I want nothing more than to forget.















I live with nothing more than regret.

pics from alumbra (as mentioned below)

 at macd's after, cos alumbra fridays end absurdly early. lol. met a bunch of random friendly young angmohs, all 18 years old. one of the girls was soooo gorgeous. k, i guess not ALL of them are racist. but still, MOST ARE. PFFFFFT.

HIHI THIS IS WHAT I DO WHEN I'M V BORED AND HAVE TOO MUCH EYELINER TO SPARE.

tryna squeeze in a quick post before heading to FSC for drama rehearsal.

so i went to alumbra on friday night. to commemorate my last clubbing outing for the next month (:

uhh. 'twas fun! bumped into sling and her fam&friends, so we went in with them, thennnn sling MIA-ed, then we found her, then she MIA-ed again, so we went toilet, then by the time we got back she'd left already ): oh well.

we meaning eleanor lynette and me (:

hmmm. met some other people there but i won't mention them, cause name-dropping is so obnoxious. like omg i met her then i met him then i met another girl then i met this other boy. like pls, stop, we know you're popular ok? hahaha. so i shan't do that. anyway i only bumped into like A FEW people. wasn't that many.

cheri, a fixture at alumbra, was missing cause she went to brisbane. so yeapp just the 3 of us. we had tons of fun and ignored all the MANSLUTZ.

just us girls (:

i know this is like, not very coherent, it's just a stream of thoughts, but i have 3 minutes before i need to leave the house, so forgive me for not churning out a literary gem.

i've been embarrassing myself way too much recently. time to tone down? but i don't see why i should have to. i like being straightforward. i hate all the stupid wishywashy-ness of today's modern youth. why should i be embarrassed of being concise and to-the-point? why are you trying to make me feel like a weirdo just cause i don't recoil in horror at the mere thought of confrontation?

anywayz.

was supposed to study math for tmr's quiz. epic phailery.

went for flare dance yesterday, max's piece. pak and max are jaw-droppingly good. there was this other dude who was awesome but i don't really know him so i don't know his name. heh. i just sat there and watched. i would be lying if i said i didn't feel a momentary spark of inspiration to start SERIOUSLY dancing, but i've tried it before, and i won't ever forget it: I SUCKED. hahaha. where people dance or at least spazz, i just....flail. i flail my arms around and move my feet like a frankenstein line dancer gone wrong. the only thing i could ever do was ballroom dancing, and even that was a huge struggle for me, if i didn't have suanhin as my partner, i probably would have dropped out due to major suckiness. lol.

yeah i know the vocabulary used in this post is of an astonishingly high calibre. in case you didn't know, my tone is dripping with sarcasm here.

i guess it's time for drama. but i'm too lazy to get my ass of the chair. even walking to class seems like such an arduous task nowadays. i'm so sluggish all the time. so lethargic all the time. maybe i do need to start working out more often.

i'm probably the only girl in trinity who's working out for HEALTH purposes and not aesthetic purposes. but my stamina is really horrid and my asthma keeps acting up. i wanna live a long healthy life! not a long disease-ridden, arthritis/rheumatism-ridden, hospital-iv-ridden life.

late for drama now, tyvm chronic boundary-pusher in me.

xx

情非得已

难以忘记初次见你
一双迷人的眼睛
在我脑海里
你的身影
挥散不去
握你的双手感觉你的温柔
真的有点透不过气
你的天真
我想珍惜
看到你受委屈
我会伤心
只怕我自己会爱上你
不敢让自己靠得太近
怕我没什么能够给你
爱你也需要很大的勇气
只怕我自己会爱上你
也许有天会情不自禁
想念只让自己苦了自己
爱上你是我情非得已
爱上你是我情非得已
什么原因
我竟然又会遇见你
我真的真的不愿意
就这样陷入爱的陷阱

everyone should know this song!!! it was in meteor garden!!! sigh, the good ol' times. everything was so simple back then. please, don't say you don't know meteor garden. 流星花園!! F4!!! Barbie Hsu!!

but seriously. this is a bloody good song. chinese songs have amazing lyrics.

so this post was the token non-serious one. back to being a miserable emo cow! jkjk.

so this post is gonna be fairly short and, well, less try-to-be-poetic than the previous post.

i just needed to get some stuff out. also, chrissypoo requested more frequent updates, so here's to you, you awesome non-kid! (:

so. here goes.

i'm self-centred, i'm vain, i think too highly of myself, i'm mean, i think horrible mean thoughts, i grab on way too fast, i let go way too soon, i talk way too much, i listen way too little, i pretend to care way too much, i actually care way too little, i'm selfish, i'm negative, i put on the act of being realistic, i'm hopelessly optimistic, to the point of being delusional, i'm guarded, but i don't seem it, i say "i" way too much, i'm a hopeless romantic with a fear of falling in love, but i love way too easily, i'm indecisive, i contradict myself, i confuse myself. why anyone likes me or enjoys my company, is a puzzle to me.

but i do love, with all my heart, all of you. i've never been in love, but i love you all. if that makes any sense. i thank all of you so much for showing all this concern for me through my current bout of self-indulgent self-pity.

i hope i have the strength to make good. to do good. to be good.


BIG KISS xxxxxxxxxxxx

it's really funny. i was reading a blog post from back in january, about how this blog is an amalgamation of all my thoughts/feelings/misadventures. 

if that is true, boy have i changed. those of you who follow me on twitter are probably aware of my recent existential dilemma (although that is a rather grand term). well. it's more like a quarter-life crisis that has arrived prematurely. unless i HAVE indeed reached the quarter mark, in which case maybe god's trying to tell me i'll die at 72 (touch wood). 

i've been spiralling out of control, abandoning my studies, and throwing caution to the wind.

i used to remember whining about my mind-numbingly boring life. i always loved the now-famous quote, "colour my life with the chaos of trouble". I always thought that if i ever had to tell my children the story of my youth, my straitlaced days would perhaps make for the most boring recount of the most boring teenage life ever.

so i took on the task of revving up the "chaos" and "trouble" in my life. it was especially easy achieving that since i'm not under any parental supervision here in melbourne.

(NOTE: i am not referring to drugs or smoking. i never have and never will start smoking or doing drugs. i do drink though.)

so anyway, i got to melbourne, and started, shall we say, living life in the fast lane?

i jumped at every and any opportunity to find true love, hoping i'd have some 'Great Gatsby -esque' sweeping love affair to mark my days with. i filled my weekends with activities that would scream "trouble", such as clubbing and drug-tainted house parties (where SOME of the people did drugs, NOT ALL). i made and lost many fast friends. i caused trouble between acquaintances. i did things i'm not proud of. i opened my heart to anyone who seemed decent, in an effort to maybe find my Heathcliff [please go read wuthering heights if you haven't].


it is important to note that i never did any of the above INTENTIONALLY. shit just happens.

and guess what? (yes, i have noticed my penchant for brackets and rhetorical questions)

my life is still a blur. except it's much worse. before, it was an innocent pastel portrait, wholesome and safe. 

it was boring but there were the occasional special memories, one of which was the MCP steamboat, another the days of studying at BPP's MacD's and taking bus 171 home, using the half-hour journey to reflect on how boring my life was. these memories were special. they were sparklers, flames of friendship streaking my world with that familiar yellow of warmth.

now, all i recall of my life here are lights. bright, glittering, shimmering, iridescent, flashing lights. Lights of all shapes and colours, running ribbons across my eyes, making a mad dash for nowhere, tearing through the black. they swirl and preen and are drunk with no purpose. my eyes burn, my head hammers, and my stomach churns.

it's been a revolving door of velvet ropes, friends, enemies, scenes, parties, enemy lines shifting, more friends, not-quite-there Jay Gatsbys and heartbreakingly real mirages of Heathcliff.

where my life before was a pastel painting, here it's a violent clashing of rainbow colours across a smoke-laced nightscape. things haven't changed. everything is still a blur. except here, in melbourne, special memories fade. they're replaced with new names and faces at an alarming rate, names and faces that i continually pray to be special despite my knowledge that they won't ever be. my mind and heart is inundated with so much more than i can handle, on a weekly basis. my reputation has taking a beating so severe i doubt its ability to ever stand again. 

before, the yellow sparks were remembered. they were streaks of special in my life. now i can't really see them anymore. they're lost in this kaleidoscopic riot of colours. 

nothing's changed, other than the sad fact that now, instead of telling my children my life was a blur of boring made fun by MCP and some other folks, 

i'll have to tell them my life was a blur of deep and meaningless.

so i haven't been blogging for way too long.

today, during HOI, we were discussing the topic of beauty.

we are never young/thin/beautiful enough.

and ive been surfing tumblr. all i've been seeing are pictures of painfully skinny girls with painfully chiseled cheekbones and painfully piercing eyes. there was even a tumblr that went something like "sheseverythingimnot.tumblr". seriously?

why the self-hate?

stella, ele and i spent an hour today looking at the facebook profiles of achingly gorgeous girls. with every picture, our self-contempt only increased. it's not fun, nor is it funny, but most girls indulge in this activity.

why the self-hate?

so my thoughts have been riding around on a fancy carousel in my mind, trying to find an answer. i know very well the process, best summed up in that mean girls scene. girls self-hate to come across as more modest. but somewhere along the way, we genuinely start feeling disdain for the way we look, act, speak, think, or even feel. and so my thoughts have been encircling this burgeoning question like vultures, except this time, the target is far from dying. we'll probably never know:

why the self-hate?