I want to go back to when you first caught my attention, and I reached out for yours.
Going the wrong way just to spend a few more minutes with you.
The photographs you'd send me, and the video calls, room service.
I want to run after you and grab your hand, intertwining our fingers together.
Walking anywhere.
I remember that smile I tried so hard to capture in photographs.
I want to relive our first kiss on the rooftop, frozen yogurt and reaching home a little too late.
How we exchanged shoes and got lost.
All the other sacrifices you'd make, the stairway, the helplessness and yet security.
I want to remember the pain which made the happiness sweeter.
...
But.
Clear as crystal, clear as day.
Memories will remain memories.
I can recall in as much detail as I want to, but it will never be again.
And it hurts.
Now I know how you felt, now I know how it broke you.
We have ridden the tides of change, heading in different directions.
I can no longer hope for the currents to switch.
But I hope that your storms quieten to mere drizzles.
You won't read this, but I'm still selfish enough to wish that you will.
I can't help but remember the pain which made the happiness sweeter.
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
Wednesday, August 2, 2017
The Silver Crown
Making the decision to look for this book, buy it for $2, and read all of it on a weekday was the best decision I have made this month.
Like many people who read this as a child (according to goodreads), this book has haunted me, and I remember reading it as a child, I borrowed it again and again from my school library, because it felt like a book I needed to keep close to me. I'm not sure if I read it once or twice, but a particular phrase from the ending of the book has lingered with me until this day. I can still vaguely remember the cover of the book, a little girl with a silver crown on her head, talking to a bunny.
Spoilers ahead, if you want to read this book. Even though it's a children's book, it touches on pretty dark concepts and I was kept on tenderhooks throughout the book.
The particular phrase that prompted me to search for the book was
"Who weareth the black crown, I rule.
Who weareth the silver crown, ruleth me."
which is basically what the book is about. It mixes past with present, fantasy with real-life, and technology with magic, in a seamless story centered upon a queen.
It is so unique in its vivid description, plot reveal, and concept, although I feel that the ending is pretty rushed. The concept is so creepy, and even more so because it feels like it could exist in this world where we live.
I don't think I can say anything more about this book. Just read it. If you need a copy, borrow mine.
Wednesday, July 12, 2017
still upset that
vjc doesn't offer music and now I realised I might want to take music in uni but I can't bc I don't think I can learn an etude, a scarlatti piece, a first movement, a 19th century and a 20th century piece by heart by mid next-year (or ever)
can't even go for composition bc I have no portfolio I am sad
fk got mosquito
can't even go for composition bc I have no portfolio I am sad
fk got mosquito
Friday, July 7, 2017
CT2s
okay
CT1 was absolute trash I got 23 percentile like :(
so I tried more for CT2, and thus I thought I would actually do better
but so far my bio MCQ is 17/30 and my chem MCQ is 16/30 and I swear jontee is fking sadistic like "hohohohooo more fun for u to mark by yourself hoho"
ahhhh shiiiiit.
praying damn hard for paper 2 for bio & chem bc I rlly need both to be at least B but it doesn't look like it's happening
also praying that I at least get D for econs (even tho I nvr actually study), and C for math & GP.
hahahaha can I please be at least 50 percentile too thanks.
feeling like I can't face my teachers at all because I have absolutely no excuses for doing shit bc I actually tried sorta.
oh wells but grades aren't everything just a stepping stone to other things. jiayous everyone else, hope y'all met/meeting your goals
I'll update my grades here to keep track
Saturday, June 10, 2017
Friday, June 2, 2017
tsaeB eht dna ytuaeB
Once upon a time, there lived a Prince and a Princess, who loved each other very much. Together with their loyal servants and handmaids, they led a peaceful life in their castle, and every day they would visit their vast library to read the many books they had and lovingly tend to their beautiful rose garden.
However, as the days went by, the Princess grew bored of the castle. She wanted to experience life outside the castle, but was tied to her various duties, as well as to the Prince. Slowly, her longing developed into an obsession with the outside world, and she no longer cared for the Prince, instead blaming him for trapping her inside the castle. She no longer visited the library with him, nor walked in the garden with him.
One moonlit night, she decided that she would leave the castle forever. As the Prince was sleeping, she packed her belongings and prepared to go. Placing a single dried rose from their garden in a glass jar, she whispered, "My love for you, just like this rose, is no longer alive. I'm sorry, but I must go."
Looking at the Prince for the final time, she leaned down to give him one last kiss. The moment their lips touched, lightning crackled, thunder boomed and rain started to fall. The Prince's cerulean eyes flew open in shock, and the Princess sprang back, hurriedly exiting the room. Taking a horse from the stables, she urged it forwards into the rain, and rode into the surrounding forest.
The Prince, on the other hand, was slow to understand what had transpired. He sat up and saw that the Princess' belongings were gone. He saw the single dried rose that she left behind. And only when he went to the window to see her galloping off on a horse through the pouring rain, he realised that he would never see his love again.
Clutching the rose in his hand, he shed a single tear, which landed in the centre of the flower. The dead petals started to glow, and from within manifested a woman of light.
"I can take away your grief," the woman purred, "but of course, it will come at a price." The Prince, overcome with sadness, agreed. So then the woman revealed herself to be a witch, and stole the Prince's ability to feel love and joy along with his grief, sealing his emotions in the dead rose. She turned the Prince into a horrendous Beast, and his castle staff into talking furniture.
"Your love and joy will feed the rose, bringing it back to life, petal by petal. And only on a night like this, when I come again, will I reverse this curse." The witch disappeared with these parting words, and the Prince-turned-Beast howled in fury, as he could feel not sorrow nor happiness.
The howl reached the Princess' ears, who by then had slowed the horse down to a trot. She shuddered at the sound, and continued riding through the forest, in the direction of a neighbouring village.
At daybreak, when the rain had become a light drizzle, the village came into sight. She stopped at the first house she saw, where a kind old man, who was an inventor, let her stay.
She grew to love the village, and the people who lived there with stories to tell. The villagefolk referred to her as "Belle" because of her beauty, and she accepted the name as her own. She led a humble but happy life in the village, with the old man she loved like a father.
Meanwhile, the Beast in the castle turned mad with rage. He could think about nothing but the Princess, for he believed it was her fault that he was cursed. The talking furniture would discuss in hushed tones about ways to appease him, as the Beast roared and growled, pacing in the neglected garden that no longer bloomed with roses, plotting to capture the Princess.
One day, the Princess roamed deep into the forest looking for rare plants that the old man required for his newest invention. The Beast, who had a keen sense of smell, detected her presence from the castle and took the opportunity to seize and imprison her in his castle.
In what was once her home, she was treated as a prisoner, locked up in a high tower with only stale water and dry bread to consume. The talking furniture were forbidden from going anywhere near the tower, and so she lived in solitude and fear of the Beast, whom she could not recognise as the Prince she used to love. No amount of screaming or fighting could overpower the Beast, so before long, she stopped trying.
As the hourglass-like rose became more alive, she grew colder and deader. And alas, she perished in the tower, alone.
Over a hundred years later, did the last petal finally spring the life. It was a stormy night, same as the night that the Princess chose to leave the castle. From the rose, the witch appeared, and was pleased at the cruel actions of the Beast, for she was evil and twisted to the core.
She returned the talking furniture to their former selves. She returned the Beast his human form. Lastly, she returned him the ability to feel love, to feel joy, and to feel grief. And grieve, he did immensely for the rest of his short life, remembering all he had done to the Princess whom he loved, and knowing that he could never undo his terrible mistake.
The witch disappeared into the night, laughing sadistically, and she lived happily ever after.
The end.
However, as the days went by, the Princess grew bored of the castle. She wanted to experience life outside the castle, but was tied to her various duties, as well as to the Prince. Slowly, her longing developed into an obsession with the outside world, and she no longer cared for the Prince, instead blaming him for trapping her inside the castle. She no longer visited the library with him, nor walked in the garden with him.
One moonlit night, she decided that she would leave the castle forever. As the Prince was sleeping, she packed her belongings and prepared to go. Placing a single dried rose from their garden in a glass jar, she whispered, "My love for you, just like this rose, is no longer alive. I'm sorry, but I must go."
Looking at the Prince for the final time, she leaned down to give him one last kiss. The moment their lips touched, lightning crackled, thunder boomed and rain started to fall. The Prince's cerulean eyes flew open in shock, and the Princess sprang back, hurriedly exiting the room. Taking a horse from the stables, she urged it forwards into the rain, and rode into the surrounding forest.
The Prince, on the other hand, was slow to understand what had transpired. He sat up and saw that the Princess' belongings were gone. He saw the single dried rose that she left behind. And only when he went to the window to see her galloping off on a horse through the pouring rain, he realised that he would never see his love again.
Clutching the rose in his hand, he shed a single tear, which landed in the centre of the flower. The dead petals started to glow, and from within manifested a woman of light.
"I can take away your grief," the woman purred, "but of course, it will come at a price." The Prince, overcome with sadness, agreed. So then the woman revealed herself to be a witch, and stole the Prince's ability to feel love and joy along with his grief, sealing his emotions in the dead rose. She turned the Prince into a horrendous Beast, and his castle staff into talking furniture.
"Your love and joy will feed the rose, bringing it back to life, petal by petal. And only on a night like this, when I come again, will I reverse this curse." The witch disappeared with these parting words, and the Prince-turned-Beast howled in fury, as he could feel not sorrow nor happiness.
The howl reached the Princess' ears, who by then had slowed the horse down to a trot. She shuddered at the sound, and continued riding through the forest, in the direction of a neighbouring village.
At daybreak, when the rain had become a light drizzle, the village came into sight. She stopped at the first house she saw, where a kind old man, who was an inventor, let her stay.
She grew to love the village, and the people who lived there with stories to tell. The villagefolk referred to her as "Belle" because of her beauty, and she accepted the name as her own. She led a humble but happy life in the village, with the old man she loved like a father.
Meanwhile, the Beast in the castle turned mad with rage. He could think about nothing but the Princess, for he believed it was her fault that he was cursed. The talking furniture would discuss in hushed tones about ways to appease him, as the Beast roared and growled, pacing in the neglected garden that no longer bloomed with roses, plotting to capture the Princess.
One day, the Princess roamed deep into the forest looking for rare plants that the old man required for his newest invention. The Beast, who had a keen sense of smell, detected her presence from the castle and took the opportunity to seize and imprison her in his castle.
In what was once her home, she was treated as a prisoner, locked up in a high tower with only stale water and dry bread to consume. The talking furniture were forbidden from going anywhere near the tower, and so she lived in solitude and fear of the Beast, whom she could not recognise as the Prince she used to love. No amount of screaming or fighting could overpower the Beast, so before long, she stopped trying.
As the hourglass-like rose became more alive, she grew colder and deader. And alas, she perished in the tower, alone.
Over a hundred years later, did the last petal finally spring the life. It was a stormy night, same as the night that the Princess chose to leave the castle. From the rose, the witch appeared, and was pleased at the cruel actions of the Beast, for she was evil and twisted to the core.
She returned the talking furniture to their former selves. She returned the Beast his human form. Lastly, she returned him the ability to feel love, to feel joy, and to feel grief. And grieve, he did immensely for the rest of his short life, remembering all he had done to the Princess whom he loved, and knowing that he could never undo his terrible mistake.
The witch disappeared into the night, laughing sadistically, and she lived happily ever after.
The end.
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
so many thoughts too little words
what the shit I realised that my recent posts were freaking emo?? I legit not sad I just "expressing my creativity" or whatever nonsense. I like writing shit okay. now I sound like a 5 year old please excuse me while I grow up
so yups I wanted to start my last june holidays ever with a blog post. and I don't really have a subject in mind on what to talk about or anything, so I'll just ramble I guess.
but first! let me try to write a poem. let's hope it doesn't turn emo
ahem. (let me time this, I'm sure it'll take quite a while) IT TOOK LIKE 1 HOUR I AM A FAILURE
"haven't you heard
about her
the little girl
who dreams in the woods without slumber
she who never eats
who never drinks
can't even scream
since she was cursed to spin"
I made it into a song kinda. a little tune. contact me if u want to hear it
^ OKAY THAT WAS A FEW DAYS AGO FML PROCRASTINATION IS GREAT
anyway I decided what I wanted to talk about today. I'll draft my next instagram post here lmao. mostly about term 2
contents:
#1 secret society
#2 sops, choir
#3 ppl who came sov
and then I'll try to draft my T3A thing and personal statement here too, so at least I get some motivation (since I actually enjoy writing on my blog, and I can also kinda document my different drafts and see how it has changed)
*figuratively cracks knuckles because I don't actually crack my knuckles*
term 2 was crazy hectic, and I'm so glad we were together through it all :) I really appreciate all of you, and I'm not v good with emotions and expressing how I feel, but I'm super thankful for everything we've done together (like going for each other's concerts and getting balloons hahaha) and the memories we've forged. (also not v good with emojis pls forgive) 🙏 atb for CT2s hehe 💗
super delayed post no. 1:
thank you sops for the best VJChoir experience ever! it was really fun being with all of you, and I'm so blessed to be able to sing alongside such beautiful voices 💗 special thank yous to chery and mich for being the best sl and sc ever!! let's meet up again soon :))
#vjlungsgotpower
super delayed post no. 2
being part of VJChoir is a once-in-a-lifetime experience that I won't ever forget. I'll miss all of you very very much and I really hope we keep in touch. SOV 2017 was truly magical! to the juniors, all the best 💪💪 #nomanisanisland #togetherweperform
super delayed post no. 3
thank you to everyone who came to support us for SOV 2017! sorry if I couldn't/didn't take a photo with you though :( I hope you enjoyed the concert 🙆🙆 it was amazing performing for all of you!
okay now that's outta the way, lemme go ahead and post the first one. I'll post the choir ones after hn/tt
hey wait I can actually post the supporters one like tmr or smth
oh yes I should just write out a to-do list rn:
1) slv briefing by TODAY
2) notes for choir ppl
3) gdi notes for freshies who are no longer freshies gg.com
4) shit I forgot something didn't I
5) ah academic crap (see below)
6) oh yes medsoc shit
okay moving on to academic crap which is the writing of testimonial thing, and personal statement for General Purposes and also just for fun I guess. this is what I wrote in today's workshop (it's crap):
My elder brother is a quiet person, while I've always been quite the contrary. My parents comment that I took all the "talking genes" between him and me, as I engage in conversations about China's history with my dad, and discuss morals and values with my mother. Because of their encouragement, I have cultivated an important part of my identity, which is my intense desire to share ideas and be outspoken.
rewrite no. 1:
My brother is a quiet man, while I've always been quite the contrary. Often, my parents jokingly comment that I have inherited all the "talking genes" between him and me. Still, they indulge in my curiosity, participating in conversations that vary widely in topic, from the history of ancient China, to the importance of morals in science, depending on what I was interested in at the time. My family's constant encouragement has allowed me to cultivate what I believe is an important aspect of my identity, a burning desire to discuss ideas, and to be outspoken about mine.
I took a long time rewriting that!! idk if I should continue because it now sounds like I want to be a lawyer?? but I don't so. but it's a true story though. sighs I need to know what I want to be first.
I could continue rambling on and on and on and on (I'd make a terrible teacher) but I think I should get to doing other things. maybe save the T3A thing for tomorrow? at least my head is clearer now, and I think I've got rid of my writer's jam (which is sorta antonymous to writer's block? I made it up, it means that there are too many thoughts in the head that I want to pin down and write about and develop a story out of) so I'll be going now.
writing is amazing, it clears my head in the way completing a sudoku puzzle feels. idk hahahahhh unrestrained writing is the best. is this what they call journaling? bleh idc.
see now I can't stop. is this a sign of loneliness? like I wanna talk to people but no one to talk to? weird.
whoever reads this, you're weird too. I like you.
to quote a tumblr user: do you know how much braining it takes to make the words go?
it's quite hard to form these coherent sentences from a rojak of ideas in my mind. here's a tip btw from some writing expert: if you want to write the very best version of smth, don't edit it. print it out and rewrite it word for word. heh my pinterest scrolling is actually helpful I love this world.
a few minutes ago I saw a huge cockroach fly out from under my chair but didn't mention it until now because idk. wasn't planning to mention it. it's now on its back near the door I AM TERRIFIED.
okay my fingers are tired cya next time weirdos. probably just me gonna read this.
so yups I wanted to start my last june holidays ever with a blog post. and I don't really have a subject in mind on what to talk about or anything, so I'll just ramble I guess.
but first! let me try to write a poem. let's hope it doesn't turn emo
ahem. (let me time this, I'm sure it'll take quite a while) IT TOOK LIKE 1 HOUR I AM A FAILURE
"haven't you heard
about her
the little girl
who dreams in the woods without slumber
she who never eats
who never drinks
can't even scream
since she was cursed to spin"
I made it into a song kinda. a little tune. contact me if u want to hear it
^ OKAY THAT WAS A FEW DAYS AGO FML PROCRASTINATION IS GREAT
anyway I decided what I wanted to talk about today. I'll draft my next instagram post here lmao. mostly about term 2
contents:
#1 secret society
#2 sops, choir
#3 ppl who came sov
and then I'll try to draft my T3A thing and personal statement here too, so at least I get some motivation (since I actually enjoy writing on my blog, and I can also kinda document my different drafts and see how it has changed)
*figuratively cracks knuckles because I don't actually crack my knuckles*
term 2 was crazy hectic, and I'm so glad we were together through it all :) I really appreciate all of you, and I'm not v good with emotions and expressing how I feel, but I'm super thankful for everything we've done together (like going for each other's concerts and getting balloons hahaha) and the memories we've forged. (also not v good with emojis pls forgive) 🙏 atb for CT2s hehe 💗
super delayed post no. 1:
thank you sops for the best VJChoir experience ever! it was really fun being with all of you, and I'm so blessed to be able to sing alongside such beautiful voices 💗 special thank yous to chery and mich for being the best sl and sc ever!! let's meet up again soon :))
#vjlungsgotpower
super delayed post no. 2
being part of VJChoir is a once-in-a-lifetime experience that I won't ever forget. I'll miss all of you very very much and I really hope we keep in touch. SOV 2017 was truly magical! to the juniors, all the best 💪💪 #nomanisanisland #togetherweperform
super delayed post no. 3
thank you to everyone who came to support us for SOV 2017! sorry if I couldn't/didn't take a photo with you though :( I hope you enjoyed the concert 🙆🙆 it was amazing performing for all of you!
okay now that's outta the way, lemme go ahead and post the first one. I'll post the choir ones after hn/tt
hey wait I can actually post the supporters one like tmr or smth
oh yes I should just write out a to-do list rn:
1) slv briefing by TODAY
2) notes for choir ppl
3) gdi notes for freshies who are no longer freshies gg.com
4) shit I forgot something didn't I
5) ah academic crap (see below)
6) oh yes medsoc shit
okay moving on to academic crap which is the writing of testimonial thing, and personal statement for General Purposes and also just for fun I guess. this is what I wrote in today's workshop (it's crap):
My elder brother is a quiet person, while I've always been quite the contrary. My parents comment that I took all the "talking genes" between him and me, as I engage in conversations about China's history with my dad, and discuss morals and values with my mother. Because of their encouragement, I have cultivated an important part of my identity, which is my intense desire to share ideas and be outspoken.
rewrite no. 1:
My brother is a quiet man, while I've always been quite the contrary. Often, my parents jokingly comment that I have inherited all the "talking genes" between him and me. Still, they indulge in my curiosity, participating in conversations that vary widely in topic, from the history of ancient China, to the importance of morals in science, depending on what I was interested in at the time. My family's constant encouragement has allowed me to cultivate what I believe is an important aspect of my identity, a burning desire to discuss ideas, and to be outspoken about mine.
I took a long time rewriting that!! idk if I should continue because it now sounds like I want to be a lawyer?? but I don't so. but it's a true story though. sighs I need to know what I want to be first.
I could continue rambling on and on and on and on (I'd make a terrible teacher) but I think I should get to doing other things. maybe save the T3A thing for tomorrow? at least my head is clearer now, and I think I've got rid of my writer's jam (which is sorta antonymous to writer's block? I made it up, it means that there are too many thoughts in the head that I want to pin down and write about and develop a story out of) so I'll be going now.
writing is amazing, it clears my head in the way completing a sudoku puzzle feels. idk hahahahhh unrestrained writing is the best. is this what they call journaling? bleh idc.
see now I can't stop. is this a sign of loneliness? like I wanna talk to people but no one to talk to? weird.
whoever reads this, you're weird too. I like you.
to quote a tumblr user: do you know how much braining it takes to make the words go?
it's quite hard to form these coherent sentences from a rojak of ideas in my mind. here's a tip btw from some writing expert: if you want to write the very best version of smth, don't edit it. print it out and rewrite it word for word. heh my pinterest scrolling is actually helpful I love this world.
a few minutes ago I saw a huge cockroach fly out from under my chair but didn't mention it until now because idk. wasn't planning to mention it. it's now on its back near the door I AM TERRIFIED.
okay my fingers are tired cya next time weirdos. probably just me gonna read this.
Friday, March 31, 2017
31/3/2017
"You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are grey
You'll never know dear
How much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away"
I don't know why this song makes me feel so sad. Especially since I don't think it applies in my life at all, since I am generally a heartless bitch.
Every time I see this song, I'm reminded about "The One That Got Away" music video by Katy Perry hahaha that was so sad honestly.
And some things I hate the most are regretting not doing something, and saying goodbye. "You'll never know dear, how much I love you" is full of regret for not expressing their love while they still could. And "Please don't take my sunshine away" is showing how they don't have a choice whether the person they love stays or not.
If I believed in soulmates (which I don't think I do), it may be that I innately know that my soulmate has already gone forever.
Sigh. Thoughts. Feelings.
Honestly so depressed right now for no good reason. Maybe it's because I have no sunshine to be taken away in the first place. And again, it's a self-defence mechanism to not open my heart fully to anybody, so I can't get hurt. What made me like this?
Sigh.
To whoever is reading, wherever you are, and whether you know me personally or not, please don't feel unnecessarily sad over this post.
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are grey
You'll never know dear
How much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away"
I don't know why this song makes me feel so sad. Especially since I don't think it applies in my life at all, since I am generally a heartless bitch.
Every time I see this song, I'm reminded about "The One That Got Away" music video by Katy Perry hahaha that was so sad honestly.
And some things I hate the most are regretting not doing something, and saying goodbye. "You'll never know dear, how much I love you" is full of regret for not expressing their love while they still could. And "Please don't take my sunshine away" is showing how they don't have a choice whether the person they love stays or not.
If I believed in soulmates (which I don't think I do), it may be that I innately know that my soulmate has already gone forever.
Sigh. Thoughts. Feelings.
Honestly so depressed right now for no good reason. Maybe it's because I have no sunshine to be taken away in the first place. And again, it's a self-defence mechanism to not open my heart fully to anybody, so I can't get hurt. What made me like this?
Sigh.
To whoever is reading, wherever you are, and whether you know me personally or not, please don't feel unnecessarily sad over this post.
Friday, March 24, 2017
Some CD
Any resemblance to real life situations is purely coincidential.
When we say that we need more manpower, that we need more people, that we need more brains to think together, we mean it.
We're not lazy. Recently, I scrolled back up through our chat, and I saw that every single day, we would be discussing a future plan, an event to be held. We work hard, we contribute, and while the cogs and the gears in the head are burning with overuse, they are sitting calmly in their seats, waiting for the fruits of our labour.
And it's not like they are always satisfied.
So, why? On the basis that there shouldn't be too many people in positions of power, you want to minimise our size?
I thought we were cultivating heroes here, in this day and age. Why don't you give them the experience they need?
We're doing the best we can, but there's so much more in life than this too. For some of us, we have large commitments elsewhere as well.
And most scary, to me, is the power of that one person. The decision-maker, the keeper. The one who can shut us down or let us pass. And it's like he doesn't see our work at all, sometimes. Like we are never good enough. And we have to hide how terribly tired we are, as that keeps us safe from his careless "you chose this path". Not even the gentle breeze of "you're working so hard" can soothe that.
Enough rambling. More work.
When we say that we need more manpower, that we need more people, that we need more brains to think together, we mean it.
We're not lazy. Recently, I scrolled back up through our chat, and I saw that every single day, we would be discussing a future plan, an event to be held. We work hard, we contribute, and while the cogs and the gears in the head are burning with overuse, they are sitting calmly in their seats, waiting for the fruits of our labour.
And it's not like they are always satisfied.
So, why? On the basis that there shouldn't be too many people in positions of power, you want to minimise our size?
I thought we were cultivating heroes here, in this day and age. Why don't you give them the experience they need?
We're doing the best we can, but there's so much more in life than this too. For some of us, we have large commitments elsewhere as well.
And most scary, to me, is the power of that one person. The decision-maker, the keeper. The one who can shut us down or let us pass. And it's like he doesn't see our work at all, sometimes. Like we are never good enough. And we have to hide how terribly tired we are, as that keeps us safe from his careless "you chose this path". Not even the gentle breeze of "you're working so hard" can soothe that.
Enough rambling. More work.
Friday, March 17, 2017
Dream
"I know that you're not real." I whisper.
He hands me a cup of sweet nothingness, motioning for me to drink. I do.
With him, it's just so easy to just sink into a comfortable, serene happiness. But I know that he treats everybody else like this, too.
"Don't be so nice, if you're just going to leave each time," I say, even while my fingers helplessly intertwine with his. He is hidden in shadows, but I can feel a hesitant look cross his face.
He begins to speak, but I talk over him, "You always give me such delightful memories, but they're never actually real. Stop teasing me, will you?"
He is silent, perhaps remorseful. I won't admit, outright, that I'm hopelessly confused by him, but I think he understands.
"~end~"
Others have come, attracted to you. If you agree with me, then I think I should go.
As I say goodbye, you conjure up some more things that leave me thinking, so that I wouldn't dwell on you.
It almost worked.
Saturday, January 14, 2017
Dear World,
First of post of 2017.
Time passing by so quickly really terrifies me. Perhaps it's because I've taken up reading again - Norwegian Wood by Murakami - and though I haven't finished reading it yet, it's an eloquently written book, with a focus on the passing of time, I guess. And sex and death. Mostly sex. Like if I were to name this book, I'd call it "Toru's Sex Life" or something.
So the reason why I own this book is actually rather weird. So basically we had this Secret Santa thing that kids of our generation are into (including me, its actually very rewarding), and my Santee asked for this very book. So I tried to find a new one on Carousell because I figured it'd be cheaper than in bookstores and I'm always broke.
So I found a listing, and I bought the book. The description claimed that the book was "new" but it obviously is not. It has pages so yellow that the book looks like McDonald's merchandise (the book cover is red) and the spine was all creased, something I've learnt to hate from jw.
If it was for me, I'd be okay with it - I like the smell of old books, and I don't really mind an ugly book as long as its story is intact. But this was going to be a gift, and it was supposed to be "new" and I had also accidentally paid $3 more than what we had agreed that I would buy it for, and the seller has not/would not return the $3 to me (a small amount but I am so broke and its a matter of principle really).
So I kept this book and I bought another one for my Santee. And I started reading it, and I wondered, why would anyone read this book? It's just really long-winded sex stuff with the guy talking about how intensely monotonous his life is. Isn't this author rather reknowned for his books? But I just kept reading and I'm on page 321 now, and though there are things I don't quite understand, there's also a feeling that I can't quite explain as I read the book.
I'm not sure if I'm imagining it, but the feeling is quite powerful. I mean, it spurred me to write this blog post, which indirectly means that I want to remember this moment in my life and how I felt. It's not nostalgia exactly, not sympathy either. It's just a deep resonant feeling, repeating and repeating, but slowly fading away now.
Maybe I don't want time to slip past me. I'm turning 18, and soon I'll be 19, 20, 30, 40 and before I know it, I'll be lying on my deathbed, hopefully looking upon faces that are familiar to this 17 year-old me, and ones that I haven't met yet, and some that don't even exist yet.
Recently, I showed this blog to a friend, and jokingly said that I should join Writer's Circle (the writing CCA in our school). Now that I think of it, I really do like writing, but I don't think I'd be happy if I had to write on a deadline. Y'know, I just want to write when I have something to say.
I'm kinda going around in circles now anyway, so I'd like to write this short paragraph to a person I admire, but I feel it'd be too awkward/strange to send it to them. Here goes:
You know how in interviews for leadership positions, they sometimes ask "So why do you want this position? Do you need this position to lead?" and my (and probably every normal person's) answer would be something like "No, but it'll definitely help me lead better because reasons."? Well, to me, you're the very personification of the question. You're a leader, with or without a position, and you have this quiet influence that is really comforting and amazing. I look up to you, and even though I've only recently got to know you a bit better, you've become quite an inspiration to me. You're a good person, and there are so few people that have made me think this way about them, so yeah, I'm not saying it lightly. You deserve the best life, and I pray that nothing ever brings you down.
That kinda got me thinking. A leadership position is kinda to acknowledge that yes indeed you've done a lot for this, and may be a form of encouragement to reward people for contributing more? I'm just writing out what I'm thinking, but those thoughts are quite raw and unanalysed, so sorry if it's not correct.
I have more things to say, but I think I'll stop here. I've rambled on enough. One last thing though... I might not understand this after some time, but for now:
I really hope it's not like that _______ ___ ___ __ ___. Please ____ __ ________.
Sayonara.
Time passing by so quickly really terrifies me. Perhaps it's because I've taken up reading again - Norwegian Wood by Murakami - and though I haven't finished reading it yet, it's an eloquently written book, with a focus on the passing of time, I guess. And sex and death. Mostly sex. Like if I were to name this book, I'd call it "Toru's Sex Life" or something.
So the reason why I own this book is actually rather weird. So basically we had this Secret Santa thing that kids of our generation are into (including me, its actually very rewarding), and my Santee asked for this very book. So I tried to find a new one on Carousell because I figured it'd be cheaper than in bookstores and I'm always broke.
So I found a listing, and I bought the book. The description claimed that the book was "new" but it obviously is not. It has pages so yellow that the book looks like McDonald's merchandise (the book cover is red) and the spine was all creased, something I've learnt to hate from jw.
If it was for me, I'd be okay with it - I like the smell of old books, and I don't really mind an ugly book as long as its story is intact. But this was going to be a gift, and it was supposed to be "new" and I had also accidentally paid $3 more than what we had agreed that I would buy it for, and the seller has not/would not return the $3 to me (a small amount but I am so broke and its a matter of principle really).
So I kept this book and I bought another one for my Santee. And I started reading it, and I wondered, why would anyone read this book? It's just really long-winded sex stuff with the guy talking about how intensely monotonous his life is. Isn't this author rather reknowned for his books? But I just kept reading and I'm on page 321 now, and though there are things I don't quite understand, there's also a feeling that I can't quite explain as I read the book.
I'm not sure if I'm imagining it, but the feeling is quite powerful. I mean, it spurred me to write this blog post, which indirectly means that I want to remember this moment in my life and how I felt. It's not nostalgia exactly, not sympathy either. It's just a deep resonant feeling, repeating and repeating, but slowly fading away now.
Maybe I don't want time to slip past me. I'm turning 18, and soon I'll be 19, 20, 30, 40 and before I know it, I'll be lying on my deathbed, hopefully looking upon faces that are familiar to this 17 year-old me, and ones that I haven't met yet, and some that don't even exist yet.
Recently, I showed this blog to a friend, and jokingly said that I should join Writer's Circle (the writing CCA in our school). Now that I think of it, I really do like writing, but I don't think I'd be happy if I had to write on a deadline. Y'know, I just want to write when I have something to say.
I'm kinda going around in circles now anyway, so I'd like to write this short paragraph to a person I admire, but I feel it'd be too awkward/strange to send it to them. Here goes:
You know how in interviews for leadership positions, they sometimes ask "So why do you want this position? Do you need this position to lead?" and my (and probably every normal person's) answer would be something like "No, but it'll definitely help me lead better because reasons."? Well, to me, you're the very personification of the question. You're a leader, with or without a position, and you have this quiet influence that is really comforting and amazing. I look up to you, and even though I've only recently got to know you a bit better, you've become quite an inspiration to me. You're a good person, and there are so few people that have made me think this way about them, so yeah, I'm not saying it lightly. You deserve the best life, and I pray that nothing ever brings you down.
That kinda got me thinking. A leadership position is kinda to acknowledge that yes indeed you've done a lot for this, and may be a form of encouragement to reward people for contributing more? I'm just writing out what I'm thinking, but those thoughts are quite raw and unanalysed, so sorry if it's not correct.
I have more things to say, but I think I'll stop here. I've rambled on enough. One last thing though... I might not understand this after some time, but for now:
I really hope it's not like that _______ ___ ___ __ ___. Please ____ __ ________.
Sayonara.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)