bang BANG.

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bang; BANG; boom;

Not all murders have a motive
This one certainly didn't

We've reached the end of the road
Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for the ride

vendredi, février 23, 2007

I no longer like to write about people because I think that would be rather shallow of me.
But I'm going to make this case an exception. x)

For people who are under-mentioned in my blog, a special shout out to y'all for playing a significant part in making my abhorrent days in school a hell lot more tolerable. (:

This post is a tribute to Deena, Dina, Hanisah, Caroline and Christine.
Though seemingly insignificant, you can never guess how much the breaks spent with you mean to me.
Well, for one, duh, it's better than being alone even though I don't get much work done. xD

People, if you're reading this,
YOU'LL SEE MY METAL TEETH ON MONDAYYYY! (:
(and yes, it hurts like crap)

I want to see you smile but I'm sick of being the person to make you smile.
In the wise words of our dear `ol principal:
Help yourself, and others will help you. (:
(or at least, that's what I think he meant)

Libellés : Caroline, Christine, Deena, Dina, tribute

>3:29 PM

mercredi, février 21, 2007

It's difficult to be cheerful when you're in pain. (:
So while I can't smile in real life, I can smile here (:
Yes, that's right you bimbotic ass, punctuate each sentence with a smile (:

See, on the internet, people often mistake smileys such as this (:
fo a real smile.
The think that just because you put a (: after every sentence, you are actually happy and smiling as you type.

More often than not, that is not the case.

This applies also to "lol".
I'm very guilty of over-using the acronym 'lol'.
Even when I am, in fact not laughing out loud, I use it to indicate that I found something slightly funny.
In retrospect, I believe most of my friends use it on me, too. Lol. -.-'

Since then, though, netizens have found other ways to show their degree of laughter.
By inventing other arcane acronyms, they sought to make other people understand just how funny they think it is.
But of course, as I said, arcane acronyms are known to but the elite of cyberspace;
the teenagers.

For example, for jokes that happen to be the apogee of humour,
the ones that leave you rolling on the floor laughing your ass off,
these, are replied with roflmao
Which of course, means rolling on the floor laughing my ass off.

For jokes that are truly funny, but not rolling on the floor kind,
rather, just the HAHAHA*bangthetable* funny,
rofl or lmao usually suffices.

For those that you just smile in response,
you just lol. (:

But then again, knowing teenagers and how they are such sticklers to everything that does not conform, you may sometimes get roflmao for something that isn't even remotely funny. (:
That's for understanding teenagers, to you.

So while you're trying to fugure out what to use the next time someone cracks a joke on IM, I'm gonna accede to the requests of my fumbling brain to nap.
The resounding tantrums across my grey matter is getting a little too loud to ignore.
(: Goodnight people.

>3:08 PM

lundi, février 19, 2007

"Cancer"
by My Chemical Romance

Turn away,
If you could get me a drink
Of water 'cause my lips are chapped and faded
Call my aunt Marie
Help her gather all my things
And bury me in all my favorite colors,
My sisters and my brothers, still,
I will not kiss you,
'Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you.

Now turn away,
'Cause I'm awful just to see
'Cause all my hairs abandoned all my body,
Oh, my agony,
Know that I will never marry,
Baby, I'm just soggy from the chemo
But counting down the days to go
It just ain't living
And I just hope you know

That if you say (if you say)
Goodbye today (goodbye today)
I'd ask you to be true (cause I'd ask you to be true)

'Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you
'Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you

Anyway, you can download the song here

Libellés : cancer lyrics

>12:08 PM

mercredi, février 14, 2007

Syimah sang this song for The One Finals 2007.
It touched my heart even if it didn't touch the judges'.

Dance with My Father
by: Luther Vandross

Back when I was a child, before life removed all the innocence
My father would lift me high and dance with my mother and me and then
Spin me around 'til I fell asleep
Then up the stairs he would carry me
And I knew for sure I was loved
If I could get another chance, another walk, another dance with him
I'd play a song that would never, ever end

How I'd love, love, love
To dance with my father again
When I and my mother would disagree
To get my way, I would run from her to him
He'd make me laugh just to comfort me
Then finally make me do just what my mama said
Later that night when I was asleep
He left a dollar under my sheet
Never dreamed that he would be gone from me
If I could steal one final glance, one final step, one final dance with him
I'd play a song that would never, ever end
'Cause I'd love, love, love

To dance with my father again
Sometimes I'd listen outside her door
And I'd hear how my mother cried for him
I pray for her even more than me
I pray for her even more than me
I know I'm praying for much too much
But could you send back the only man she loved
I know you don't do it usually
But dear Lord she's dying
To dance with my father again
Every night I fall asleep and this is all I ever dream

I was just listening to her singing the lines,
"...I pray for her even more than me
I know I'm praying for much too much
But could you send back the only man she loved ..."
And I couldn't stand it.

Maybe it was the spirit of Valentine, but just now, my mum took out all her old cards from her 18th birthday and 21st birthday.
The ones that my dad wrote for her.

I couldn't believe it; he had impossibly neat handwriting!
Like, totally cursively neat!
If you thought my handwriting was cursive and neat, you haven't seen HIS!
Mygod, my younger sister and I were captivated by the swirls of old ink on yellowed cardpaper.

But more importantly, it was the words that enthralled me.
My first reaction upon reading was, "So sweet!"
And I know, it was actually a lot for my mum to even take them out.

But anyway, I want a guy to write cards to me like my dad did to my mum!
Complete with all the beautiful handwriting! (:

Anyway,
HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY !

and God knows, despite everything, we all want to dance with him again if we could.

Libellés : dad, Dance with My Father, handwriting

>11:29 PM

lundi, février 12, 2007

I shall stop pretending to be something I'm not.
Okay, read my previous post and see if you get what I mean.
Seriously though, I prefer to use language that I use daily in my conversations to blog.
But it (the previous post) was just one of those stupid things I do to prove to myself that I'm not stupid.
Yes, we do take such sad measures to make ourselves feel better.
Don't lie to yourself, you've done it too!
Hahha, you are still human.

Anyway, I am utterly annoyed by a certain someone.
Izeen, I am finally able to see where you're coming from.
(I always have, just, not usually to this clarity)

Question of the Century (if you're either me or Izeen and probably some of the others as well):
WHAT is the point of distributing tasks when you're going to severely chop it up anyway?

More like, task distribution in name only.
Fancify it a little bit is totally fine by me but to totally alter my style, I don't know what to name that.
I cannot claim that I never did that piece of shit because my name is printed on it in bold.
Well, this argument is the sort of thing that I do with (as Har calls it) 5-minute-enthusiasm.

Cos after that I get tired of this vicious cycle that runs ad infinitum.

On another note.
What defines courage?
Which is more brave; the one who quits or the one who endures?

One could say that a person is brave for quitting because he dares to stand up for his rights when the task no longer respects him for it.
"When the going gets tough, the tough just drop everything and run." I had read that somewhere. But to what extent does it really apply to real life?
There are quitters and there are people who persevere.
Quitters are people who know when to say no.

Unfortunately, I don't categorise myself under that.
Sometimes, I look in awe at people who dare say, "I've had enough, to hell with this thing"
Because, i lack the courage to ever do that.

Even if I hate any one particular thing, I don't kick back and go like, "I quit".
Instead, I stick to it, more often than not, learning how to make life easier for myself without having to resort to quitting.
Of course, this can have dire consequences like, burnout and also, unhappiness.

There are times, however, that I absolutely cannot find an ounce of respect in me for people who utter those 2 words; "I quit."
I used to believe the words "quitters never win" and that got me to where I am today.

And yet, there are so many people out there who became successful because they dared to quit when the going gets too tough for them, pulling themselves out of the commitment before the difficulty of the situation eats them up whole.

So my question is, Which is more deserving of the adjective brave; the endurer or the quitter?

>2:00 AM

jeudi, février 08, 2007

I realise my blog tends to surface the most apalling thoughts from the rusty crevices of my so-called brain.
Random, maybe, but most of the time, honest opinions.

For now, my brain is buzzing with activity.
Indeed, it's churning out abhorrent ideas about the standard of English in a particular Junior College in Singapore.
And also, the fact that red tape is so ubiquitous that self-censor, as a journalist, comes as second nature to me.

Firstly, I thought it should be a very important issue for the college to deal with if its students cannot articulate.
Personally, I do not claim to be flawlessly grandiloquent but there is always a limit to my patience.
Time and again, they dish out these unthinkable phrases in a language that cannot exactly be called English.

I am not saying that I have never been guilty of that.
In fact, honestly speaking, I am too guilty of that, which explains why I have been bugging my mother to let me take conversational English courses.

Call me nuts, but I am sometimes rather insecure about my inability to formulate sentences in my brain as fast as the speed at which I talk.
The result is half-formed sentences, stuttering, a lot of repetition of words and of course, horrible sentence structure.

Only when I am in a truly comfortable setting and there are no causes for self-consciousness would I be able to fluently voice out my ideas.
Explains why my mother refuses to believe that I have any problems articulating.

And then, there is the part that absolutely corrupts the beauty of the language. By diluting English with cheap imitations like Singlish, we are truly destroying, or rather, eradicating the already-low standard of English. I wonder why people are unhappy that PCK is ending for good when PCK, as everyone knows, highlights the horrible English that poeple like you and I use daily.

I am more than disconcerted by the clain that PCK is Singapore's national icon. In fact, I would even go so far as to admit that if PCK really became Singapore's national icon, I would be truly ashamed to call Singapore my homeland.

Please, give Singaporeans a little more credit. The society now, is in fact, modernised and educated and I believe, totally capable of speaking standard English.

PCK may have been the perfect average Singaporean 10 years ago but times change.
Now I believe, PCK no longer applies to the average Singaporean who works 9am to 5pm jobs.
The time has come for Singapore to leave it's yellow-booted past behind and embrace what lies in the future ahead.

>12:39 AM

dimanche, février 04, 2007

It's true what they say.
Once you stop blogging for a few days, you lose the momentum for it, somehow.
For a weird inexplicable reason, I simply cannot put into words the thoughts running through my head.

Oh . okay . Headquarters to brain, do you read?
I repeat, headquarters to brain, do you read me?

Okay. I'm getting a signal.
Wait. Ssshhhhh..

Ohyes. Brain is finally responding.
Wait. WHAT ?

Brain is telling me:
School tomorrow.
New year resolution.
Independence.
Alias now.
Tired ass.
Physiotherapy.
Extraction.
Music unknown.
Angry.
Eyes closing.
Need help.
Annihilate nemesis.
Body into river.
Chemistry.
Selfish.
Nokia charger.
Money.
Cheese Cake.
Birthdays.
Missing person.
Guilt.
Hate.
Valentine's Day.
Trust with life.
Truth talk.
Stab more people in the back.
Learn skill.
Bang piano.
Learn unconditional love.
Get rid of barriers.
Fatigue down the drain.
L'Oreal Elseve.
Ford Hair cosmetics.
Nadia and Vaughn alive.
Sexy ass.
DNA reconfiguration.

-.-
No, I did not expect anyone to decipher the rubbish my brain was churning.
It was much too lazy to form sentences, thought bubbles seem to work better.
Hmm.

>11:30 PM