Archive for the 'Journal' Category

Jaded

August 12th, 2008 Comments(1)

Yes I know it's 5:38AM. I just can't sleep.

It's nowhere near the end of the year, but can 2008 get any worse? News of deaths of people I know keep reaching me. One of the many a dear friend, and recently, my grandfather. And so, I spent my birthday at my grandfather's funeral, pissed off at some of my relatives and cousins, who were clearly there only because they had to be. Smokey eyes and an ugly, dressy shirt with ruffles, hello? Showing off your bloody Nissan Latio like it's some Porsche at a funeral, hello?! Jess said that wakes bring out the ugliness in people. Word.

At least I have fond memories of that stubborn old man.

Sometime this year, I managed to get together with one of the most amazing plonkers ever. How unbelievably credulous was I to actually believe he was any different from the many men I have crossed paths with? Oh wait, he was special. The only one who ever managed to ruin my already miserable birthday by sending a dozen (preordered, no doubt) red roses to my doorstep when the last thing I needed was to be reminded of him.

Jess, bless her soul, was livid at said plonker. Perhaps even more so than I was. Feng shui master was consulted. Though I don't need one to know that I have no luck in relationships. Certainly I have no lack of suitors, some overzealous. (Fact. Absolutely nothing to be proud of. I prefer quality over quantity. But it's the quantity I end up with.) But even as I am consciously trying to make the right choices (mind over heart, reason over passion), I always, always make the wrong ones.

Or maybe it's a good thing not to be stuck with the same man for decades, only to end up being traded in for a newer model after acquiring stretchmarks, varicose veins, and saggy breasts giving birth to his bad genes.

Next one up in line: Try hard - try bloody hard. And even then, I may not believe you. Ever. Totally not my fault. Blame your predesscors.

Solitude

April 01st, 2004 Comments(0)

I never go out to lunch alone.

Meals alone just never happened. I hated just sitting there and munching away, with the sole purpose of filling my stomach. Meals are social affairs. I finish slowly, because I speak too much.

Without company, it's takeaways and the company of my computer.

Until recently, that is.

Attention!

November 25th, 2002 Comments(5)

To all those people who did not read my big fat entry here (all but two), you need to give me a username and password to access my journal. :P Stop screaming for my password. Give me one.

Impassioned Moved

November 23rd, 2002 Comments(8)

I moved my journal over to my own domain. It's now at http://mirror.eternise.org. Nothing new there but I switched over to MovableType cos it's more configurable so now only selected entries are passworded. I decided it will be better for my sites to finally be all in one place.

The passwording system will be different now. If you want access, you have to e-mail me with a username and password so I can keep track of everyone reading. (*Is a paranoid chica*) But you can read the other entries without password. Isn't that great? ;)

*Huggles Lauren, the greatest host in the whole wide world*

I had to copy and paste all my entries. Took me days to do it. Argh.

Disappearance

July 21st, 2002 Comments(3)

I have no excuses for my long period of absence here. Only guilt that it had been neglected for so long. I wasn't because I was too caught up in my life. No, it's as boring as ever. Nor was it because I needed somewhere away from the Net.

I guess it was because of plain laziness and pure boredom.

School hasn't been terribly torturous recently which kind of leaves a sense of foreboding. Perhaps imminent death is near.

I've always fantasized about the time when I could return home at any hour I wish. But last night's experience was hardly what I imagined.

In place of worrying about whether I would reach home in time for my curfew was worrying about Mom sitting in the sofa in the hall, waiting for me to return.

And guilt is hardly a pleasant feeling.

These Days

April 10th, 2002 Comments(1)

Been in a perpetual dreamlike state since the week started. Everything seemed to have this surreal quality to it. Sometimes I wonder if it's good to live like that. The world seems hazy and detached. And perhaps much easier to live in.

An Explanation

March 27th, 2002 Comments(0)

I never really wanted to password protect my journal. I enjoyed sharing my entries with people for a long while. It was so comforting to get mails from people who sympathise with me even though they had no idea who I am and such.

But it's getting too frightening. I guess in the end, I still need my privacy. It is not my intention to block the general public from reading, but to block a few individuals, that's what I have to do. :( Sorry.

I'm just preventing something that could happen. It happened with my gallery, something more unpleasant could happen to my journal too.

Pure Laziness

March 23rd, 2002 Comments(0)

Being lazy is becoming an addiction. I've been skipping Biology remedials, which comes as no surprise, and other after school activities.

All I ever do now is sleep. Glorious, wonderful sleep. PMS is apparently acting up again. First my emotions get caught in a blender, now I'm sleeping like I'll never get to sleep ever again.

I have no idea how come I've been so lethargic. I don't think this is good somehow. I'm never going to get anything done at this rate.

That aside, life has been suffused with the settling dust of routine and boredom. I wonder I will ever break out of that.

The Single Girl

March 18th, 2002 Comments(2)

Maybe PMS has brought me on another emotional rollercoaster ride. Right now, I just want to crawl into someone's arms and stay there forever. But there is no one.

Woke up at an unearthly hour in the morning with the sinking realisation that it's the day I go back to school. No more lazing in bed or staying up late into the night. No more of the things I get to enjoy.

I'm beginning to miss the late night phone calls that were so much a part of my life. I miss the feeling of having someone who's always there for me, ready to envelop me in his embrace should I feel emotional.

The single girl needs a sweet loving man to lean on.

I'm beginning to miss being attached. Again.

The single girl gets so tired of love letting her down.

But it doesn't seem worth it. Hurt seems to come bundled in relationships. It seems that loving isn't worth hurting later.

But there's a man I've yet to know
Waiting somewhere I've yet to go
Someday I'll have a sweet loving man to lean on

I wish. *Shuts down lyrical mode*

Staged

March 06th, 2002 Comments(1)

There were explosions. One after another. People screamed and rushed out. Smoke was pervading part of the building. Hysterical students screamed, sprinted, fainted or got lost. Parents made a beeline for the school, frenzied and sobbing.

Supposed ambulances and police cars were spotted. Phone calls poured in. Pandemonium. Utter pandemonium.

Staged. It was all an insanely dramatised act. And they called it a Simulated Emergency Exercise. Such a nice title for something awfully lame.

If there's anything worse than spending most of your entire morning idling your time away under the hot, sweltering sun, it's feeling like a character in The Sims. They were the gamers, just having a bit of pure fun with us.

Like how I murdered one of the characters. Like how I left the tombstone there so the ghost can appear at night and scare the wits out of all and sundry in the house.

It was nefarious. It was nefarious fun. For the gamer. And now we have a live version. I, instead, was the character.

The worst part was having the teacher tell you how interesting and exciting it was. There was nothing exciting about it all. After the initial shock of the explosions, my body became an automatic pilot, accustomed to the countless fire drill practices we had.

We laughed at the students who "fainted" for we thought they couldn't take the shock. We laughed at the crying parents for nothing was worth worrying about.

There was nothing fun about this pretense. Nothing at all.

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