oh fine. Dispute it. I don't care. Never knew what the whole hype about the Millenium was anyway

Latest update on my blogger. I've managed to insert a link for photos. Go techy me! And after being riled up by Greg's lousy OCS lectures on Malaysian vs Singaporean politics I'm going to do my own little survey on our Malaysian media.
Lion City Report 19/04/02: Singapore was not insulted in the papers today.

Examination Dramatics

Sitting alone, facing a sheet
Of twisted puzzling schemes
Filled within, a pressure erupting
Of outer-worldly screams
The choices of indecision
Leave shivers down your spine
While your heart prays for hours to pass
Or else to turn back time
Each unpredictable moment
Unfolds a mini melodrama
And every sigh signals the end
To an immense emotianal trauma
And deja vu dances around you
The familiar sights and sounds
Have all been seen and done before
Each time exam season comes around

I have to thank History exams for inspiring many an exam themed poem! Studying History must have been the most tormentous thing in the world... but now that I don't study it anymore, I think it was quite a nice subject after all. =)

I feel terribly ashamed complaining about my family's income. I just read in the papers today that the average Iraqi family has an income of $3 US a month. That's 12 ringgit a month. That's not even as much as the price of my new sandals! Shame on me!
In other news... (oops, that sort of caught on from reading Grace's blog)... today in French class one of the Ah Lians wore a baby tee with a picture of the Virgin Mary on it. Unless this is in preparation for Easter, and I have my doubts that she (the Ah Lian) is a Catholic, I do not think the Blessed Mother should be worn as a fashion accessory! I was very tempted to ask if she was Catholic but a little voice in my head said "stop being a holier than thou idiot! you who's faith has been as fragile as a candle in a blizzard for the last 2 years!".

Tomorrow's Dreams

I saddle my horse
To ride away with the wind
Into the uncertain horizon
Of my future
I'm leaving behind
Girlhood's frivolous nature
Letting fate tempt me
Into choosing my path
Where there's no return
And I shed a tear as the gates
To my youth
Close on me
Packing my dreams into a box
Labelled reality
The winds have changed
And I stand beside the ghost of my past
As nostalgia whispers
Forgotten prose in my ear
I am now my own master
I have grown up

I love this poem. Jewel inspired. It was the very first time reality pounced viciously on me and I woke up knowing I had to grow up. I wrote it sometime towards the end of Form 5. But the funny thing was I don't think I did grow up in junior college. If anything, RJ and Odac kept me younger longer. And even though I gave up all my girlishness while I was in Singapore, its come back to me with a vengeance. Explains the pinks and purples, the patient skin care routine, the lipstick in my handbag, the many many new pairs of shoes. Sigh...

Have not blogged for awhile, but have had some thoughts on my mind... let me just leave some here to take the weight off...
1. It doesn't matter that you are one out of 20 Singaporeans (do not ask why I am considered a Singaporean, this one I cannot fathom either) accepted into a prestigious Ivy League. People will still say, "Oh, yeah, I think Brown is quite a good university also" or "Brown... is... in England, right?" or worse still, "Brown ah... what university is that? Why didn't you apply to Harvard?". I rest my case.
2. You only realise that you are poor... very poor... when you have to fill in your scholarship form looking absolutely destitute as your family survives on your Dad's income which is a measly 5000 ringgit a month and selling the family home won't even be enough to cover the cost of your education!

Interval of Silence

They can't hear me
They won't perceive my thoughts
They implore me
Just talk, speak, respond!
But it's all a buzzing distant
Harmony in the background
Of my intricate world
Which weaves gossamer threads of raindrops
Each a glint of Sunlight
Each similar
Each different
Pirouetting upon a silver stage
That serves as my window ledge
And shimmers into pools of melted hopes
A cadence in its mesmerising waltz
Then they return
They look at me and shake their heads
They try to envision
What it is
That has locked
The doors between our worlds
And thrown away the key
Yet little do they know
The gateway to my universe
Is simplicity
To hear the symphony
Of the wind in it's rising and falling grace
And there are no intervals of silence
As its tuneful melody plays on
And the mirages stand still
In my vast world I call a reality
All relating only to that which is felicity personified
But they'll only call it idle dreams
They'll never know
Things aren't always what they seem

The first of my poems to be publised... in Sri Aman's yearbook (2000). Dreamy... that's always been me... just living in my world of dreams

This afternoon the Iraq UN Ambassador pronounced that the war was over... then Donald Rumsfield keeps appearing on screen saying there is more to fight (what *is* this American obsession about fighting?)... then BBC and CNN keeps replaying footages of Saddam's statue being pulled down, defaced, defiled and used as a dancing platform for elated Iraqis... I just wonder how come there is no footage of them doing the same to American and British troops... maybe after they realise that nothing is being done to rebuild Iraq and looting and plundering becomes part of the national economy. No more to say. Am not trying to impose my own political views......... right!

The placidness of a face
Hides many convulsions of feelings
Banging on the locked doors
But they can't be released
Won't be leased to life
The trickery in a smile
Reads many chapters
Of many scenes
Mirages, all of them are
I'm afraid to know what's
on the other side of the mirror
Afraid my eyes will tell all

Maybe there is a wall... after all...

There are two Ah Lians in my French class. Unlike many people, I haven't really had to the chance to meet a real Ah Lian face to face nor many Ah Bengs. But the two in French class are enough to send shivers down my spine such that I swear I will NEVER visit APIIT (due to Sachpal's many many blood curdling horror stories). Maybe I'm exagerating but every word those Ah Lians speak is similar to nails on a black board. And I'm selios lor! Veli pain to my ears ah!! Soli. I act big big... like elitist but I leally cannot tahan lah!!

Where so raindrops go
When they fall on desert sands?
Do they ever find their way back
To themselves?

Or do they disperse
In the intensity of the alien heat
Which is not them?

Was trying to find myself. Its still lost

*OH*MY*GOSH* (Imagine this in squeaky Janice-ala-FRIENDS-fame voice) Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh! Its been 14 hours and I think I'm still dreaming. Did I read that right? The part that said 'we look forward to seeing you at Brown'? I've been accepted into an Ivy League! Me? That's my name on the letter, right? Albeit it says Charlotte S. Yeow... albeit the post man said "I have a parcel for Charles...erm...Tee Yeoh?" It's me! They actually want me! Even though I wrote in my application that the one reason I wanted to go to Brown is because the name Providence just thrills me! Call me in a few days... I think I would have gotten over the exhilaration and hot-air-balloon headedness by then. If not, you can read about Brown University yourself right here *nudge* less than 5 Malaysians are accepted into Brown every year. Ok, ok I'm sorry! Just let me enjoy my moment for awhile!
By the way I'm also floating about 10 cm off the ground because Greg got posted into Officer Cadet School and I'm just so proud of him! Besides, army guys in that white polished OCS uniform are such a big turn on in comparison to the grubby common green everyone else wears.

There ain't such a thing
As a summer breeze
We learn the hard way
So fast, so please
Tell the world that
Innocence ain't a shield
It pierced me harder
Than an ultra violet beam
Darkness covers its ugly skin
And pretends to be your friend

My favourite line everytime I made a huge mistake in my life used to be "But I was young then!". Maggie will attest to that. Ironic that I've had to learn through experience that experience *is* life's true teacher

I just fumigated my room. I saw a cockroach crawling into it, so I grabbed a can of insect spray (at least I *hope* it was insect spray) and blindly smogged my entire room, slammed the door and ran as far away as I could. Which leads to my sitting in front of my comp, half awake and wondering how long it takes half a litre of insect spray to kill one cockroach? Makes me think of that light bulb question... which makes me think of that Singapore JC light bulb question (How many Rafflesians does it take to change a light bulb? 4 faculties) which makes me think about thinking.
I don't really think much perse. Sometime after form 5, I let my brain become idle, and then the water seeped in which helped increase the rate of rusting which in turn caused the screws to disintegrate and fall out... and after awhile I just stopped thinking deeply about things. Just didn't care. If things don't affect me why should I waste brain cells on it? But that's only a one way ticket to dumb blonde-ville!
But lets say, hypothetically speaking, I was thinking about how to decorate a flower basket... now that's something I could spend hours thinking about... and after a week I would have come up with 1000 ways to decorate said basket! Give me something creative to brain storm about and my brain works at a trillion to the power of a billion GHz! But that only makes me think how shallow a person I am.
I don't think about world hunger, or potical controversies or even what makes people tick. And then when an emotional problem blows up in my face and I *have* to think about it I wonder that I never thought about it before and could have prevented the whole mess in the first place... either that or I just get confused and sob till someone else gives in. Not the best of answers but it does provide temporary relief.
I have a strange strange mind... I'm not sure I even understand it anymore...

Only I know why I feel spring
Only I can hear sparrows' songs
Only my mind knows the light of day
Only I know I've seen dawn

Mad ramblings. Sometimes I write things that... just.... rhyme? and sound nice?

I have a baby brother
He is 17
But he's still my baby brother, who recently got angry at me over our shared bathroom and hid my toothbrush. Knowing he was up to one of his childish pranks when I couldn't find my toothbrush, I just used his. For a week. Until I found my toothbrush carefully hidden behind the shampoo bottles.
This isn't the first time. A few years ago he got made at me for hogging the Internet one night so he stormed into his room and didn't come out. I unwittingly went to sleep at 11 p.m. At 12 midnight my alarm clock rang. Thinking I'd set it by mistake I shut it off and went back to sleep. At 1a.m. the alarm on my swatch watch went off. Now, I couldn't be that much of an idiot of set 2 alarms at such unholy hours. But what the heck, shut off watch alarm, yawn, go back to sleep. At 2 a.m. I awoke to the sounds of a train whistle and a chug-a-chug-a-chug thundering in my room. Since when did dreams become so visual? I searched high and low for the source of this phantom train and finally pulled out my brother's christmas present from under my bed : an alarm clock in the shape of a train crossing light! No prizes for guessing who had planted it there.
But that's my baby brother for you. Never underestimate the mischieviousnous of a baby brother. Especially when ONE of your koala bear slippers goes missing... and you find it sitting on the roof tiles outside your window ledge... as my baby sister would tell you

The night before History Exam

Twilight lingers, fingering the tree tops
Sleep beckons me
As I shiver in the cold
Thought playing catch in my mind
Making no sense
Unorganised
Darkness draws my eyelids
Closer
closer
But the tinge of coffee on my tongue
Brings consciousness around again
I am alone
With only paper
Pens
And dates
Blackmailed into arranging
Confusion into order
Before I dig my own grave
Tomorrow
And sink deeper into it
With each question unanswered

12/10/99

I had so much fun writing this. Because it meant a few minutes of escape from dates and names. History was my most dreaded subject. It's such a torture to study! Explains why it was the first subject dropped from my list after SPM

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!!