i had planned for myself a rather calm day today. shopping with an unexpectedly stubborn person ("let's do it the girl way") and the usual starbucks trip with buddies.

but oh no.

to cap(!) it all off, we had to watch a flick. and since the squinting-at-subtitles french movie wasn't out yet, and i kinda only like jim carrey slapstick, we did not watch that no paddle seth green thing or hurrah shark tale.

saw was a fabbity fab fab flick that was freaky-deaky sick twisted morbid psychotic unexpected and really, just OMF. on the "WHOA Scale", i would rate it 5 times better than the 6th Sense; which comparatively is absolutely tame when taking all the gore into consideration.

gore izyanti?, you ask, but i thought you usually don't like all that fake blood.

well yes i still don't like it when its senseless. it gets tiring when blood is splattered and spewed over and over again with the same old usual boring cheesy tacky male-driven gun fight. can i say, yawn? it's redundant, unneccesary and on the whole just sensationalism to get the testosterone driven to buy over-priced tickets, and over-priced poofed corn kernals and an over-priced tank of soda that will corrode your innards.

but this movie however, the gore i thought complemented the flick. it wasn't just a marketing tool or a way to spend millions of dollars in movie production. it was carefully calculated to heighten the terror felt as the plot twists turns and entangles until you feel like you're going to die.

which is why, in a sick way and i honestly never thought i would hear myself saying this, i actually appreciated the gore. it was not silly, nor excessive - it was part of the story-telling. it did freak me out, and i will probably have a few shadows of it in my dreams to come but well, it's also really handle-ble. c'mon it's OUR censorship board!

sadly, i have this tendency to overlook the director but this flick was really a notable one. the pace and tension was built up with such precision, that it kinda just grabs you and holds you and you don't even realize that you're actually in a very near semblance to terror or at the least, intense fear.and the level of confusion that the director managed to maintain was just right so that it didn't become predictable or 'uh, whaaaat?' - just enough so that when added to the fear, it became this heady potent mix that made the adrenaline feel so much more colder. i could taste mine.

the plot is so layered, it's like jennifer aniston's old hair cut oh haha.

but most of all, i like the way the uber intense plot handles the voyeurism theme so effingly well. it goes beyond the first or secondary character, it's in the minor characters as well which i realized while i was delving through the scenes on the bus trip home. its honestly a wonderfully wriiten, VERY original screenplay.

so go on, watch it. i don't say this often, but it was worth my $8.50.












(whaaaat, that's half a cd you know!)

i realized today that in moments of tension anxiety and mild unsettlement, my face becomes contorted into that patented 'constipated rupert grint as Ron Weasley look'.





















hmm.

something i want more than the Zen micro, something that i will want forever and ever and ever and ever and ever:

i want to be brilliant.





it would be wonderful i think, to be that enthrallingly intelligent. and not for the reason that mugging would automatically become redundant, but for the simple reason that when you're brilliant, everything is more or less easier. you can do anything at all, the world is at your feet. and if you're not the world-domination sort, it is at the least you're very own stage. to be that uber talented in that one thing that you adore, nothing else would matter even if you were damn fugly.

the exception to this of course, would be to be unloved. that possibly is much much worse than being un-brilliant.

the beauty of brilliance is success, and by this, i do not mean sheer monetary or career success. what i want is the ease and assurance that whatever you do does not suck. although thinking about it now, being brilliant does not mean a lack of self-conscious perfectionism. i want to be brilliant because then i will never have to worry about sounding stupid as i am wont to do, or producing works that at first i find pretty decent then in retrospect, find that it belongs in the damned grime of the trash.

for example, i read through one of the prose pieces i did, furiously editted and re-printed it out. i then took the old copy, stuck my gum in it and is now awaiting trash removal. i hate the way that in the end, i always hate what i have done. and really, hate is NOT too strong a word to describe this.

what makes this want for brilliance worse is being surrounded by the brilliant. i suppose 'surrounded' would be an exaggeration (whaaaaat? don't kill me!), but it is enough to have a few friends or acquaintences (i can't even spell this!) who are truly of above-average intelligence. It is enough for me to make sufficient comparison and thereby making a conclusion that i could never be like them. i do not think brilliance is something that can be acquired really, you either have it or you don't. talent is another thing of course, likewise maturity and insight that is gained through normal living. this would mean then, that brilliance is absolutely unattainable and therefore, I MUST HAVE IT. oh haha.

i suppose i am just being wistful.

i am worried by my need to seek approval.

think happy thoughts think happy thoughts think happy thoughts think happy thoughts think happy thoughts think happy thoughts think happy thoughts think happy thoughts think happy thoughts

can't fly without the fairy dust. ho hum pig's bum i feel a spurtt of incoherence coming on, i should run off before this incoherence is converted into a tangible form. ah too late. i want to write, i really do but every time i try i can't. the first block is the habit i have of dismissing a lot of ideas because i think their immature or cliched. the second one that i face is more scary.

it is like the principal compared to someone who actually makes sense like ms tay. the principal yabbers on and on and really you've heard it before and you wish you could throw it into those old rubber boots that always surface on bad fishing days, but you can't because unfortunately what she says applies to life. so you nod and hmm and aah just to pass the time, because this phase does not matter much since it is expected and well, more dismiss-able.

the second roadblock is the scarier one because what is being said actually makes sense. and you can see no way out of it, because it is all True. there is no loophole to wiggle your way through! and this block is the mere fact that i have no experience. i have not lived nor seen the world, not really. what have i been doing this past few years?

child, daughter, student and teenager.

which honestly, is not much. and you know, you write what you know. and when you don't know much, well that's a very small box i'm stuck in! how exactly am i supposed to venture out of the genres when i know nuts? and i do not think i could write a discourse on the merits of pistachios instead of walnuts and macadamia nuts and why chestnuts are not nuts, they are CORMS.

a solution would be to write fantasy, but i am very horrid with plotlines, and so it would most probably result in a one-track page filler. which i suppose is a start. except that I don't take fantasy seriously. it's a good example of fiction i agree, but i find it difficult to put it under literature. i do not know why, i just find realistic prose resonates more for me. it could also be why i really like B&W photos more than coloured ones.

and you know, i don't actually mind speaking malay. i just hate speaking it in the company of people who know how rare such a moment is. because it makes me uncomfortable when it is pointed out, and when it brings laughter even when i know its friendly. ah yes, i know why. i hate having this weakness being pointed out. because god knows i hate being seen as weak.

which brings to mind this cassandra claire Dravo Veritas quote:
"i can't use sex to get what i want, sex is what i want!"

oops wrong one.

mmkay, found it; ginny says this to him
"You despise weakness, and that means you're capable of real cruelty towards the helpless, and you despise your own weakness most of all"

which i find true of me as well, cassandra claire has managed to articulate why i loathe some people with such a vengeance. oh bravo! this is why i love her dearly.

past few days have been fun. two very very fruitful shopping trips to town.

items bought

• a really nice viridian green kint top.
• this oh so funkay bangle.
• does my spongebob tee count?
• a very very nice sky/grass print zipped bag thing
• mystery gift for someone (i)
• mystery gift for someone (ii)
• canvas-es for painting!
• ribbon and lace from spotlight for this-and-that
• brother's birthday present.
• photo album for myself (plain black cloth bound!)
• 2005 calendar organizer.

hmm. a uncomfortably long list.

more things that i have to get

• mystery gift for someone (iii)
• mystery gift for someone (iv)
• smaller mystery x'mas tokens for close buddies (vi)
• bits and pieces to complete above-mentioned mystery gifts.
• good black pinstripe pants.
• a funkay tote bag.
• a hair cut.
• The Creative Zen Micro.

i however do take comfort in the fact that at least i'm not buying things ALL for myself. but anyway, PLEASE fund my chronic shopping spree-ing, i do not think my NETS card can take it any longer, even though considering i had deposited all current Hari Raya Funds inside said bank account. oh no, i cannot afford this lifestyle. and maybe it'snot so bad because even though i buy a lot (for me anyway), i reaaaally try not to get overly expensive stuff.

i was at funan today with gennie, and we ran into a model of the Zen Micro. of course, i have already wanted it since it first came out. but holding it in my palm (yes, only my palm), it fit so beautifully and perfectly that i think i was actually experiencing momentary lust for that beautiful thing. granted design-wise, it is not quite as gorgeous as the iPod, but then again i am getting sick of the latter's persistent advertizing and now rather annoying VERY simple capabilities. and now i am reading online reviews of the Zen Micro, and it is generally..how do you say? WONDERFUL. in fact, they rate it better than the iPod Mini! *swoons* http://www6.head-fi.org/forums/showthread.php?t=93151

I MUST HAVE IT.

cue momentary (hopefully) period of angst:

a few weeks ago, i was sure what i wanted to do, my plans post-Os and post-secondary school were cemented in concrete. haha kill me somebody. i suppose this only confirms it once again that concrete is not that permanent after all.

then i put aside the ? that ended everything by telling myself that it doesnt matter, we shall get through the Os first, and then we'll settle it. except now, it IS after the Os - and in a few days i'll need to have made my decision and pray that it's not a mistake. it worries me the most, making a mistake. and my plans for this-and-that after the Os feel strange because suddenly, I HAVE A LOT OF TIME. i can do what i want, and this sudden onslaught of 'freedom' is just strange. it thrilled me yesterday, realizing that i could go out the next day, and the next, and the next, and the next. but now it just daunts me, because i am not having a schedule of mugging and school-based activities imposed on me.

for the first time, i can actually do what i want (well, kinda. but enough).

oh and i ran into kass today in town! so, is the mrt busking thingamajig still on? ho hum, pig's bum. ENTERTAIN ME so i won't have to think. oh wow the moon looks positively creepy tonight. the partially clud covered, eerily yellow-orange glowing kind from B-grade horror flicks.

i will not allow myself to devolve into a non-active blob of a thing during the holidays.

yes this is all i have to say about the OVER-NESS OF MY O LEVELS.

ugh the people at tag-board are all doofi. its down, yet again. i think someone must have spilled coffee over their server. or maybe donut crumb got into the machine and did funny electrical things that messed everything up. or maybe a wild orgy was held the night before and in all the heaving and um, squirming, someone knocked a very Important Wire loose.

oh i don't know. but it is very annoying, am almost tempted to get it changed. fortunately for the blokes at tag-board, my chemistry exam starts in a few hours, so i really should not be here. and, i have a general tummy ache and its not a good situation to go twiddling around with html code.

why do i have a tummy ache? this does not make any sense, i did not eat any dairy products -wait, there was that slice of cheese, but that's usually quite okay. and i was having quite a healthy diet yesterday ow ow okay i IREALLY have to go shit there, much better. so anyway! what i ate yesterday included very little of those yummy red chips that i usually gorge on and LOTS of raisins. raisins, i tell you! its the snack that all health books talk about, the snack that mother's tell their blonde blue-eyed children to eat in prettily illustrated kiddie books.

i do not understand the workings of my bowel system. other than the fact that it may be more temperemental than me im woken up half way from a muchly needed nap, hungry and the person who woke me up is my very annoying brother.

i am picky about the raisins i eat. yesterday, i found a bit of raisin-fied leaf in the box, in addition to all the disturbingly dark and rottish looking raisins. they are small, discoloured and squishier than usual and i REFUSE to eat them. so i only eat those that are a nice unblemished yellow or golden. its just that the spotty ones look really..unedible.

this idiosyncratic behaviour got me thinking about all the other weird habits that we have. like when i iron my uniform, i strictly strictly iron the collar first, then the sleeves, the shoulder bits, then the left front panel, back, and then finally the right front panel. i do not know why. same for the way i get dressed. always bottoms first, and any other way just seems weird. which is why i was left disturbed watching my sister dress for school. she, like everybody normal, put on her blouse first - it was the pinafore bit that was strange. she put it on from the bottom, and who does that? not only is it weird, but it is also against logic because well, the blouse will get crumpled under the pinafore, which is uncomfy.

maybe it's because she's a lefty.

in accordance to my theory that fungus, fungi and doofus, doofi - is anus, ani? sounds even too strange for me. and i can't think of any other -us words, such is the limit of my sad brain.

I can't sleep tonight
Everybody saying everything's alright
Still I can't close my eyes
I'm seeing a tunnel at the end of all these lights
Sunny days
Where have you gone?
I get the strangest feeling you belong

Why does it always rain on me?
Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?
Why does it always rain on me?
Even when the sun is shining
I can't avoid the lightning

I can't stand myself
I'm being held up by invisible men
Still life on a shelf whenI got my mind on something else

Sunny days
Where have you gone?
I get the strangest feeling you belong

Why does it always rain on me?
Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?
Why does it always rain on me?
Even when the sun is shining
I can't avoid the lightning

Oh, where did the blue skies go?
And why is it raining so?
It's so cold
I can't sleep tonight

Everybody saying everything's alright
Still I can't close my eyes
I'm seeing a tunnel at the end of all these lights
Sunny days
Where have you gone?
I get the strangest feeling you belong

Why does it always rain on me?
Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?
Why does it always rain on me?
Even when the sun is shining
I can't avoid the lightning

Oh, where did the blue skies go?
And why is it raining so?
It's so cold
Why does it always rain on me?

- Travis.

i have always loved this song, although its very embarassing to admit that i only realized it's by travis while scouring through limewire. its one of those songs that automatically come to mind when you're wondering around alone, it's plaintive tune fitting those moods when you're just simply taking an observatory role in the world.

yes, my limewire is back up and running. i am happy, because i have a chock load of new songs. which i swear, is the reason why i'm online so often, i'm listening to all the sparkling brand-new songs. why not burn them into a cd, you ask. well, because among the songs, i'm sure some of them suck or are damaged, and its such a waste to burn a spoiler into a cd. i'm not as neurotic as charmaine in this area, but it does leave me considerably annoyed. feed my music junkie; send me songs when you see me online!

sometimes i fear that i have not been taking my O's seriously enough. which admittedly, is quite a belated admission, since mine ends in a day or so. i feel quite calm about it, and no..passion in mugging. i see people adrenaline-charged in their mugging spree, powered by panic. and me, there simply is no panic. but this is not to say im nonchalent.

i'm taking it as if it's just another exam but it's not, is it?

Things to Do After the O's

• movie marathons
• beach picnic at sentosa
• plan class chalet
• take up pottery classes
• AsiaMediaFestival
• work on writing/art portfolio
• shopping in 'town'
• shopping not in 'town'
• madCAP outing
• gallery thing with gennie (come with us!)

i think i am just bored.

ENTERTAIN ME.

even having a crush doesn't keep me amoosed anymore, because i know myself so well so i know exactly how it will turn out. musings and imaginary conversations get tiring because between the happy daze is the simple and bare truth that it will never happen because i will never do anything.

and i would rather risk death by boredom than tell.

on another note, is it possible to feel tired by a friendship? it gets..difficult, because of the constant effort to accomodate each other. because both try so hard to keep it going despite everything and the constant non-contact. i am not used to working at something, friendships have always been spontaneous. i have fun with those who are there, and those who aren't - i usually accept it and let it go. except in this case, of course it can't be just let go. it would be ridiculous to. but it has come to a point that we both hardly know anything about each other's current going-ons, and i feel the strong inclination to point a very angry finger at the bloody exams. IT IS ALL YOUR FAULT THAT THIS FRIENDSHIP IS WITHERING AWAY. and what makes this situation even worse is that friends who are not as close, now know more about me than said friend. which goes against logic, although it is logical.

it is an un-fun situation. i hate socially difficult moments, and i think its safe to say that this is a long drawn out one.

hello all. i shall amaze you lot with the extent of my scattered brain as succintly proved by today's art exam.

half an hour into the exam, i looked at the clock and swiftly decided all right, i shall start the painting now and looked calmly around my desk for my paint set. peering under the debrus consisting of numerous sheets of A3 paper and other art junk, i realized with equal calmness that said paint box is not with me. how strange, i muttered and proceeded to raise my hand. with a very apologetic smile, i told the invigilator that i think i left it in my bag, may i please go get it?

and so i did.

the bag was opened, and all i saw was the usual bag detritus; loose papers, the occasional pen cap, sweet wrappers and biscuit crumbs. and no paint. by this time, i had of course lost all coherent thought. flashing red lights that morse coded PANIC.

considering that what i was doing consisted largely of acrylic, and that i had only a measly set of colour pencils (which i hate), it was a very very very very bad situation. this i'm telling you, karmic retribution. i'm not sure what i did wrong, but it must have been something bad! how incredibly doofus-y can you get?? i brought everything, especially all the inane and unneccesary stuff like said loathed colour pencils and tracing paper BUT I FORGOT TO BRING THE PAINT. i had actually stopped halfway down the stairs from the car park to re-check whether i had brought the SINGLE bottle of matte black poster paint, but i forgot to bring the entire BOX of paints.

d'oh!

but i suppose i have not been that eville, because i managed to convince the invigilator to scurry down to my art teacher to get me a box from the art room. seriously, that was too close a call for my liking.

i might be turning into angeline wong.

also, i realize with much regret that i should have bothered to study for only less than 2 hours (and not even that because most of the time was spent giggling chortling hysterically laughing - but more on that anon) for social studies because HEY I DID WELL FOR HISTORY TODAY. although i have to specify that here we're talking about my standard of 'well' which by ordinary and expected standards, is not actually 'well' at all. in fact, it is quite ill.

wait - i have to stab myself in the eye for that last line.

and nadalala (yes nadya huang yanyan of 406) kissed the Principal today. a historic and um, frightful event indeed. mark it down in all your calanders, kiddies! hopefully, this event shall remain a thing of the past, and will not occur in the unforeseen future. i fear that her lips might be severely damaged by the scrubbing with industrial handsoap detergent (euchy stuff!) that ensued afterwards. but then again, damaged lips could keep her quiet. is it worth it, do you think?

according to charmaine lee yun hua, when i blush, it starts with my nose before spreading to my cheeks, other facial regions before finally conquering my ears. O what i would do to be a delicate blushing english rose - but no, i am more of rudolf the red-nosed reindeer. tis very sad, and more importantly, very ugly. even more disturbingly, why do i have reindeer DNA? such are the things that will keep me awake tonight.

events that are described in the following may not be very accurate due to dilute emotions of euphoria that enveloped the writer. think of her poor brain addled by endorphins: for a moment in the library today, i think someone might have figured it out. it is a hunch, but a scary one - like the hunchback of Notre Dame's deformity. i do not think i shall elaborate, because the the little details that i have are already very fuzzy. But the point here is, i think if anyone finds out, i will
a) be mortified at my ineffective disguise of affection. the thought of me being unknowingly obvious is the peak of utter embarrassment.
b) and from such onslaught of severe emotions, i shall die.

i am hyperventilating.

few things get me into this state, and it usually involves an overwhelming onslaught of emotions. and she has managed to do so, once again, better than ever. i don't quite know how she does it, but she does every single time, and this hit is the worst yet.

CASSANDRA CLAIRE, I LOVE YOU!

how i adore thee so, love's night is noon! thank you for draco thank you thank you thank you. DV 15 is out! it could very well be my unstable hormones, but this half-chapter is possibly the most heart-wrenching yet. i could ramble on and on, but i think a single word would suffice

beautiful.

Has been a long time since I blogged. Which is already a surprise – what makes it a bigger shocker is the fact that it’s not as if I have not been online. I have, unfortunately, numerous times. Several times a day, at times! The point is, I have nothing that I want to blog about.

I hope this does not mean a dry spell induced by the 0’s.

The funny thing is, there is of course a LOT to write about. The whole examination process, for example. Lots and lots of stress and drama there. It is just that after blog-hopping, I start feeling whatever I have to say will either be
- redundant/pointless/waste of space
- verily incoherent, lacking eloquence and basically, sounding very immature compared to the better blogs out there.

Which is why I refuse to comment on the american elections.

But anyway, its making me wonder, what exactly is the point of me blogging? Though I am thankfully, not a complete waste of space like the blogs that painfully go over inane details of their day, mine is nothing particularly outstanding either. Its presence means nothing, its absence would mean nothing either. To be honest, I am starting to feel very silly when blogging. I suppose it is rather presumptuous to think that people actually are interested with what I have to stay. I could stop, I don’t feel the urge to blog anymore (read: novelty has faded). Currently, there is nothing in my life that is particularly interesting and I would rather stab myself in the eye than spill details of too often moments of angst.

I might have out-grown my blog.

This has nothing to do with the privacy issue, of feeling your blog isn’t what it used to be because of the guaranteed readership. Even if I were to start a anonymous and private blog, it would serve no purpose because the main point being ranted here is..what?

Ah yes. I am not sure why I blog.

If it could be more prolific as a 'writer', I suppose that would be a purpose. If I could produce mature in-depth witty scathing commentary on the world around us, I suppose that would be serve as a purpse too. So once again, mediocrity has become the issue of the day.