Death echoes a deep tone, as heartbeats raced against thoughts. Strings of flashbacks dramatized in her mind, replaying songs, places and people continously. Familiar scents swept past, yet she swung her hands backwards to clasp nothing.

Alongside the surface of her skin, she felt icy tremours penetrate from within. She could not resist the inevitability of its coming. Everyday, was a day heading towards it.

Pride and joy.

I don't wake up on the wrong side of the bed everyday, I meet the wrong kind of people who make themselves think I wake up on the wrong side of the bed everyday. It serves as a perfect excuse for them to deny their proper roles, respectively. Or perhaps, they just don't care but I contrue things differently.

Perfect piecing, callously wrecked into dozens of fragments. The ride in wandering emptiness reserves a place, for the calling to suffice. On bended knees, sorrowful spirits no higher than the ceiling collapse, as faith serves its purpose.

In the quietude, the chorus of optimism sounds, airing the ample nothingness with wholesome destiny.

When my furry favourite companion greets my morning with tiny whimpers and pawing against my bed, when I hear Fergie's vocals in Don't Lie sounding like the young Christina Aguilera, when I find myself stupidly smiling reading a message from a loved one wishing me good morning, I know today's sunshine bubbles a safe aura around me.

Spent the wee hours of this morning watching rented VCDs. Yet one of the best movies I've ever seen - Beyond Borders. The underlying love story's so subtly devastating. Spent the rest of the day stoning at my unfinished drag and drop flash game and tuning in to a deal of Boys II Men and Yellowcard.

I found the first source of income for the holidays - giving piano lessons/tuition. My first student is this really pretty 7-year old girl living upstairs.

I miss my friends.

I try, have tried, and still am trying. Problem is, Almost isn't enough; Trying is not achieving Almost's results. (Yes, I am giving English terms names, with a capital letter in front of the word I want to officially declare as a name.)

Web Animation 1 is making me sore and upset (very upset in fact). My thoughts are imploding with the simplest and most basic Flash animated games, but the actionscripts seem ironically to be a huge hassle. Being stuck (when I can move on) is making me paranoid, academic-wise. I'm feeling so weak and helpless in my own skin of capabilities. Geidre (Yes, the person herself) is an example of why I abhor emails and the plain function and purpose of its usage.

I found out that I'm not the only 'auntie/ahsoh' that catches Zhen Qing, Channel 8's drama serials and re-runs. Why don't they broadcast local drama serials on the weekends?

Still feeling miserable over the email issue. It's a wonder how Nique can endure my endless complaints and whines throughout these years. Oh, maybe she also tabuleh tahan.

Back to gruelling, and yarping to Yellowcard.

Angels of comfort arrived in the golden shimmering gates of human dwellers; parenting guiding paths. Budging to an emotional collapse, a smile rejoices a day's goodness. A gentle embrace in the arms of a godsend, eternity's crystal moment in stillness.

Chalets and booze,
Nights and tears,
'Silent All These Years',
Gangsters and ex-lovers' trauma,
Truancy and rebel,
Youth and fun.
Embedded in memory lane, forever.

Aura directs from an incandescent shaft
When waiting fidgets from the lack of patience
The flicker of the flame, silents
In a composed state of halcyon
The images throughout mortaily,
Flashes at the back of a mind
Alas, a fixed stillness;
Tranquil rest
You have heard and answered my prayers

In our shepherd, you lay a meek lamb
Within you dwell, a portion of me
Departure affirms the soul
Believe in the life, eternal
You smile, in the embrace of God

Come, mingle in merriment with me
In sleep we meet

This morning, my parents brought me to a nearby coffeeshop. On the coffeeshop's tables, there's a signage on every table.

"Outside Food And Drinks Are Not Allowed Within The Premises Of The Coffee Shop, Especially Soyabean Drink & Beancurd. Thank You For Your Co-operation."

Don't we all, already get the point that we aren't allowed to smuggle food and drinks outside the premises of that coffee shop?














I was assembling my previous design works for my showcase-portfolio today. My cupboard's jam-packed with art works and designs since Year 2002; from sketches to paintings, from blog to web designs, from developmental work to final products, from an ignorant noob to an amateur and aspiring designer and musician. End of next semester comes internship.

To fate's concidence, my mother and Marion's father met in the church during charismatic session this evening. They began introducing themselves to each other. To their surprise, both their daughters were the best of friends.

Marion had passed away for 3 unfortunate years, leaving me with no signs of how she was, and never came back to me, in dreams or whatsoever. These 3 years, I've missed her a great deal.

Her father began telling my mother about how Marion approached him in a dream one night. She assured him that she was resting in the God's abode, and that she was happy. Marion told her father, in his dream, that doing good in one's lifetime would ensure a secure and eternal life in the one after this. She appeared to him, consoling him, reassuring him that she was in heaven, in joy and paradise forever.

Upon hearing what my mother told me, my entire being filled with pure gladness. All the fatigue seemed to vanish and leave my weary body. Suddenly, I don't feel so tired anymore. Perhaps, my mother meeting her father, and her father telling my mother about his dream, was a way of Marion telling me that she's alright. Perhaps, Marion never left me, inside.

I will continue praying, as I have always before bedtime. In the deepest recesses of my book of love you will always remain.

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be;
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.

There is no life - no life without its hunger;
Each restless heart beats so imperfectly;
But when you come and I am filled with wonder,
Sometimes, I think I glimpse eternity.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.

Turn the stubborn knob of parting
Crack a mourn of departure
While it prevailed, the having
Security hides back, to curl and shrivel in fear
Dews of misled relief river down sculptures of wilted passion
Felicity's utopia; paradise's haven
Goodbye's backdoors and farewell railways;
Sow melancholy in fraying days

This waking moment
Sunlight greets a sorrow willow
Cloudy moments erase;
Happiness' stagnant phase
Climax settles to a subtle pitch
Bridges of beseech
Silenced opinions

Rewinding, over and over
Like a black and white film in its tattered machinery
Senses come to sober
An end, to this mindless fury

The universe's axel spins me in a carousel
Of laughter and tears
The hummingbirds' chorus mute to zilch
Of ambivalence and darkness

Shake awake the masquerade
Construct a fence to this senseless parade
My dear performer
A heart's fort, rebuilts within a romantic summer
Embedded around the walls of love's good word
You will be, forever

Moral of the story: Dark romance built over years of toll and sentiments can be overtaken by a 5-minutes romance. Film at its beautiful drama. Mysterious courtship and infatuation(or love) is always more exciting and exhilerating; the kind that flushes your being with adrenaline. Here in Singapore, dating and falling in love is cliche. The word 'love' is overused everywhere; even the way girls are being courted is cliche. In the entire course of the movie, the protagonist (The Phantom himself) tells Christine once that he loves her. On the other hand, glib-tongued hero Raoul countlessly promises Christine with his cheesy and mushy words; reminds me of how Singaporean guys and butches woo girls.

Without a doubt and certainly, Christine should have made The Phantom her choice.







The valiant flame that keep its furnacing remedies sustaining mounts with poise. With symphonies of the foreign langauage dancing in our little lamps, two flames frolick to the an identical tune. Repetition doubles up the chemistry effervescence, heated passion suffices. Fire, now engulfs the leftover peeping darkness and gloom. Sweetness and returns, I cherish.

Fybs says:
That - poopy and that siao ginah mummy.
Fybs says:
oh no.
Cherale says:
Wahahah
Cherale says:
wahlao
Cherale says:
u ahbeng
Fybs says:
u call ur self siao ginah
Fybs says:
This moling, Limpeh woke up to a part of limpeh perished.
Fybs says:
funny sia ur blog in benglish.
Cherale says:
..
Cherale says:
wah biang
Cherale says:
Hahaha
Me says:
I am gonna paste this into my blog this moment
Fybs says:
hahah ok
Fybs says:
Limpeh hate being accused. Limpeh hate monotony. This is so liddat random, I'll hate my kacheng too (because Limpeh hate brogging randomly budden hor, apparently, Limpeh am).
Fybs says:
this is funnier
Fybs says:
kacheng? = buttocks?
Fybs says:
u hate ur buttocks.
Cherale says:
Pengs

-

Nancy(a lecturer) joined another woman lecturer and I in the lift on a Friday morning, at 8:46am. Let me elaborate on my journey from ground floor to the sixth.

Woman lecturer: Hello Nancy
Nancy: Hello (beaming from her over-blushered cheek to over-blushered cheek)
Nancy: (Still smiling) You know what day is it today?
Woman lecturer: Special occasion? (Feintly returning Nancy's ambiguous joy)
Nancy: Today, must smile like that (Draws a long wide teethy smile, protruding her cheeks more obviously)
Woman lecturer: Why? (Finding Nancy a bit strange and weird already)
Nancy: It's Friday!
Woman lecturer: (Feigned a genuine smile to Nancy, acknowledging her point made)

This, was followed up by an uneasy silence that filled the lift, with just the three of us. The estimatedly 10-seconds deafening quiet made the woman lecturer and I almost burst into a mean rage of laughter. Maybe Nancy was anxiously anticipating glorious sex with her husband that night.

Quoted -

"IMD students
Myth: 70% slack
Fact: 0% sleep"


It's rather interesting to learn what analogies IMD students have spun for themselves. That used to be the case back in Year One. Now it has become:

IMD students
Myth: 70% slack
Fact: 40% sleep
Truest fact: 50% work
Additional fact: 10% play
_________________________
In total = 100% waste
_________________________


And, work during semester break. School, sleep, school, sleep. Work, sleep, work, sleep. I hope I meet interesting people while working. Royson promised. I can't wait until graduation. I'll be going travelling!

A fuller saturation of the sun's glow stretched miles in a jaded heart. Bleak days of confinemnent gone, and emerge, with bright chromatic daffodils swaying to liberty's new lease of breath. The grass, a fresh dewy green, luscious with freshness of a new quench of life. This, a morning's branding declaration, escapades' embarkment.















That - poopy and her mummy.

The dim street lamps flickered to the light thumping in her pulse. With dragging feet, escapism remained distant from possible. She left trails of hauling marks, and painfully, she takes a scarring journey back to nowhere. Her skin inflicted with marks of rust and bruises, those that resemble agony. She; her chain's possession.

Likewise, anguish that persistently lingers, will blemish how love takes effect on both parties. Involvement gone wrong will stain impressions, mentalities and view points, be it good or bad. Love shouldn't be having to rule, but to act in self-control and discression; not to order and instruct, but to perform according to what a heart prompts. Having said this, I can only conclude that I am in no sustaining sturdy strength to love the method/way/manner I should and must. Commitment carries no importance, shared moments are second-rated.

This morning, I woke up to a part of me perished.

Wading in a submerging well of tears
Sweeping possession, still waters
Running deep a killer current
Tides suffocate
Your limbs, their slaves

A stage play at its finale
Tragic masquerade

A night of taxing fraughts, a weighty mind
Preferred moments, a nightingale kissing them to an eternity

Delicate composition to fragility's struggle
Time, shapes life's attributes
Stones that cause stumbles and fumbles
A thousand slips of the tongue
Day light dawns
The tunnel unfound
An August Thursday
Sullen, hazy and grey

-

Corrinne May's concert was swell, although her songs were beginning to get a little dry. I love the lyrics of her tracks though. Going to get her album. A good start of a day, to a bad finish. Not intending to turn up for filming tomorrow, as usual. Will get administrative and documentation work done in the process of skipping the hands-on. Something feels amiss today. I hate being accused. I hate monotony. This is so random, I'll hate myself too (because I hate blogging randomly but apparently, I am).

Say something to make my heart flutter with blushes. Make me feel ecstatic about wanting to love. Don't chain me with routines and words. Apply honey to my wounds. Make me go crazy wanting to elicit a smile from you. I miss love that way.

Snipped and snapped away the long hair. Bangs and short hair it is (:

The enclosing crowd emerges to the center of where she stands. A sour sensation, with a gripping compression on her chest and emotions. Surprised at her apparent vulnerability, multitudes of tension arise and the pressure sets itself in a confusing state of blur.

She remained still, unloading the built pressure in a mug of piping honeyed coffee.

Hoho, Happy National Day.

6 wins in a row (Dana, Nique and Ingrid).

This entry is directed especially to a close friend of mine. No names will be disclosed throughout any course of this or any other entries.

I cannot get it, why women love throwing themselves at men, being at their beck and call. It's a disgrace and shame to women's dignity. Fancy a supposedly 'proper' lady being so hard up for a guy's love. Once bitten, twice, not shy. All men want is just a tight fuck. Don't get it, why don't women get it? They are even willing parties to initiate to being toyed, of their bodies and of their emotions. Is it worth it? I am not generalising, because men have themselves categorised in such a manner due to their uncontrolled hormonal urges being a constant. Thus, women who encourage such behaviors are yielding to naiveness.

Stupid women truly reap what the sow. I get speechless whenever women get cheated by men, physically or emotionally. Many times, I would curse men, wishing I could cast spells on them for them to be immediately castrated. And the women, fucked until the guy dumps them, driving them to a tragic state of a dead end. But what happens what it's a close friend of mine, who constantly gets played with by men? Should I say, that she too, reaps what she sows, and that she deserves the consequences?

My late best friend for example, she was cheated more than three times in the course of a year's relationship with a butch. She relented to the unfaithfulness, although terribly shattered and hurt by the butch. Eventually, she turned to giving her heart to a guy, who is now seeing another friend of hers, after she passed away for two years.

When you have a swarm of lustful men surrounding you, you totally dismiss the fact that you were once burned from your previous experience. They only target your pussy, girl. They aren't interested in marrying a 17 year old girl who isn't ready to commit. Maybe I'm naming too many wrong facts, but you yourself know it best. Your close friends have been here to tide you through the medical traumas and the mental gruel, yet you take no gratitude in your friends once you have more men after you. Don't you feel that attraction and seduction is beyond what we will grow up to be? We might be young but that doesn't give you the right to fool around in a way such that you will only need your close friends when your pot has been broken. As a friend, I have given you heaps of advices, which I don't see you heeding. The trust you choose to grant to the guy of your choice, is entirely your decision. What I hope is that you don't get carried away by the temporary glory you're savouring now. You have friends who are constantly worrying, wishing for the best for you and your life. I hope you appreciate that, instead of making friends feel like you're manipulating them. Take pride in the sex you give to take.

To a close friend: Read this with an open heart. You know you need to change. My two cents' worth will always be here, persistently serving as a form of nag in anxious hope that you may someday realise that you're not only hurting yourself, but the friends whom have endlessly tried to advice you and pray for you. You have my love always. I don't want to see you getting burned again.

Lazily dawdling on the slept-in sheets, figuring out what another Saturday should be scheduled with. Beside her, her sleepy dog, What she sees beyond her window outside, 7 billion other civilians bustling energetically around their merry-go-rounds. Apathetic; her personality alteration. A fine morning, swaying to the light breeze that playfully escapes into the room and brushing her sheepishness. Her puppy approaches her side and nudges her several hints wanting to be embraced by its master, its mother. Both, snuggling, enjoys a perfect reunion.

Nothing beats that.

Bitter-sweet talks
Jarring outcomes, impromptu
Concern mistaken for tedious exasperation
Deliberate accusations respond to accidental blunders
Clouds that changed to a sullen hue

Dispensing off love notes
A broken hope for two to share
I was wrong, I was wrong
Love, not, a suitable game for me to fare

So long
Say goodnight and go.

So it speaks, you were here.

Phoebe took a shot at my dog with her gun (literally), and she attempted freaking Cookie out. My dog wound up trembling, Cookie ended up urinating in Phoebe's room.

Nique and I came to an agreement on staying as friends. I don't need Vitamin E cream to heal my scars, I need anaestetic. I'm surprised at how I'm reacting to the after-effects of the major dispute - physical alterations. I hate the way I am now.

Ben configured the router into my desktop computer and laptop. No need to vie for the computer with June anymore. Nanny nanny poo poo. CCN day tomorrow. Phoebe and I will be walking around while we mock Dana in her retro-tribal costume.

Mehmeh: My computer keeps lagging. Hope it doesn't crash on me within the next 3 weeks.
*Yada yada*
Me: Go add more ram space?
Mehmeh: No money
Me: Ask your parents about it?
Mehmeh: I will see
Me: Why don't you do your work in school?
Mehmeh: Do work in school very uncomfortable, like no inspiration.
Me: Why?
Mehmeh: The chairs at the multimedia lab are very stiff.
Me: Hahaha, don't be so fussy.
Mehmeh: At home, the chairs more comfortable, got cushions and can turn a bit.
Me: I know what to get you for your next birthday already.
Me: A sofa to put in the multimedia lab, just for you.
Mehmeh: Cushion can already.
Me: Oh, ya hor.

Possibly another good laugh for a grey-sky Wednesday - Furong JieJie's English Blog (so she claims it's English) and Furong JieJie's Chinese Blog.

Compliments from Chwee Guan. Source site - TP mail. A grunt to this:
"The excitement is growing.
The feeling is in the air.
No it is not snowing!
It's CCN Day, be there."

Peach dreams gurgle in sculptures of butterflies. A whirling headspin beats the rhythmic joy. Truthful exchange in semi-conscious sober state invites subtle felicity. Lip to lip, love returns, gently overflowing with childlike enthusiasm. Two hearts in delicate recuperation; hands intertwine to a pledge made seven months before. Farewell, to dubious tomorrows.

Happy Seventh this Second, my dearest love.

Caramel and almond, savoury
Sweet and bitter mocha, thickened to fragrance
Avid conversationists, sit by and relax
In the company of loosened tension and ease,
7th on 2nd, Just you and me.