CreativeStress Juices

I used to write mediocre (not exactly cringe-worthy, but not impressive either) poems during incredibly stressful times as such.

And it'll always be about him. The sweet, old dearest 52.

But today, when there's so many Chem topics left to cover, I tried to find an outlet by penning another mediocrity. Nothing came out though. No desolation, no familiar misery, no comforting heartache, not even a trace of bitter-sweet memory.

Then I tried putting myself into when I last cried for him. I sobbed and made such a humiliating scene that a stranger at school came up to me and asked if I was okay. The sky cried so heavily, and I rained torrents. My heart ached like it was gonna beat it's last dying rhythm, my world was spinning so badly I though my life's gonna crash as well.

But I have lost my inspiration to write.

And there goes my lacerated heart too.

Maybe not having a heart anymore means I'm bidding farewell to sadness.

Which is good ain't it? :) |

Bio and Econs tomorrow.

I'm royally screwed.

How? It'll be the first time I'll cover less than half for all the topics tested.

At times like this, I only wish for longer days. Even staying up all night will serve no frickin use.

Very panicky and paranoid.

Wish me luck please? I need loads of it to secure a pass :( |

So Very Sweet!

I'm terribly moody and whiny these days, due to the impending horror that's better left unnamed. Oh, not to mention cranky, because I laugh at everything un-funny, and think the weirdest thoughts about the most mundane stuffs.

So midway through the torturous, arduous study session, I was complaining non-stop to poor Eu and Monkey about how paranoid I was, how all that Math is making me nauseous, and that I'm exhausted to my bones. You know how loudly and clearly my voice resounds, despite my very valiant efforts to conceal it . Haha. Then suddenly, the boy beside pushed his foolscap pad towards me. I looked down in surprise, and there were the words in his very neat handwriting, "If you're sick of looking at books, go do something else."

I glanced at him, and he said cheerily, "If not it's very sian."

His smile and gesture was very sweet :)

That was the first time I smiled voluntarily for days, and the warmth of humanity for months.:)))

You know sometimes, it's doesnt matter how grand or elaborate the things people do for you, but the thought and effort they put into it.

Like how Monkey thought I was sick and said I should stop studying already. I think my panic was written very clearly on my face, because he and Eu (especially dear Eu) were repeatedly coaxing me, in case I go bonkers.

I need more love. And so does the world. |

I'm hoping it's the hormonal imbalance and zero tolerance for academic stress.

Funny though, I've never suffered from PMS all my reproductive years. Studying really does increase one's vunerablility towards everything. I may be fragile to begin with, but never have I suffered from this many cases of flu and migraines in a month.

Sick, moody, weak and nauseous.

Hurrah! I'm in tip-top condition for the damned CTs! (: |

I was always so petrified of Death. I was an ardent fan of Life.

The most devout believer in Hope, Love and Dreams.

The loyal worshipper of Light and Happiness.

The messiah of Smiles and Laughters.













But now I think I shouldn't hold such prejudices against Death. It really ain't that bad after all. Maybe it would treat me better than Life itself..who knows? :) |

Suicide 101.

If we were to slit our wrists and position the gashes right on top of each other, we'll have each other's blood flowing into our being till the very last drop. You'll have the essence of my life, and I'll have the essence of yours. The scarred, lost souls would then be released from the shrivelled, brutalised empty shells.

So we'll depart as a whole. An individual. An entity.

Binded forever by the ever-so symbolic crimson fluid we call Blood.

I think it's the most romantic way to bid an eternal farewell to this vast empty world. I've always wanted my suicide to be as bloody, as dramatic, and as romantic as possible. |

The eff-ing screwed life

Runaway train never comin' back
Runaway train tearin' up the track
Runaway train burnin' in my veins
I runaway but it always seems the same

I've been really panicky of late. The fingers would tremble for no reason when I chat (maybe it's out of guilt because I should really start hitting the books), the lungs would forget all about inhaling, the heart pound against my ribs like it's threatening to break free.

DAMN THIS REALLY.

I wanna hop onto a runaway train/plane. Doesnt matter who's driving it, because nothing else can be as unbearable as this torture I'm compelled to go through. I've never wanted so much to leave. It's become all that I wish and pray for every waking moment of my life now.

This damned school, damned system, damned country.

Maybe, just maybe escaping into the world in my mind would be a sort of release. You know, living in your own imagination and being oblivious to all that pain and bleakness around you. It's almost like Prozac I guess, but I'm afraid of being too addicted to the beatitude, I get even more psychotic. So there's no way out of this Hell after all-is there?

Schizophrenia with Depression anyone? |

Mr Mist.

His entries never fail to make me tear, but the latest made me cry in painful solitude.

Besides this special someone, he's prolly the only person who understands. The tragic events of life at such tender age, the unstoppable addiction to misery that veers towards indulgence, the world-wreariness when we're barely out of our teens, the running away from all who cares because all we want is to sink effortlessly into wasteland and not shake off our heartache just to have our hearts broken again.

If I had the courage, I'd tell him running away grants you some peace and solitude no doubt, but that's only temporary. Life is structured in such a way that we can only afford tiny breaks (or break-downs), and then we continue the suffering. You can hide in bed all day, but you have to face up to those around you eventually, because nobody can live without their loved ones.

I'd tell him that alchohol provides one night of numbed bliss, and thereafter the painful truths comes tumbling back twice as fast. In fact you'll find it harder to come to terms with them because of your guilt that you've succumbed to the emotional weakness. That's not to mention the addiction, the permanently murky mind, the vast emptiness of helplessness, the horrid hang-overs and the shame when your loved ones realised your self-destructive ways.

I'd tell him that most people out there are superficial and self-centred-we shouldnt presume that even our closest friends understand us. They see us as the usual angst-ridden emo teens, but what we really are going through is a depressive state of mind that can never be shaken off, unless we find the solutions to these heart-wrenching aspects of life. Nobody understands, except for those who share our mindset. We should prolly form an exclusive Psychotics Party where only certified patients gain membership. Heh.

I'd tell him that we've become so good at whining and lamenting about the cruelty of life-that we're too blinded to seek solutions. Or maybe we know the solutions, but they're way outta our reach. It make take years, a lifetime even, to accept our screwed lives as it is...

Ain't it good to know that you've got a friend
When people can be so cold
They'll hurt you, and desert you
And take your soul if you let them
Oh yeah, but don't you let them

but I'd really like to see what would happen if we ever came together. |

Away Again.

Will be whisking off to the Banyan Tree Resort (like finally!) for a not so well-deserved beach holiday. Heh, but at least I did put in some half-hearted efforts these days for something I have deep hatred for-hence this lil self-reward/self-indulgence, whichever you may call it.

It's only my loathing for this country that could propel me past the local customs thrice in these 6 months. Damn. I'm not gonna think about this nightmarish hell-hole during the days I'm away...whatever horrific matters that awaits shall be dealt with in the future.

If only I could leave forever. If only...*sighs*. |

I'm wanted (:

I think people actually care about me.

• He still thinks of me when he's thousands of miles away and having the time of his life. And the silly things he promised to bring back (though I rejected him, because he'll get jailed for them! lol.)-just spells concern no?
• He thinks of me late in the night, despite an exhausting day. He remembers what I remember about the happy times we had, and offered to relive it.
• He remembered and planned wonderful surprises for my birthday, only to be awkwardly pushed away. And to think that we've only know each other for less than a year!
• She promised me an exciting night out after CTs. As much as she loathes clubbing, she's willing to provide her amazing company, just because I'm ever the night life-r. I do know the sacrifice invovled-and I always loved her. (:
• They went clubbing, just because I wanted to-though I don't think it really suited them well. And she was actually risking her Dad finding out, and receiving grounding if that ever happened.
• She's actually still willing to spend with me, despite the incredible bore that I am, and that she's so frickin busy. I'm not sure if we'll ever go out, but I think the friendship between us still retains its strength.
• He doesnt chat with me anymore only because he thought I needed some quiet time. Haha-silly boy! [I know you read this. We need loads of catching up because of the silly misunderstanding!]
• Many, many besties out there who reads this blog out of pure care and concern.

Am very, very touched.

Thank you (: |

I like it when we complete each other's sentences. I love our late-night chats. I delight at our enlightening arguements. I covet that you may be the only one in world who thinks in the same morbid/weird/cynical way as I do.

I like being weird. Though I can't help looking like every other plain Janes out there, I rejoice in the fact that at least the inside aint like the cookie-cutter ShuNu personality. These different views and feelings aren't always well-received. Defending oneself from so many oppositions gets so frickin tiring sometimes-I just give up and go with the flow.

But it's nice to have you around. Most of the times we do disagree a little, but I guess we always come to the same conclusion no? It's comforting to know that when the whole world goes against me/ lets me down, there'll be someone out there for me (: |

We were at this Chinese restaurant the other day which was pretty retro in everything. The decor, the waiters' uniform, the lighting, and even the music! I can't remember the name of it (because the language still boggles me to no end)-but it's somewhere along Upper Cross Street.

Halfway through a very hearty meal, this old Chinese song that I've grown so attached to because of a particular movie I watched with Huan, came on.

" I'll keep my sorrows to myself,
You'll take your beauty away with you.
From now on I've lost my reason to be happy.

I guess can live with the misery,
And pretend you never came into my life.
From now on, I shall wait day and night for your return."

Maybe the magic is lost with English words that are a tad superficial, because Chinese is the one of the most profound and difficult languages I've ever come across. But you get the general idea.

Oh, it's such a beautifully tragic song, it's my fave (:

My heart sank immediately, and I lost my appetite just like that. Week after week all my life, I always looked forward to such meals at higher-end restaurants. No doubt they mostly serve Chinese food (choice of the impossibly traditional parents), but I kinda like the ambience and amazing service. Besides, some Chinese dishes deserve credit too..(: But no amount of tantalising scallops/over-loaded abalone soups/fish/veal could bring back the appetite I've forsaken. I never knew music had such great impact on me...or are my emotions really over the top? Has my sordid affair with Misery taken over my life? Sometimes I really wonder if I feel too much for minute events as such.

An enjoyable weekly affair thus ended on a darn heavy note.

That was a rather pricey lesson learnt : Whip out your own Ipod or head to the washroom when such music plays. Really, it affections your mood a hell lot-and all that food wasted wrecks you further with guilt.

On the other hand, Jazz/Blues are the best for meal-time listening. Equinox and Mezza9 has pretty good music. I'd recommend the former, cause you get the most incredibly view of the whole CBD area, at almost 80 stories high! And there's this nice Indian restaurant at Raffles City/Swissotel that has really really cute and upbeat Indian tunes! Haha...super sumptious curry too (: At Paragon, there's this French restaurant (sorry, I'm really horrid at remembering foreign-sounding names) that has hunky violinists playing right at your tableside. Imagine digging into that heavenly Duck Confit while eyeing that brown-haired (yes, it's my new fetish!) wonder....

There, here's two of my greatest indulgence-food and music. |

Death by LOST.

It's the best serial since The OC and D. Housewives I tell you. In fact, dare I say it...it's the best TV show I've ever watched (: All that suspense (where exactly is the island they're stranded on? what is that gargantuan monster stalking them?), eye candies and witty dialogue will keep me glued season to season from now on. Can't wait for next Thurs!!!

There's this character that caught my eye (and heart) immediately when the show came on. It's this blonde lolita who's with child. I think secretly, I've always wanted to be someone like her. A strong independent (and most prolly single) mum-to-be who manages to maintain this positive outlook on life. It sounds darn inappropriate for these words to come outta a 18 year-old's mouth, but I want a child too (: I don't see a need for a Significant Other, because a woman's determination and courage is enough to sustain life. Besides, all the horrid experiences has put me off guys-maybe not forever, but for a while at least. But a child would bring along all the love, hope and joy in the world.

I'd like that.

And I hope that when I do eventually adopt a child, I'll be as strong as any Mum will be.




Blah, I know these utterances are ironic for someone barely out of childhood...but I was never a normal child to start with, and prolly never will be a normal grown-up. |

The Baby Giraffe

He was there, sitting among the row of old ladies when she arrived. Tall, gangly, very gorgeous, he stood out like the gentlest baby giraffe surrounded by porcupines. When their eyes met, all she could see was the very nice set of pearly whites. Yes, it was by far more dazzling than 52's.

When he stood up, it was 1.8m worth of white-hot sexiness. That yellow tee was boyishly cute -and she loved that funky bad-boy leather band! When their pace matched each others', she heard the softest, "Hey.." on her right. Wishing with all her thumping heart, she turned in hope of seeing him. And there he was! That dazzling smile never once leaving his perfectly sculpted face.

And we all know what kinda coward Vic is when she's forced to confront guys she's attracted to, dont we? She looked away almost immediately, pretending as if nothing had happened. No, don't ask her why she did it. Such fear is always irrational and uncalled for. There's nothing she can do about it either..:(

Then they boarded together, and it was the happiest coincidence ever when he sat beside her! Like whoa! The brown-haired Greek God that was this short of causing hyperventilation! This time no matter how much her heart trembled, and her palms palpitated with anxiety, she fixed her gazed on his and returned his smile. Then the whiff of musky scent (with a hint of citrus) intoxicated her. Like totally. It sent her reeling into light-headed giddyness...There was small talk, with her stumbling awkwardly on her sentences, punctuating them with many unforgivable "Erm"s and "Ah"s.

It was unadulterated joy. Elation in it's purest form. She revelled in his charm, and secretly admired the way he talked: the little gestures, the phrasing, the animated expressions and oh, the so bewitching smile..

Until he mentioned "New York".

Of all the places on Earth, he has to hail from there.

The place she dreamed of her entire life, but had to give up due to so many unfortunate circumstances. Now she could no longer hear the sound of it and not sigh in wistfulness. The love of her life! Her ultimate dream! Her whole frickin future! New York is her everything..

Her face fell almost immediately, and tears welled up as she listened to him describe the life she wished for. It was kinda weird, with him being childishly enthusiastic, and her mustering only the most forlorn of smiles. The streets, the people, the bistros, Central Park, the museums, Broadway-they came to life with his words. In those precious moments, his soothing voice brought her halfway around the world.

Baby Giraffe: Hey, are you alright.....
Vee: Erm, yep. I wish I could go there one day.
B.G: I hope you will too. *smiles*
Vee: Then you'll show me around, won't you?
Vee: *secretly thinks* Oh, take me back to NYC please..I'll be no burden. I'll bring nothing. I'll leave with just me. Just say you'll take me away boy!!
B.G: Yeah of course! *pats chest* The tour-guide at your service!
B.G: Oh wait, can I have your number?
Vee: Err..why? *eyes light up, thinking Giraffe's the millionaire hero who'll rescue her from this Hell*
B.G: Are you against making friends?
*awkward pause*
Vee: *laughs uncomfortably* Of course not! It's just that...ah, why don't you give me yours instead?

Then they bade the most reluctant goodbyes and went on with their respective lives. Him, to explore this "beautiful, exotic country" and then return to his life in the city where dreams are made of. Her, to fantasise about her New York, of beautiful streets and people; and to finally die in this living hell.



footnote: She deleted his number the moment they parted. It wasn't because she has qualms about befriending strangers or that her hostility has reached a new-high. It's because it's no frickin use harping on a dream that will never be fulfilled. It saps too much time and energy that she's compelled to use for more "practical purposes". The Baby Giraffe will only serve as a painful reminder of her forsaken dreams. But in any case, she loves him much more than because he's living the life she wanted...oh, so much more...


Edit: I'm almost positive his scent is Ralph Lauren. Very sexy (: |

Have you ever over-dosed on a song, till funny images that it reminds you of runs over and over again in your mind?

Yesterday,
Love was such an easy game to play;
Now I need a place to hide away,
Oh, I believe in yesterday.

I wanna run away to Vienna with this certain brown-haired darling. We'll bring nothing, because nothing here is worth bringing. Then we'll stand over this bridge looking over the gushing river. I'll threaten to let it overflow with the torrent of tears I'm so capable of raining..all the pain, the unsavoury memories, the heartache shall be thoroughly cleansed from me. And finally when I'm the emptied of all things negative, the world wreary me shall bury my face in his jacket-which will be the happiest, safest and most comforting place in the world.

Sigh, who will be my brown-haired darling? Who wants to be? |

Mats (No, not those on the floor)

I think Mum just hinted her approval of Malay guys today.

Mum: I think Malays are way better than Chinese.
Vee: *secretly agrees, but acts doubtful* Har? Really meh?
Mum: Ya. Malay guys are more helpful and loyal as friends. Very good people.
Vee: *smiles to herself*. Ya loh...I like Malays too.
Mum: *fails to notice the hidden meaning*

Whatever happened to the Malay-hating Vic? The one who got so severely traumatised during her most-loved NPCC days, that she swore Malays will forever be her mortal enemies? The one who'd do anything to squash the likes of Rodent, Aisha and the other similarly snobbish, abusive and annoying seniors to death?

It must have been Angklung and Zal.

Dear, oh dear Zal. Currently the hottest guy in NJ; complete with very sexy forearms, lanky frame and searing passion for the beats. I believe Im his MOST ardent fan, among the throngs of teenage girls who're ga-ga over him. If only he knows. If only..

Sheesh, and it doesn't help that I've been eyeing Malay guys too (and Angmohs lah..but that has always been a fave). I cant help but secretly observe in awe their nonchalence, pai-kia sexiness, excellent dress sense (for some), goofiness and eloquence. Trust me, they'regenerally more verbally skilled than us in English than you might think-oh, you don't know how much I covet that! Imagine all that white-hot verbal sparring (:

If only I didnt have to compete with the hundreds of beautiful almond-eyed, high cheek-boned, reed-thin minahs out there. Look at the pretty pretty natural tan they wear! They define "exotic beauty", leaving no room for jaundiced, plain Janes like me...

For the first time in my life, I realise being a Chinese is a major disadvantage. It's nothing unique/ extraordinary at all being a majority race. It's worse when you have a common face and get mistaken for people's friends all the frickin time.

I think Malay has become the In-race ever since TauGay won that Singapore Idols. At least it has become so with me, because that was about the same time Zal began catching my fickle eyes. |

Current Status

Lan: So you havent updated me on your love life.
Vee: I'm still very into 52.
Lan: Oh.
Vee: Ya. *sighs wearily*

I think I'll always be in love with the most beautiful, wonderful and terrible boy in the whole world.

Always. Time after frickin time. |

Smooth Connection.

It's all about connection and compatibility these days. I think I've found my connection since eons ago, only it's just a super-confidante and nothing more. How so?

• Late night chats that extend straight into the wee hours of the morning.
• Realising how late it was only when I looked at my MSN contacts, and realise only 5 are online, and 2/5 are "Away".
• Occasional SMS-es. Simple, but the thoughtfulness drenches each message with wholesome, saccharine goodness.
• Random, irrelevant topics that I simply dig.
• Being able to contribute enthusiastically to heavier topics even though my mind's half a step into unconsciosness.
• Sharing similar perverse tastes that should be best left as secrets.
• Being able to broach weird questions I wouldn't dare to bring up even in front of the oldest friends-and getting very honest and sincere replies in return (:
• Just simply clicking so much that lulls between us never bothers me for once.

I think it's nice to have friends whom you can pour out a portion of your heart to. Like, screwy relationship stuffs go to Rose, screwy general life issues goes to Chus, screwy liking for sadness goes to the select anonymous few. In this way, you get to keep your privacy but have very supportive listening ears at the same time.

And if you collect all my friends and distill all the information about me, you'll finally get the whole Vic package (: |

Funny Cousin.


Kai :: wat u mean tim sum place bob got treat b4? u guyz want bring mi go ah? hahaz msg mi when u online says:
u got hear ah ma talk?
Kai :: wat u mean tim sum place bob got treat b4? u guyz want bring mi go ah? hahaz msg mi when u online says:
vry funny
it was the sweetest while it lasted. says:
no..they talk abt waT?
Kai :: wat u mean tim sum place bob got treat b4? u guyz want bring mi go ah? hahaz msg mi when u online says:
she said she snatch free thing lose 2 those ppl ...... the ppl like gui ai lia yi ki si lol
it was the sweetest while it lasted. says:
hahahahahahaha

|

Bye My Boy.


It was the last ever Angklung session today. You know how over-emotional I am about Goodbyes. I. Can. Never. Bare. To. Let. Go.

Especially when it brought me the craziest/happiest moments, and all those memories were simply saccharine sweet. There was all the bitching about 5F and Free Willy (both of whom gradually grew onto me), inane shout-outs right in the middle of the classroom, the secret smiles and gazes I shared with Mr Hot Drummer, how Zul inspired and moved me to no end, and of course, the whole-hearted devotion each of us has towards Angklung.

It's been 15 months already. I've gotton so used to the impossibly stuffy TC classroom we practice at, the mentally taxing practices, the wonderful wonderful snacks, joking and laughing with the sweet juniors, blatantly laughing at FW/5F....And those long arduous SYF practices we had that run straight into the night! Whoa! Those were the best-kept memories! All that exhaustion, frustration and sweat free-wheeled into a Gold award. You can imagine the satisfaction and contentment... How could I ever let this go??

We arent really a tight bunch, probably due to our sheer population. There's always complains about minor problems, upsets over certain people...you'd think that being in Angklung is a waste of time because we're so segregated.. But you know, I really think we're a harmonious whole whenever we play. All that laughing and talking binds us together like no other too. I'm damn proud of such a CCA, and I never did regret my choice.

So today was supposedly a major performance. It was to commemorate the opening of Taman Warisan, and even the Old Man Long (shall refer to him as ah long) came! Playing at the Raffles Hospital was pure hell. After every song, I had to wipe off a THICK film of sweat on my face-and once, there was this fat bead of sweat that trickled down my lips. It was THAT hot and humid. We played really poorly the first time too..but thank god we managed to pick up the pace and didnt stop mid-way!! Then we went to the actual Taman Warisan building. While standing along the sides of a road (as part of the most redundant procession) to welcome Ah Long, we sweated buckets again. Following that was waiting, eating, waiting, eating, waiting again-and then came the climax when we performed exclusively for Ah Long alongside Malay Dance, get this, in a mere 30 sec or so. Damn! All our blood and sweat these past weeks just for 30 seconds! Just for an ordinary elderly too! Ptooi!

At least the pseudo-red carpet feeling was worth savouring. Having tens of cameras in front of you, flashing frantically away...and those reporters shoving each other to get better angles-WOW! I like that!!!

It was the longest, stickiest, sweatiest, most tiring day ever-but I was happy. Really really happy, especially when Eric and FW came over during our so-called dinner, and we had REAL FUN laughing over nothing (at least I did). I'm so glad the Last ended on such a happy and satisfying note (pun intended)....

But I really really want more last practices. I really really want more happy memories of NJ. There's so much that I can never bare to leave behind. The amazing friendships I made with Eric, ZiHao, Rena, Dora, Yenli, Xiu, Nan, and even FW! They're the funnest and wackiest bunch of people that I'll ever love in NJ. Then there's the awe-inspiring Zul who oozes charm and humour from every pore. I love him to bits too. Then there's this sense of unity when we play. It's almost like being in NP all over again (well maybe it falls short...but still!). And finally, there's the Zal-most prolly the only Malay guy who'll win me over. Oh, and prolly the only guy who'll come THIS close to replacing 52...

Bye Angklung.

Bye Zal.

Sigh, how badly I'll miss this..... |

Too Much Phunk.

The other night while I slept the sweetest sleep, my mind wandered off to the fiery depths of Hell. For all I know, it might have been NJ. Heh. But anyway, I met the Blog-Devil. It was a horrid horrid monster. Black rotound figure, crimson eyes, gargantuan horns, and fugly clawed fingers.

BD: Do you think you can run forever and not blog anymore?
Vee: *cowers in fright, despite the fierce protest of her pride*
BD: Muahahahahahaha!
Vee: IDIOT!!! GET OUT OF MY FACE CUZ YOU'RE HIDEOUS!
(I think I was very brave, even by dream-standards no?)
BD: He reads your blog. Stop blogging, and you'll bid him goodbye forever.
Vee: *begins whining and throwing a horrid tantrum*

Silly dream wasnt it?

Must have been all that junk I've gurgled down prior to crashing unceremoniously onto my bed. Mind you, it was A LOT. Bleah. The drinks were on the house, company was sweet, music was fab. That Jim Beam must have been my undoing really--and I didnt even ask for that!!! Hmph. All I wanted was simple JD :(

P: I like being drunk.
Vee: Me too. But I don't really get drunk. Haha.
P: There's less restrictions to care about.
Vee: More confidence too.
Vee: And Im happier like this....not brooding about the morbid stuffs.

Haha. Then there were loads of senseless giggling and incessant mumbles from yours truly.

And the next day, I sat for Bio SPA with the worst hangover. Dull throbbing in the temples, quivering hands, clouded mind--and all I could think about was not to stop blogging, because I still need him in my life. I mean, what if my intuition's right for once, and he really reads this?

Sigh.

So, here's the very reluctant entry. All because of something borne of a figment of my imagination. Here's my take on alcohol: Stick to JDs-JBs give you the weirdest dreams. |

about

Currently eighteen, and waiting for my angsty phase to run out. I'm a slave to books, to unfortunate circumstances like "exams" and "assignments". My expertise is my 100 decibel scream and barking laughter. I'm profoundly in love with NYC, and there isn't a second in which I don't wish for a life there.

This is not entertainment nor a place too seek for deep musings.This is the highly selective, highly biased, highly opinionated account of my life. I just write, as I feel. No, not think. Feel.

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