a most definitely absolutely very rather quite long wait
and wait and wait and wait and wait and wait and wait and wait
and wait and wait fear and wait and wait and wait anxiety and wait and stop.

one,
two,
three more

days!too soon.

a product of today's lecture on free verse. i rambled another one as well, but it's circular SO.

waaah am hungry.

sometimes i wonder whether im over-doing it. but then i think, there's no harm in it i suppose other than the fact that i will be disappointed quite a number of times - but that should be all right. at least, i think so. what i am trying to do is to cram in all that i missed out on in secondary school in these two years of jc.

hah i say that as if i KNOW i'm staying in jc. it's a toughie contemplating or approximating what's going to happen come monday.

i have no idea.

okay i can see this entry is absolutely going nowhere, so i shall shut up now.

i have avowed to be a Nice Person for the next few days in an effort to garner Good Karma, seeing that our Os results are coming reaaaaaaaaaally soon. i can see however, that i will not be able to keep to this and that this entry will most definitely break it. *sigh* it's not my fault really, its the existence of (insert insulting term here) people!

you see, i was reading the newspaper today and there was this really annoying letter sent in by somebody in the forum, whining about how "free mass displays of art should stop until Singaporeans know how to appreciate them".

he was whining about how such exhibitions are prone to vandalism but come on! the artist is placing his work in public, and risks like vandalism must be and have already been taken into account anyway. it's idiotically idealistic to be so outraged at vandalism - it happens. and instead of taking it so negatively and "oh nobody understands us artists, woe is me!" (he's an art and design student), we can/should(?) take it as society interacting with art. art after all, is about the public reacting to your work and if vandalism is their reaction..well.

i can agree that singaporeans are not all artistically aware such that they always have a profound appreciation for art, and that there is a general mass of plebians in our society who think art is just indulgent fluff (which admittedly, it sometimes is). but what, since when was vandalism unique to Uniquely Singapore? I don’t have concrete evidence either, but I’m assuming that there is hardly a place in the world where public works of art are not subjected to some degree of vandalism. again, IT HAPPENS. the society we live in isn’t perfect, and it just annoys me when people criticize singaporean society as if it’s a perfect utopia out there and we live in a barbaric state.

and for an ART student to assume perfection as the default for society, I cannot help but think how stupidly narrow his mindset and thinking must be.

this is not to say I would not be unhappy if MY own work was vandalized. if I had put it up, willingly, at the risks that the public poses, of course I would be upset but I would also accept it. it’s silly to do otherwise! it’s like, walking down a Taliban afghanistan in a bikini as a political statement, and then to get upset when they stone you to death. if it was put up AGAINST my permission *coughschoolexhibitscough*, then duh I would be thoroughly pissed.

if you want your work to be safe, then keep it at home swathed in layers and layers of cotton! don't show it to the world because hey the world is a daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaangerous place, didn't you hear?

i've always been puzzled by the way statues are always made off limits to wandering hands by lurking security guards. i suppose it's because i'm a very tactile person but my point is that the fact that it is a three dimensional work should mean that it ought to be experienced three dimensionally as well! to see is one thing, but to touch is an entirely different plane of experience. especially for sculptures, the textures and contours unfelt because we're not allowed to, what a waste!

to have it invisibly cordoned off seems to me as if they want the piece of art to be isolated from society, untouchable. literally, to be put on a pedestal. which doesn't make sense - because isn't art suppose to reflect society, it's a PART of society. there should be an interaction between the two, so when this statue -a reflection of life as the artist knows it- is placed out of bounds, it's unfair. if the artist was allowed to use society as material for his art, it seems imbalanced that we are not allowed to have it in OUR own sphere of living.

but you get my point, don’t you?

you know what? i just realized how much i miss buffy the vampire slayer.

to be more specific, the relantionship dynamics between buffy and spike. *squee james marsters awesome* but then again, how can we not take into account willow turning Evil, and why. and xander, the poor guy. i always felt he's been short-changed somehow, it's the story of his life. buffy has always annoyed me though; it's always been about the people revolving around her for me.

in it's own way, the later seasons were beautiful. depthful and thought-provoking, wonderfully complex with yes, literary undertones. which is why when i turn bloody rich and my dad finally decides to purvey a DVD player, i'm getting the..last three seasons of BTVS. just enough without bloody friggin angel. as spike would say, tall dark and forehead - the bloody git.

i love the show.

watching it, it could just move me so much. yes, it is very angsty in a sense, but not well *cough* ala the OC or horror of horrors, Charmed. and no, i do not hide my disdain for the latter. only buffy fans will understand *shakes head sadly*

spike was a wonderful character (and yes, it helped that hurhur he's hot), but his prior inner turmoil of being good/eville, and later on, the horror in which he realizes that yes, he looooves buffy and of course, the absolutely perverse way in which he goes about doing it. he's at the same time, a gentleman and well, spike. and the way and times buffy hurts him! ah that eville biyatch. no i can never forgive her for doing that to him; his complete devotion and the paaaaain that he goes through for her. it makes my heart cry.

ah. the ramblings of a fangirl suffering from withdrawal symptoms.

listening to john mayer's Neon, tis groovy indeed. whee free music provided by daryl, thanks.

you know, i had a good old mugging session planned for myself at the library today after school and i was actually off to a good start. the jeanie popped over and we started yabbering like old times =) and i told myself, "nemind, i'll just talk to her for the hour that she's here then i can continue mugging". then nadya popped over as well.

*sigh*

gossip gossip.

when jeanie left, i managed to get some mugging done because well, i've known nadya for like, for-evaaaaah and i'm so sick of her. kidding! *hugs* she was still playing with her blu-tacl - how typical of her to be absolutely fascinated by the completely inane! but yes, i suppose that is how her *cough* mind works. anyhoo, she left to take a purchasing tour of the canteen, and when she came back, she dragged along yes, desmond.

augh! and there goes another bout of gossiping. you know, kinda like bp reunion of sorts (HAH! three people.) it was fuuuuun, strange how thegrapevine continues functioning despite being away from the vineyard itself. i suppose that is the extent of it's tendrils.

okay okay stupid analogy i know! i'll shut up now

so desmond learnt something new today snerk! i learnt something new today! something that i will not air on this blog, but aini gennie come talk to me! hurhur. also, we know that someone(s) thinks someone else is the Hotness.

hyok. ah. the shallow giddy fun of such gossiping.

but you know, me. i'm blind-sided by my own object of infatuation. oh oh of which the gossiping session also yielded a nugget of happy hope! he noticed when i am un-there! bear with me, and the little inane things that entertain me.

oh no. i'm just like nadya.

THE HORROR, THE HORROR!

then me and nad (grammatically incorrect i know, but sounds more normal ya?) took the 985 and trooped down to our old home base: LOT 1!! was sorely disappointed cuz my cheap+good black ink pens are gone. if anybody sees mon ami black gel ink pens that cost a mere yes, $0.65, please grab a few for me! i will love you with all my heart. i think it's my surfing of the crimson tide, but waaaah. we popped over to nyiaaargh that teenybopper place, more than words, and went nutty over of all things

stickers!

you know, the puffy cute ones. but really, i fell in looove with them. so cheap, and i can't help but use this adjective once again, cute. i got um chocolatey ones, duckey ones and WHEE cluddy ones! the thing is, i don't usually go for kawaai-cute things like these. and yet today. wah. must be the hormones! either that, or truly my brain is rotting away...from?

happy i am. also, blythe badges.

a very very very fun valentine's at cjc! chocolates candy and cheeriness galore; oh we felt so loved what with the massive exchange of personalized "i heart (insert name here)" stickers - tangible evidence of friendship and luh-urve! what more could i want?

yes.





























*sigh*

i suppose It went relatively well. we shall have to see of course; and i thought 40 minutes was long, pbbbbbt! but do not worry faithful readers! i am not all melancholic like a certain clud, or love-lorn and dying *melodrama!* from a broken heart. i am finey-fine, and re-assure myself that in uh, 20 years time i shall look back and laugh. LAUGH with much glee and giddy euphoria. hopefully, at that point of time, i will not be clothed in a straitjacket yes thankyouverymuch.

but he is lah. why i am such a sucker for pretty faces i do not know; what i do not even know more is why i am such a sucker especially for his!

go figure.

but warily, i advise you not to give me something of a freudian nature because bless that german doode, his theories are rather perturbing and not something i want to consider hmm.

augh frock-shit.

i don't have my malay dictionary with me, and i have homework that needs it, due monday. and a teacher who wields a hefty threat of detention till 2200, and i actually think she will pull it off because
a) they have night study for the jc2s so it's logistically possible.
b) yes, she can be that big a meanie.

*sigh*

what i would do to get back my malay slackery days in secondary school. but still, one more year. a single year. i think i shall be able to survive that, somehow. things are not too bad - i'm still rather abysmally incompetent (at least, i think i am) but fortunately, that doesn't seem to matter much in cj. everybody sucks. so yes, no aini/rafidah (basically anyone who's actually REALLY good in malay) to feel sucky with.

see? a bloody silver lining behind every clud.

speaking of cluds, i have embarked on a new writing adventure! honestly, i think it's so cute it kills me. a children's story, with illustrations to boot; and whimsical a prose/poetry hybrid to tell the the tale of a lonely clud. i haven't had this much fun since...i can remember, writing-wise. it's fleshing out quite nicely (33 little panels and counting), and is getting to be much longer than i expected.

how very thrilling!

its squee luhvly when stories and plotlines just develop on their on, you can actually see the evolution process - it still makes me giddy(?) when i write this way. to hell with plot outlines! although, i'm currently a little stuck but not to worry! will be meeting up with charmaine and matthew for lunch, who will feed me with fodder to continue this indulgence.

i suppose this is why, before everything else, i'll always be a prose-ish writer. followed by, uh, art student + wannabe sometimes thespian + never-poet. i cannot wait for jc CAP, and will die if i don't get in. a possibility that my enthusiasm does not want to consider.

in commemoration of the coming Valentine's day (and yes, i know tis early):

An Original Poem in Latin and Five Translations.

Odi et amo. Quare id faciam, fortasse requiris.
Nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.
- Catallus (circs 85-55 B.C)

I love and hate, Ah! Never ask why so!
I hate and love. . . . and that is all I know.
I see ‘tis folly, but I feel ‘tis woe.
- Walter Savage Landor (1775-1864)

I hate and love. Why? You may ask but
It beats me. I feel it done to me and ache.
- Ezra Pound (1885-1972)

O th’hate I move love. Quarry it fact I am, for that’s so re
queries.
Nescience, say th’fiery scent I owe whets crookeder.
- Celia & Louis Zukofsky (1904-1978)

I hate & love. And if you should ask how I can do both,
I couldn’t say; but I feel it, and it shivers me.
- Charles Martin (b. 1942)

I hate and love. Ignorant fish, who even
Wants the fly while writhing.
- Frank Bidart (b. 1939)

something i remembered i had stowed away in the corners of my computer. this is what musing on love with a friend online will do to you.

personally, i like the ezra pound the best.

that is all i have to say today. meanwhile, curling under my rock, i shall ponder and muse how i will pull of the stunt that i am planning. if you do not hear of me by monday evening, you will know that i would have decided to permanently make that rock my primary residence.

huh.

self-censorship. i don't think i've found myself doing this, at least, not consciously. so not to worry, i'm NOT being PAP-ized! it's just a niggling undercurrent whenever i start blogging or am thinking about blogging. but then again, maybe its an excuse i use to make up for my lack of entries and therefore, lack of material to be blogged about, so THERE. hurhur.

i don't know (do we ever?). and i don't think i would ever want to start up a private blog.

cue: paradox.

on the basis of principles, i think starting a private blog in co-existence with a public one isn't being very honest to your "audience" and is already a form of self-censorship. you're already segregating what you say into private and public categorizations, and i don't think that's very different from publicizing some opinions, and keeping the rest silent by not saying it out loud.

also, i think having an audience so to speak forces us to grow up. i would imagine that if i allow myself to come up with a private blog that has no readership of the people i know, i would literally lose control and rant and rant and rant with much prejudice, angst and lack of thought. because when "nobody" reads it, you don't have to worry about being fair or remotely intelligent. do you really need proof? all i have to do to convince myself how things will turn out private-blogging would be to find one of my old diaries, read it and try not to die cringing. so even though this means scurrying away the facet of immaturity etc and therefore not being true to yourself, maybe this is a good thing after all. a blog doesn't necessarily have to mean you become an open book. the question is, do i really want other people to be able to confirm what an immature arse i am?

of course not. i will be an enigma! i'm going to keep you buggers guessing moohar.

also. the attention loving slut that i (sometimes) am, thrives on readership. *shakes head sadly* and for a moment, you guys thought i had achieved inner zen and enlightenment, and i just HAD to ruin it with the above statement.

ah well. enough bush-beating about self-censorship, moooooooving on!

my cough is slowly killing my brain. eveytime i launch into a coughing spasm, my brain feels like it's bouncing off against my skull and oh dear gawd can you imagine hpw many neurones may be dying at this rate?! the horror the horror. on a happier note, my medication is a full force sleep-inducing concoction! according to mother dearest, the cough syrup that i'm taking is actually a morphone derivative - which explains the wonderfully woozy light-headiness i felt before falling into a 6 hour nap.

morphine. cool.

i have learnt however, that a scoop of mango sorbet, a square of cadbury dairy milk chocolate, a few ikan bilis, a handful of yummalicious raisins, and a canned longan indeed, does make a difference. ask my raw throat and aching stomach (from the surpressed coughing fits). Lesson: LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHE, but also realzie that you will not when faced with uh, tempting treats and that therefore, you will suffer anyway.

sighy-sigh. V-day next monday. and yes i want to do something non-platonic this year, but knowing my aversion towards emotionally traumatizing/humiliating situations, i most likely won't be doing anything. if you're reading this, 'guy-on-the-bus', dammit, i lalalalalala-ike you! and i have no idea why either, so poo.

yes. i was planning to sms everybody a Happy Chinese New Year!! this morning, but because i woke up at 1625 all woozy, i uhh forgot. so here it is: happy chinese new year to:
- the convalently bonded clique!
- 1t11
- 1to1
- random cjc-ers
- random blog readers

i love you all, like omg i can't believe i won! i'd like to thank my mother, my father, my parents, the people who failed and therefore, allowed me to win, my Eville Minions -

oops. wrong speech.

okay.

i am going to be the how many-th blogger to examine the issues of privacy and self-censorship when it comes to what we do, blogging. a warning, it will be very brief and not thorough, as all my recent *sighs* posts have been, because like everyone else, i am tired.

good ole hazri has blogged a considerably lengthy post on exactly what has been troubling me this past few weeks. blogging, it IS dangerous. and our fears are not unfounded, and they ARE NOT PARANOID. i know it just reeks of irony when we panic over who exactly might be reading our blogs because of free-linking, since we have willingly exposed it to the internet.

the thing is, privacy and the degree of exposure is all an abstract concept and we don't really feel the invasion of privacy (self-caused, i know)until something happens and it really WHAMS home. suddenly, we realize that we have not control over what we write anymore, because we cannot control who reads it! the creator, is left with no control - and yes, this is really scary.

some things i write here, I DON'T WANT CERTAIN PEOPLE TO KNOW. and oh gawd, it's really pointless creating a disclaimer! it's like when people say, "i don't mean to be rude/critical/bitchy but -" and go ahead and be it anyway. it just doesn't work. the only way(s)out, is to either not give a flying shit (and this is quite difficult unless you're emotionally autistic) or well, yes here is the dreaded word: self-censorship.

and what is the point of a blog when there is a self-censorhip.

notice that the above is NOT a question, but a statement. so. if this blog suddenly turns silent -and i really hope it doesn't-, you know why. i shall be joining the growing ranks of bloggers who just quietly fade away into increased anonymity.

i have something to say.


































i am zonked.

we are zonked.


















*dies*

all right all right, i'm forcing myself to blog here. the reason for my sudden lack of entries? i don't know, i'm starting to feel stupid blogging, with the assumption that people are actually interested in what this 16-going-on-17 wants to say. like, omg why do you care?!

really.

and yet, here i am. the truth is, i'm having a lot of fun in jc. the class just ISN'T 406 (can anything ever be?), but that notwithstanding, i am having a good time. i'm doing fairly well in class, the teachers don't think i'm a delinquent(!) and i'm sooper-sooper enthusiastic in all my CCAs.

i really do want to take over the school *eville laugh* such is the extent of my ambition. yes, i do realize it is rather impractical but you know i have an affinity towards hyperboles! i'm having fun meeting new people, some i like, some i don't. some with whom i can see the potential of the beginnings of a Wondrous friendship (fellow aries!), and some one to fix my hurhur devotions upon. i suppose this is what 'living life to it's fullest' means, and wow it feels great.

things aren't all fluffy and whee-ing of course. there's a lot of work, and i'm currently procrastinating, and there are moments of uncertainty and strain. but somehow, in my Moment of IntenseOptimism, i'm looking at it in such a way that the dark bits will make the uh brighter bits well. brighter.

oh dear gawd i male myself sick with all this talk of optimism and happiness. the next think you know, a furry pink bunny will jump out of the screen as you read this:

BOO!

_____________________________

HAH. the above was written 2 days ago.

i have since been ripped out of 1t11, abducted by a rather nice alien and plunked into 1t01. i suppose all is finey-fine, and i cannot count how many times i have said, 'yeah the class is nice. their really making an effort to make me feel comfortable' *smiling weakly*.

and yet.

it's a paradox really. when i'm with 1t01, i think about ye Olde class, and how i miss our little quirks. then when i pop over, i realize that even though i sincerely do miss them, their not as peeeerfect as i had made it out to be (d'oh!). and when i'm in either, i feel guilty referring to the other as 'my class'. so, as usual, like everything else, i'm stuck in the middle. what do i want!

I WANT STABILITY DAMMIT.

and really, that is a first for me because i usually appreciate change. it's interesting, and brings interesting moments but this time, with the sudden overload of work, cca and sleep depravation, waaah. it makes me feel like yelling, stop the room from spinning - i wanna get off! and the whirligig of time brings upon us it's revenges. it honestly feels like each time i pass a test (okay fine, YOU think of a better analogy when you're dead-ed), a higher bar is set for me to jump, and all i feel like doing is to go, waaaaait i need to crash. and actually, literally do.

yes.

today's cross country, fun. i raaan with ye olde class, felt kinda guilty. but uh. i dunno. anyhoo! it was fun running in the woody areas of mac ritchie, absolutely demoralizing running past speeding trucks at the expressway and breathing in volumes of carbon monoxide. wei qi my running buddy! though she uh, disappeared suddenly when i accompanied alex to the loo. who then too disappeared when she went of to look for a teacher, talked to siew ching, and then we both disappeared. a day of chesire cat-ing. re-joined the New Class, pranked-pointed at nothing in the sky (hurhur!), climbed a few gates/fences, stank up the bus and went through the messy motions of deciding where to eat.

yayness. he sat beside me on the bus today. if i had more energy, i'd translate it into massive amounts of exclamation marks, but fortunately for you dear reader, i don't! what luck! he sat beside me - and the irony, oh the irony! i was flipping through The Picture of Dorian Gray because i was going to return it today. irony seems to plague much of my life, how darkly amoosing. i wish his friend was not there (and i know nadya agrees with me on this, except for a completely different reason). on a sad-er note, he saw me running towards the finishing line during today's cross-country, and i cringed immediately the moment i saw him. i only had to pop by the loo to confirm my worst fear: a flushing SCARLET and mussed up hair. oh why oh why am i accursed to have him see me in my worst moments?! sigh-y sigh. i swear, i have tomato genes mingling in my bludde.









































also also the daaaaanger of blogs. *flashing alarm* it perturbs me, with uh links to my blog on other people's blogs, and some of them directly/indirectly knowing dorian gray. the risk cannot be ignored, it could! so haha let me amoose/terrify myself with the possibility: hello there, i lalalalalalala-like you!