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[21 May 2009|04:36am] |
fly free, little sparrow.
the world is your playground.
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[06 May 2009|11:07pm] |
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find me.
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| 23:50 |
[24 Feb 2009|02:41am] |
i never want to be without you again. i cannot do alone the casual things we do together. time passes too slow for comfort; a two-hour movie runs five hours long, and for those miserable five hours, i can physically feel my heart breaking, fighting back tears i know i shouldn't shed because technically speaking, i'm supposed to feel happy if not esctatic that Beth finally undeservingly gets what she always wanted when Neil proposes on bended knee. if you were by my side then, maybe just then i could have released the goddamned dam, out of sheer happiness, and not have to feel ashamed because i am a girl and my man is by my side. maybe you could kiss me on the temple and squeeze my hand and nudge me for being silly. but truth is, i'm not happy when you're not around. i wasn't happy, though excited at first with my newfound independence, when i waited in the line, or when i stood at the counter to get that godforbidden ticket. i wasn't happy the moment you said that was it, and i took the cue and dutifully hugged you. five hours of pure, unrefined misery. when in those five hours, i could've on impulse just decided to run home to take my passport and my passport only, get a ticket for the earliest flight out and start on my morbid mission of finding you and putting an end to all this misery. maybe i'm not being logical. maybe i'm making a hyperbole of a the littlest of situations. or maybe i just realised that it does take two hands to clap, that right cannot exist without left, that the earth is round and not just a flat surface, that i cannot go to sleep without first waging a five-minute online war with you before i finally decide you've taken enough a blow and call a truce and then tell you that i love you before i go to sleep. maybe that's just it. maybe it's because i haven't been able to say "i love you" to a single animate object, much less a breathing, living thing, with a heart that pumps, with blood flowing through its veins. maybe because all i want right now is to hear your voice, or read an e-mail from you, telling me that you love me. i've never been one to buy the "under the same sky" shit because honestly, there is only so much of the sky one's peripheral view can take in. and it's true what they say about the mind believing only what the eyes can see. or maybe not. but fuck that shit. i don't care if we're under the same fucking sky. i just want you beside me. then you wouldn't have to verbally profess your undying faith or devotion to me, because i'll know from your presence alone, nobody can make me feel the way i do when i'm with you.
why can't you just come home now? you've made me wait four days and now i'm down to eternity.
can you please just come back now? because i don't want to eat my mcspicy with fucking curry sauce; i'd rather watch you do that and laugh at you until i swallow enough air to put my fucking burger down and draw my white flag. i cannot bear to step foot into another macdonalds until you come back.
dear god.
i miss you so much, i don't even know where to start.
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| i miss you |
[21 Feb 2009|03:32am] |
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check your inbox.
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| you know what they say about |
[07 Feb 2009|05:26am] |
trust being the foundation of a relationship.
but what if the truth tears you apart?
i hope you appreciate my honesty.
i hope we'll pull through.
i love you.
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| tu m'aimes... |
[06 Feb 2009|02:37am] |
1, 2, 3, 4, 5
un peu,
beaucoup,
passionnément,
à la folie,
pas du tout.
6, 7, 8, 9, 10
un peu,
beaucoup,
à la folie,
passionément,
pas du tout.
voilà.
mais je te kiffe folle.
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| tu sais quoi? |
[30 Jan 2009|01:45am] |
TOUTE DES SALOPES.
et comme simone diras, «oui, c'est ça connard».
metro boulot dodo x cinq jours par semaine. je prends un 'express metro' tous les jours que jappelle 'le taxi'. juis actuellement fauché.
soz
c'est l'anniversaire de mon tit tit tit copain le samedi et veux-tu savoir ses cadeaux?
DIX PACKS DE BONNES CIGARETTES!
non, c'est pas vrai.
juis si drôle.
mais c'est une bonne idée. si j'avais l'argent, jacheterais un jardin avec les arbres de cherry blossom; ou peut-etre toutes les poupées Super Sentai juste pcq il kiffe enormement ce cartoon japonais; ou une guitare basse. ou toutes.
oh samedi, t vraiment un grand connard.
et aussi, on a une phrase nouvelle au boulot; "moutard pour le batard", pcq on est si cool comme ça et parfois les gens chinois sont vraiment chieurs.
jusqu'à samedi,
BONNE ANNIVERSAIRE MON PETIT DARULMON!
je t'aime, jusqu'à la mort.
(c'est un bon cadeau, si tu me demandes)
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[28 Jan 2009|04:34am] |
i lied.
i almost jizzed in my pants when i scrolled down and saw fucking pennywise's face.
AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
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| this is worse than freddie kruger clawing from under your bed |
[28 Jan 2009|03:53am] |
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staying up late has never done me any good. walking to the kitchen for my 3-hours-past-midnight snack is so painful because i hate the dark to my guts. sitting in front of the tv set even with the lights is worse; especially when i keep thinking something will fly in through the windows (and it doesn't help that the curtains are so goddamned fucking flowy) or creep in from the side from where the kitchen is. i've always hated going to the toilet in the middle of the night. i used to wake the domestic help up every single time i had to go and make her wait outside the door. now i can go by myself (given we haven't had a maid for the past half-decade) but it's much worse. tiutiu (pet hamster, rip) drowned in the toilet drain almost a year ago. don't ask me why or how, but it wasn't the first time i found her afloat in the drainpipe. (i hate hamsters, really. they'll chew/gnaw/nibble/whatever at anything, and i really mean anything, especially plastic). so i'm guessing she lifted the drain cover with her teeth (you have no idea how strong these critters' dentes are, the fuck) and fell (intentionally) into the pipe. i came home one night to an empty hamster cage and went mental looking for the bitch. actually, not really. i kinda knew where i'd find her. donc, voilà. i don't remember the events that came next; if my mother really took the bloated carcass out. i think that was the week i had to go to bangkok. so yeah, enough about my suicidal ex-hamster. for the past week, the cover's been coming off the pipe and everytime i look at it, i cannot help but imagine a zombie hamster climbing out. i don't even want to imagine being chased after by it. the mental image of a red-eyed, greased, bloated dead hamster peeking its head out a pipe fucking does me.
i'm done for. for good.
this neighbourhood creeps me out so bad. and i've only lived here all my life.
the block opposite us was torn down a couple of years ago. i met an old neighbour/classmate a few months back who moved out a couple more years earlier and she told me all the residents were asked to move out. that was a year before they started pulling the building down. and the good part was, i swear to god, i kept seeing a light on, in just one single bedroom out of all the apartments, somewhere near the top of the building, late at night. and i used to take comfort in knowing that i wasn't the only one up at 3am in the morning. and this went on up til the day they started construction itself.
if that doesn't bug you, i don't know what does.
and speaking about zombie hamsters, they look exactly like the rat prince from the nutcracker prince cartoon. in my head at least. and that shit is PG-rated.
shit.
and of course, not to mention, i keep hearing my mom's voice calling my name. even when she's asleep. for the daft ones out there, it simply means it's not her.
get me out of here.
(i'll probably be feeling better when i wake up in the morning)
(if i can sleep at all)
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| little reminders |
[05 Jan 2009|02:01am] |
chopstix
january 3rd 2009
you are crazy.
and i am insane for wanting you.
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| TO DARUL |
[05 Jan 2009|01:46am] |
I CANNOT WAIT FOR JAPAN.
AHHHHHHHH!
HURRY LET'S GET MARRIED.
NOW NOW NOW NOW NOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.
JAPANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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[04 Jan 2009|06:57pm] |
dear pennywise, i'm not scared of you anymore.
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| courtesy post |
[18 Dec 2008|01:33am] |
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you would think that at age twenty, the bouts of teen-angst would have ceased to exist. that at age twenty, you would be wholly self-sufficient, independent, not dependent. at age twenty, you would be at least halfway through getting your bachelor's degree, if not already obtained it, solid-wood-framed, mounted on your parents' bare living room walls. at age twenty, you would have had your final draft of a five-year-plan.doc saved in your C drive (that is, if you have your own computer at age twenty) or your mental capacity at the very least. at age twenty, you would have a driver's license. at age twenty, you've picked up and thrown out or have shoved the glass fragments of your adolescence with the fissures still intact under the rug.
here i am, at age twenty, living among those said glass shards. nowhere near getting a driver's license, nor a bachelor's degree. i haven't even pondered about getting around to starting on my five-year-plan. nope, not even as i'm typing this.
god hates procrastinators.
no, really. i'm sure he does.
one thing i haven't procrastinated on is though, killing my already-dead hair.
it started with this
which took two rounds of bleaching to "achieve". man, what a word. doesn't even come close. well at least i can tell my grandkids i was blonde. for a while.
a good two-weeks of walking around, working, donning a cadet cap everywhere i go outside and finally, witnessing so many other singaporeans with nicer, blonde-r hair, prompted me to go to this
after another two more rounds of bleaching. bleaching is like self-mutilation but large scale. it maps your whole fucking scalp; not just five centimetres-long and .5 millimetres-wide across your forearm. oh the agony you put yourself through. and the pain lasts at least two days, followed by a 7-day itch. (7-year itch, anyone?) if that is not self-harm, tell me what is.
and then i was forced (by myself, of course) to go red because i knew i could never achieve the likes of Shasha Pinkit (who has the perfect shade of near-platinum blonde), whom i was going to meet the day after. unfortunately, i don't have any photos of the freshly-dyed crop (which was magnificent, to say the least. no, really. even i surprised myself) but i do have a sample taken one week and several shampoos later.
which would be this
not stellar, but not too shabby either.
now i'm back to black. all for a measly passport photograph.
dyed black to bottle blonde to cheryl blossom to black again in just one month. i need to shave my head again. black dye is a bitch to bleach. and not to mention, jet black hair just does not look natural. i now walk around looking like i slapped on a patch of poodle fur on my head. bah humbug.
in other news, not related to my hair, jellybean and i are nearing our 9th month. imagine if i'd gotten knocked up the first day we got together. we'd be proud parents by now. wow, that's one liability i can totally do without right now. we'd both have to stop smoking. that'll save us about four grand a year. but the little bundle of joy would set us back five-fold of that. bundle of killjoy, more like. in the meantime, i got myself a few new babies. just two - the Diana F+ and a polaroid CoolCam - for now. waiting on tables isn't exactly a lavish job.
the guys are playing a show sunday in KL; which means i get to bring my babies out (and the older ones too) to play. but we'll only be going there for the gig before we have to take the bus back home again at night. which really sucks because KL is like photo-taking heaven. but anywhere jellybean goes, i'll go too. obsessive-compulsive girlfriend, much?
being the girlfriend of a band member automatically makes you the band's photographer; which sucks ass because i miss chancing upon gig photos of my own band and reveling in "when was this? what in the hell was i doing? debbie's face looks like shit here, haha" self-conversations. i'm not saying i hate taking photos of them nor did they appoint me to take photographs of them performing. i enjoy it really, only if the photos turn out decent.
so until sunday, here are some fairly decent shots of jellybean's band.
Vivitar EZ1, regular 35mm Kodak film
Holga 135BC, slide film stolen from hal.
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| My new aim in life |
[06 Nov 2008|01:27am] |
Is to get an Erdõs-Bacon number.
I don't care if it's 1 000 000 or something.
I just want one.
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| i don't know about you but |
[06 Nov 2008|01:17am] |
i say,
delilah loved samson.
in a way nobody, not even the most analytical of anal analysts, can fathom and describe.
besides, you don't need a reason to love somebody. you just, do.
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| i'm quitting school |
[03 Nov 2008|04:58am] |
if only my name ended with Foucault or Newton.
getting into university would be a breeze.
and getting through it would be like running the 100-metre dash with 50-year-old housewives (who don't exercise).
in other news, i have urges to shave my head again. also, i've been religiously reading trashy tabloids in the dead of the night. i downloaded iDump tonight; i finally have my old songs in the old useless nano in my new 120gb iPod classic. how sweet is that? no, don't guess. let me tell you. it's as sweet as a diabetic's urine.
if i only live up til 40, that would make me middle-aged now. and by the time i have kids, i would be a senior citizen. well, relatively speaking anyway. what i wanted to say was, who cares what i wanted to say. here's a toast to amelia earhart and all the records she held that have been smashed since.
hur.
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| fantasia |
[27 Oct 2008|02:19am] |
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a duplex
with victorian decor
baby photos on the walls
doilies on the coffee tables
a gold-trimmed moss Steinway
in the middle of the salon
white lilies in fractured glass
vases in the corners
silken spiderwebs along the stairway
two shelves at the landing
one for my archie collection
the other for marvel,
his, naturally
cream coloured doors
sheepskin rugs
dim studio lights
a baby grand in the nursing room
for when there will be a baby
4/4s, 1/2s and 1/4s
hanging from the walls
a custom zebra-print Gibson SG
in one corner
a prized possession out of
his collection
red, pink and mint minimoogs
on the carpet
gramophone in the master bedroom
records under the bed
piles of 7"s stacked knee-high
like a miniature vinyl concrete jungle
coffee rings on the bedside table
wax lyrics accompanying
crotchets and semiquavers
on stained glass windows
ticket stubs from matinées
and symphonic ensembles
in the top left drawer
of the dressing table
porcelain bathtub
laced with dried foam
essential oil bottles
some never opened
lined up on the window ledge
like babushka dolls
ashtrays brimming
with red dunhill stubs
two bicycles parked out
on the front lawn
one lavender and the other grey
out of jest
because he can never tell them
apart
dishes piled high
credit card bills in the mailbox
accounting for the nights
i insist we dine out
ambiguous shoe sizes
elliots and purcells
on the racks
to-do lists on the refridgerator door
that are never crossed
above polaroids from 2008
unreverted wedding invitations
for the following week
on the rustic dining table
because we actually won't
give a damn
no, wait.
i do give a damn.
"it's okay to fantasize, baby."
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| nettoyez vos mains après tenir-la |
[23 Oct 2008|01:56am] |
lundi
j'ai acheté un nouveau appareil photo Pola Fujifilm Instax. ba bien sûr, je préfère mon Pola Impulse 600 que j'achetais quand j'avais seize ans. c'est déja cassé. hurrrr.
quelques photos..
lundi, 20ième octobre env. 14h
à la station de boon lay après les travaux
avec mon garçon préféré
et encore, mais je suis laide ici
avec ma soeur dans sa chambre ce soir,
mes cheveux sont noirs encore!
donc, voilà!
je dois travailler maintenant.
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| 3/4ième mois |
[20 Oct 2008|12:57am] |
«ça va, le fac?»
non.
parfois je veux juste dormir toute la journée, ou voir les films que j'achetais l'année dernière. la vie maintenant n'est pas beau. si je dis «ça ne me dérange pas», je dis des mensonges.
j'ai juste vingt ans mais j'ai le monde sur mes épaules et j'en ai marré.
en dix ans, je n'aurai pas assez l'argent pour acheter un appartement ou une voiture. en dix ans, je peux pas avoir des bébés pcq je fume trop actuellement. en dix ans, je serai laide et mes cheveux seront courts encore. mais, en dix ans, j'espère que tu m'adoras encore.
mariez-moi, darul.
(tu me promis)
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