Why I Hate Gyms

*puts on head-phones, and sets cross-trainer timer to 30 mins*
*5 mins into workout: Whoa! This is so easy-peasy! I'm already fit without excercising! Yayy!*
*10 mins: I so love this machine! Must come here everyday!*
*15 mins: Think of -huff- toned legs! -huff- Pace yourself! *
*20 mins: Wah lau...don't give up leh. Must save face for yourself, because that hot angmoh seems to love resting his eyes on you!*
*25 mins: Die also must continue! So fat already still dont exercise. If not now, then when?*
*26mins: Kurt Cobain is cool!! Love this song man! Now if only I can jump onto the bed and fantasise about his suicide*
*28 mins: I -COUGH- cant. even. think. now.*
*29 mins: Hot angmoh gets off the treadmill and leaves the gym. Wah heng ah! Can slow down already! *
*30 mins: Successfully reduced to a flushed lump drenched in her own sweat*

It was the most torturous 30 minutes I've been through. Why can't excerising be a private affairs, free of distractions like hot sweating bods and the constant urge to "save face"?

No more gyms. Shall seek other weight-loss methods-but till then, I think I'll remain fat :( |

I Think You Were Here All Along

When I almost sank into eternal passivity, the Supreme Being above sent the beloved Fifi to me.

One would think that being in the same school constitutes meeting him daily. But no, on days when I wished I could share my precious joy with someone worthy, he dead refused to appear in front of me. Even when we arranged for a meal together, cruel twists of fate would intervene what would have been the most meaningful reunions.

It is true I love, adore and respect him like no other. They ask me why I've devoted so much time and effort into a seemingly non-existent friendship, but I always fail to come up with a satisfactory reply. All relationships stem from love, so we shouldn't try to decipher the profound mystery of the love between friends :)

I met him twice today, and that was sufficient to sustain my semi-dead mind and body throughout the whole day. His presence has an almighty effect on my mood, simply because I love him. Smiling and laughing becomes so natural for me when he's around. I no longer am coerced to put up a normal, cheerful front because happiness bursts forth from the heart. The choir of angels above break into an upbeat song, the sun decides to be more radiant, colours around me become more competitive in a bid to be the most vibrant one. Oh, you don't know how close I was to closing my heart to the world forever, after the events in school today, and how he single-handedly pulled me out of the dumps by just being there. No one else in the world could have done that.

If God really has a heart, a conscience, why can't He give me Fifi everyday? If that could
happen, I wouldn't loathe this school and country just as much. But it's okay, because I've decided to stay on here. You probably would have predicted that anyway, judging from how my moods swing with greater frequency than a pendulum. And you do know how over-sentimental and over-dependent I am. I never would have survived in a whole new world in my current fragile state. I can't even shop nor walk into the NJ compound alone (extremely pathetic, but oh so true!), or prepare a simple salad, or handle a vacuum cleaner without dismantling the plug! Plus leaving people like 52 and Fifi behind would scar my heart for my whole life.

I really want Fifi to be there with me through the many more important events in my life. I want to bring him clubbing, I want him to visit me should I fall ill, I want to haunt him even in university, I want to bother him with my work-related problems, I want him to be my Best Man for my wedding, I want to name my kids after him.

I want him to be my Best Friend till the moment I breathe my last. |

I was so close to tugging onto the hand and trying to drag both of us out of the graves we dug with our own hands.

We're in the most terrible mess EVAR.

Do you know I was on the verge of having a heart-attack? No, I'm neither obese or immensely unfit, but fear, in its purest manifest simply overwhelms me. I was so scared.....so scared. The whole day was really screwed. I couldnt think, couldnt talk, couldnt smile. Joan said I lost weight, much against my vehement denies-I cant help feeling a sense of dread about that remark. We all know why I've shed off some pounds, if the lard really budged, that is.

It's not a good sign.

I need him beside me, to confound me with his advise and encouragement; to hold my hand, enveloping it in his warmth; to look into my eyes with those dewy orbs of his, enrapturing me forever. But I can't say anything about this to anyone. And more than anyone else, I need the select few friends to soothe the extremely frail heart.

Soon, very very soon, I will finally break down. Then at least someone can share my sorrows with me, whoever that person may be when I choose to collapse.

Sigh, heart very painful leh. Just so you know, this devastates a million times more than pining for 52. :( |

I love Wei!

I love Nan!

I love Xiu!

I love Hui!

I love Boon!

I love Eu!

I love Lao Xiu!

Because they created the most exciting, fun-filled moments for me, and made me feel worthy of happiness again. What a great, boisterous, loud, out-going bunch we are!

I'm so darn tired now. Yes, I've been playing way past my physical limits these days....so actual blogging will hafta wait :) |

The Perfect Excuse

Talking (well er, chatting actually) with him makes me so exhilarated, my lips are chapped because I forget to wet them, my fingers tremble ever so slightly whenever I struggle to type a reply, my heart threatens to take a great leap out of my throat, my head feels so incredibly light I thought I was the incarnate of a helium balloon, my mood elevates automatically to the "highest happiness level".

I can't blog about the very happy events I've had since Friday, because even though they make me smile, nothing makes me smile as sheepishly as he does now :) |

Oh Bestie, Where Art Thou?

I think I need a best friend.

To be truthful, I havent had one since the cheery, carefree Lower Sec days. Those wonderful memories have since turned yellow around the edges. As I aged, besties became buddies, while buddies became casual acquaintances. Your social circles widen, and you begin to give part of yourself to so many beloved people, none of the relationships are exclusive anymore. Sometimes you have so many people who genuinely care for you, you just don't know who to turn to. You get damn confused. You know the one whom you choose will be the unfortunate bearer of all your tragic issues, thus you can't bare to weigh them down with the burdens you've been carrying all your life. They're your beloved friends! How could you be so selfish, so inconsiderate as to drag them into your screwed life?

You can't, because you love them so. You need them for their lovely company, even though they don't know half of what crosses your mind most of the time.


There's this scene from the The OC (which is Season 2's last episode *sobs*)tonight,

Summer: Marissa you gotta tell me what's going on between you and Trey. The weird bruise on your neck, the bad excuses, the weird tension with him..
Marissa: No, it's nothing. Really. I don't wanna talk about it.
Summer: But I'm your best friend! If there's anything at all I'm the one you should turn to!
*Marissa finally breaks down*
*Summer goes forward to hug her*

That really stirred something in me. Oh, trust The OC to be that hauntingly familiar again.

I always wished I can talk freely about myself. Let my thoughts, my emotions, my issues flow freely from my lips-but I can't. I think I'm handicapped, because I'm born without the ability to articulate my feelings. They're all bottled deep in the frayed heart, piling comfortably one of top of the other. Occasionally I have this overwhelming urge to speak my heart to a select few, but words have been rendered useless. They get stuck at my throat, mid-sentence, and I'd try desperately to coverup with a weak joke or a different topic altogether.

People have been telling me about this more often now, which is prolly a very very ominous sign. I'm thankful that these wonderful friends I have are never frustrated with my disability, or I would be left alone to my devices long ago-which would inevitably lead to what else but self-destruction.

Now I really wonder, if I need some psychiatric help. But it's kinda ironic don't you think-that I should pour my sorrows to a shrink, a complete stranger, a person who's professional ethics go head-on with my personal values, about my inability to pour out my sorrows to people I love? Of course I can't, and won't do it.

So you ask me if I'm scared and confused. I'm not, because I know very well where my life's heading to. If New York symbolises dreams and hopes and love, I'm gonna travel fast down the other direction-into the dark wasteland of desolation and eternal solitude.

I will try harder to be a better person, but resignation has began seeping in through the gaps in the frayed heart. I'm just a very sad girl who gets emotional over nothing and just can't seem to explain why. |

It's effing Ladies Night!!

Sigh. It's been so long. I'm so severely deprived of fun, I'm becoming a major blockhead myself. I barely speak 10 sentences in school nowadays, out of sheer exhaustion, stress, anxiety...you name it. The only times I smile is when Fifi speaks to me, but even that has it's limited effects.

I keep telling myself, "You only live life once stupid!", and finding excuses to throw Bio away, ring up any loyal kakis, pack my school uniform into my bag, hop down to Devil's Bar, firmly plant myself there till 6am, and then maybe head to school for that dreaded paper. If I survive the hangover that is.

And I wanna dance with Daffy like hell!!

Ah well that's a different story all together *wink wink*

Okay okay, it's the last paper tomorrow. I should give it my all. But after prelims, comes horrid results, after which comes A levels, and then the long dreadful waiting for the results. This never ends people. So excuse me while I get to my secret stash. (: |

Vortex of Confoundment.

You don't look at old, disgustingly happy photographs of yourself and then embark on a self-reprimanding session.

You don't go, "Look how damn happy you were once!! Only 18 and you look like a darn fossil of a witch! Is morbidness something to be proud of?? Is it??"

You don't proceed to extract his photographs and realise your smiles used to be rather compatible. You could be the Sunshine Twins! And you don't finally realise why you never caught his eye- because all you're capable of doing since entering NJ is to frown, scowl, cry and frown some more.

You don't start all the self-loathing just from looking at mundane photographs.

You don't spend your time dwelling on him anymore, because if youth is that precious, you've squandered your entire fortune on him-and are now bankrupt.


But you do. |

Hold My Hand Even As We Burn In Hell

I'm highly stressed, so I'm eating my words about "Goodbye" for good.

But well, this post won't likely be seen anyway-being hidden behind that pathetic goodbye note I managed to muster in my searing heartache for you all. We shall see. Sorry for that. Once again, I beseech you to ask nothing of what happened. I will move on.

I will. Even if it's all I ever do.

On lonely, frustrating, desolate nights, I wish like hell I hadn't burn my bridges. Because annoying and silly as they were, they readily provided me with unconditional companionship, care and love that I need to breathe as air. As much as I hate to admit, I miss them. Him especially, who has the same namesake as the beloved.

Oh, all that entertaining verbal sparring, infantile teasings and mock tantrums made me smile like I had good company with me all over again. We met under really ridiculous, laughter-inducing conditions, but hit it off very well. Both are equally immature I guess. Heh heh. He was a great friend, until....*sigh*. And I lost his number since I lost my precious hp (which was eons ago I know), and didn't bother to get it from him since I blocked him from MSN and obviously has no other means of communicating him.

Now he's offline, and I'm on the brink of insanity again. Sheessshhh!!!! And where's Free Willy??? The ever so accomodating friend that always make me laugh at his attempts to calm me down? I have his number, but I've never ever sms-ed him or msg-ed him voluntarily in the months of friendship. And Tay!!! Gosh, we're always too busy for each other-so he's never around when I needed him the most. But well, I'd die for him now. And Des! This one, I miss the most. Because 2 years ago, when we were as close as Siamese twins, he'd let me bite his forearm, pinch him, pull his ears, stomp on his feet, throw hissy fits when I was upset. He was one of the bestest friends!

Fifi-sigh. This one will never be there for me, as much as I loved him. I guess where all the unreciprocated love I direct to him and 52 goes, is back to those who haunt me even in nightmares.

Now I shall promise myself never to delete this entry, because it shall serve to remind me of how frantic, how desperate, how miserable I am when I practically lazed the whole of Prelims away. Serves you right Vic! Now you're incoherent, yearning very badly and feeling lonely as hell. Look at the goddamn time! Omfg! You just can't go to sleep, because listening to your fingers dancing "Tap, tap, tap" is just therapeutic no? You're typing non-stop, probably churning out the longest, most meaningless entry in record time! You should go down in the blogging annals as the Most Inane Blogger! You actually get a kick outta talking to yourself eh? You think you're a great monologue-ist eh? You sick woman!

Yes, I think you should just stuff your head in the microwave ala Sylvia Plath's brilliant suicide. Only then, you'll be labelled as a cheap faker of the greatest poet ever, because you can't even write stuff that people understand! SO PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, GO MAKE SOMETHING CONSTRUCTIVE OUT OF YOUR SCREWED DUMP OF A LIFE.

and stop stooping so low as to complaining to yourself. You arent even ranting to your readers (if you still have any), but to your damn self. You're crazy. Go seek professional help, yo!













I'm so frickin tired and scared. This is a very desperate and loud plea for encouragement, support and care from everyone out there who has a heart for me. I love you, so will you love me? |

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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