Of course, you poor wonderful people! Feeling lonely, upset, neglected, alone, ostracized by your friends? Well, fret not! Stacy's always here with a smile to ease your aching heart! Pour out your troubles to her and weep and wail, she won't mind because she's just that saintly! Isn't it just great? A sympathy robot to confide in? Anytime you need a friend, just msn her! She's always online anyway! She won't expect anything in return anyway.
Just for you to listen to her and not change the subject abruptly when it's her turn to rant like you did.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
My interest in the Johari window thing has been revived, since now everyone's doing it... eheh. Results so far:
able, accepting, adaptable, bold, complex, confident, dignified, independent, ingenious, knowledgeable, logical, observant, quiet, reflective, relaxed, self-assertive, silly, witty.
I still don't understand why. I like to do self-analysis, which makes sense as my intrapersonal skills are so much better than my interpersonal skills, but this seems weird.
I'm not really accepting, as you can see from how I bitched about crab just now. ^^;
Able? Where did you guys get that from? I'm just really really kiasu.
Adaptable - I still dislike St. Nicks, so not really...
Bold? How?
Complex. Well, actually I'm just a simple person with deceivingly simple thoughts. eheh.
Confident. Maaaaybe. But I'll still be shy little Stacy, no matter what happens.
Dignified. I don't really know. Comments?
Independent. XD ahaha no way!
Ingenious. I just get the occasional brainwave. If I were that ingenious, I'd be acing Maths, I mean, c'mon.
I'm too lazy to type out the rest. But I'm not really observant, at least not as much as you guys may think. I can be absolutely blur at times.
able, accepting, adaptable, bold, complex, confident, dignified, independent, ingenious, knowledgeable, logical, observant, quiet, reflective, relaxed, self-assertive, silly, witty.
I still don't understand why. I like to do self-analysis, which makes sense as my intrapersonal skills are so much better than my interpersonal skills, but this seems weird.
I'm not really accepting, as you can see from how I bitched about crab just now. ^^;
Able? Where did you guys get that from? I'm just really really kiasu.
Adaptable - I still dislike St. Nicks, so not really...
Bold? How?
Complex. Well, actually I'm just a simple person with deceivingly simple thoughts. eheh.
Confident. Maaaaybe. But I'll still be shy little Stacy, no matter what happens.
Dignified. I don't really know. Comments?
Independent. XD ahaha no way!
Ingenious. I just get the occasional brainwave. If I were that ingenious, I'd be acing Maths, I mean, c'mon.
I'm too lazy to type out the rest. But I'm not really observant, at least not as much as you guys may think. I can be absolutely blur at times.
It's song addiction time!
http://www.superseventies.com/sl_leanonme.html
Lean On Me by Bill Withers is la goodness. Does anyone have the mp3, cos the midi isn't very fulfilling. Maybe my mum or dad has the CD. It was really big when she was in her teens, apparently, so yeah.
Well, go here: http://www.angelfire.com/stars2/personalhoroscopes/someofmyfavoritesongspage4.html
If you want to listen to some other midis. Gosh, I love those old songs.
I know my previous post was rather bitchy. Gah, I hate it when that happens.
I'm feeling chocalatey.
Oh, bother, I want hockey competitions. I want to get into the school team. I want i want i want
-to transfer to anderson! whee.
http://www.superseventies.com/sl_leanonme.html
Lean On Me by Bill Withers is la goodness. Does anyone have the mp3, cos the midi isn't very fulfilling. Maybe my mum or dad has the CD. It was really big when she was in her teens, apparently, so yeah.
Well, go here: http://www.angelfire.com/stars2/personalhoroscopes/someofmyfavoritesongspage4.html
If you want to listen to some other midis. Gosh, I love those old songs.
I know my previous post was rather bitchy. Gah, I hate it when that happens.
I'm feeling chocalatey.
Oh, bother, I want hockey competitions. I want to get into the school team. I want i want i want
-to transfer to anderson! whee.
I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. The emoticon cried.
Nah, forget that, but anyway! Score for Stacy and down goes the crab. Not down my stomach, psh. That would be disgusting, metaphor-wise. Otherwise crab would be rather welcome down my throat. But yeah, in metaphoric terms, I've finally got the crab off my back. At least, I hope. Crab crab crab, a very anticipated farewell!
We got a, well, adequately good score for our history chart - 22/30. 73%, 2% short of an A1, but I'm happy nonetheless.
BUT, our presentation sucked. Not to point fingers, but some people who seem extrovert-esque in real life can't present for the hell of it.
I'm not a good speaker, but just thought I'd point it out. I was honestly pissed when we were done. Obviously we'll get less than 14 marks for our presentation.
And, will it be safe to say that I'm being torn from my athiest faith? Recently I read a book that contradicted evolutionism, and it had rather good points, though I can't judge because I have never read a book that contradicts creationism/is about evolutionism. Yet. I shall decide when I find a pretty source for evolutionism. Meh, any spelling errors?
And according to Nick, Christian gatherings seem rather fun.
ALSO, Robyn and I walk past a Christian ( I think) Church every Sunday, and they have fun looking gatherings.
So perhaps Christians aren't the rigid prudes I think them to be.
Hmm.
I tried out for the long jump and triple jump, just because I didn't have anything else to try out for now that I'd missed the track events. God, I nearly passed the qualifying mark! But my landing was over the board, all three times I tried, so I didn't get in anyway.
And, I just experienced this first-hand: it's so not nice to be used. Or rather, ordered about. Being told, -yes, told, not asked- to do stupid things like accompanying you to the toilet or being told it's my frickin fault your correction tape was lost (maybe I shouldn't have asked classmates to pass it to you, but it's not my whole fault if the tape got lost on the way across the classroom), well, it's not my fault. And to be your anger-venting board just because the group you want to join for a project doesn't want to accept you as a member, bleh. I'm glad, in a petty, bitchy way, that I got my revenge. With petty means, of course.
I can be such a bitch sometimes. =/
It's so easy to scare off bullies. The tooth for a tooth method seems to always work. What scares them most, they use to scare others.
Unlike good Christians, I am not a forgiving person.
I remember that at the start of 2005, when I had the floral layout (yes, I know how stupid floral layouts are, but that one was SPESHUL, dammit) for my blog, I resolved to become a devoted Christian. Because my mum's Christian, and that apparently makes me one by default... blah.
I'm going to have to review this whole religion thing.
So far Clarissa and Si-Ning have, err, expressed their wishing for me to 'accept Christ'.
It's hard to believe there's a guy up there controlling our lives like frickin puppets.
But I'll think about it.
Nah, forget that, but anyway! Score for Stacy and down goes the crab. Not down my stomach, psh. That would be disgusting, metaphor-wise. Otherwise crab would be rather welcome down my throat. But yeah, in metaphoric terms, I've finally got the crab off my back. At least, I hope. Crab crab crab, a very anticipated farewell!
We got a, well, adequately good score for our history chart - 22/30. 73%, 2% short of an A1, but I'm happy nonetheless.
BUT, our presentation sucked. Not to point fingers, but some people who seem extrovert-esque in real life can't present for the hell of it.
I'm not a good speaker, but just thought I'd point it out. I was honestly pissed when we were done. Obviously we'll get less than 14 marks for our presentation.
And, will it be safe to say that I'm being torn from my athiest faith? Recently I read a book that contradicted evolutionism, and it had rather good points, though I can't judge because I have never read a book that contradicts creationism/is about evolutionism. Yet. I shall decide when I find a pretty source for evolutionism. Meh, any spelling errors?
And according to Nick, Christian gatherings seem rather fun.
ALSO, Robyn and I walk past a Christian ( I think) Church every Sunday, and they have fun looking gatherings.
So perhaps Christians aren't the rigid prudes I think them to be.
Hmm.
I tried out for the long jump and triple jump, just because I didn't have anything else to try out for now that I'd missed the track events. God, I nearly passed the qualifying mark! But my landing was over the board, all three times I tried, so I didn't get in anyway.
And, I just experienced this first-hand: it's so not nice to be used. Or rather, ordered about. Being told, -yes, told, not asked- to do stupid things like accompanying you to the toilet or being told it's my frickin fault your correction tape was lost (maybe I shouldn't have asked classmates to pass it to you, but it's not my whole fault if the tape got lost on the way across the classroom), well, it's not my fault. And to be your anger-venting board just because the group you want to join for a project doesn't want to accept you as a member, bleh. I'm glad, in a petty, bitchy way, that I got my revenge. With petty means, of course.
I can be such a bitch sometimes. =/
It's so easy to scare off bullies. The tooth for a tooth method seems to always work. What scares them most, they use to scare others.
Unlike good Christians, I am not a forgiving person.
I remember that at the start of 2005, when I had the floral layout (yes, I know how stupid floral layouts are, but that one was SPESHUL, dammit) for my blog, I resolved to become a devoted Christian. Because my mum's Christian, and that apparently makes me one by default... blah.
I'm going to have to review this whole religion thing.
So far Clarissa and Si-Ning have, err, expressed their wishing for me to 'accept Christ'.
It's hard to believe there's a guy up there controlling our lives like frickin puppets.
But I'll think about it.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Post 480.
Bajeebus!
It's like this blog's on blog-viagra or something. I happen to like stuffed rats, Cheryl, if you read this. :3
All rodents breed like they're on viagra, I just realized the irony of my previous sentence, which was initially not meant to be linked to the preceding sentence. Well, rodents sort of have viagra in their blood. Darr, these rodents are horny. =X
Now, why the heck is an innocent young maiden like me talking about viagra? And horny rodents with viagra bred in the blood?
Oh. My blog. www.asofterworld.com
Well, you'd be amazed. It's a brill website.
www.gaiaonline.com shall have its praises sung by me till kingdom come.
YES THEY ARE RELATED YES I DO HAVE A COHERENT MIND YES YES YES.
Just to confirm the questions I know some people must be asking.
WHY AM I SO ABSTRACT AND WEIRD AND CRAZY I DON'T KNOW DON'T ASK ME MY MIND WORKS LINGUISTICALLY IN A MATHEMATICAL WAY THAT'S IT THAT'S IT THAT'S IT!
Because all the cool geeks/linguistically cool people are doing it, I shall do so too. I shall hereby give my verdict on the sex videos incident:
IT'S PERFECTLY FINE YOU PRUDES. JUST MAKE SURE THE PERSON IN THE VIDEO CONSENTS TO IT. HARMING YOUNG INNOCENT CHILDREN SURFING THE NET? WELL, IF THEY WERE THAT INNOCENT TO BEGIN WITH, THEY WOULDN'T EVEN BE WATCHING THE VIDEOS IN THE FIRST PLACE. PFFT.
There. Maybe I shall elaborate, but not today. No surreh.
On with... well, what shall I say next? MY MIND IS BURSTING JUST GIVE ME TIME!
Well, firstly, I need a drink. Secondly, I have this urge to have a nice fun light-hearted conversation with someone. Thirdly, I have homework to do, and I don't know what. Fourthly, I miss my primary school. Yes, all over again. It's a v.i.c.i.o.u.s.c.y.c.l.e. Fifthly, I don't like people who make sweeping statements without at least admitting that their claims are rather general.
Sixthly? Oh sixthly sixthly. Oh yeah, I don't like the number six, I've just realized. I don't like getting 16/20, even if it's a good mark. I don't like getting 36/40, even if it's a good mark. However, I am fine with getting 17/20 or 15/20 etc.
Pet peeve, ask naught.
Alright. I shall now comment on Cheryl's latest post. =X
Bajeebus!
It's like this blog's on blog-viagra or something. I happen to like stuffed rats, Cheryl, if you read this. :3
All rodents breed like they're on viagra, I just realized the irony of my previous sentence, which was initially not meant to be linked to the preceding sentence. Well, rodents sort of have viagra in their blood. Darr, these rodents are horny. =X
Now, why the heck is an innocent young maiden like me talking about viagra? And horny rodents with viagra bred in the blood?
Oh. My blog. www.asofterworld.com
Well, you'd be amazed. It's a brill website.
www.gaiaonline.com shall have its praises sung by me till kingdom come.
YES THEY ARE RELATED YES I DO HAVE A COHERENT MIND YES YES YES.
Just to confirm the questions I know some people must be asking.
WHY AM I SO ABSTRACT AND WEIRD AND CRAZY I DON'T KNOW DON'T ASK ME MY MIND WORKS LINGUISTICALLY IN A MATHEMATICAL WAY THAT'S IT THAT'S IT THAT'S IT!
Because all the cool geeks/linguistically cool people are doing it, I shall do so too. I shall hereby give my verdict on the sex videos incident:
IT'S PERFECTLY FINE YOU PRUDES. JUST MAKE SURE THE PERSON IN THE VIDEO CONSENTS TO IT. HARMING YOUNG INNOCENT CHILDREN SURFING THE NET? WELL, IF THEY WERE THAT INNOCENT TO BEGIN WITH, THEY WOULDN'T EVEN BE WATCHING THE VIDEOS IN THE FIRST PLACE. PFFT.
There. Maybe I shall elaborate, but not today. No surreh.
On with... well, what shall I say next? MY MIND IS BURSTING JUST GIVE ME TIME!
Well, firstly, I need a drink. Secondly, I have this urge to have a nice fun light-hearted conversation with someone. Thirdly, I have homework to do, and I don't know what. Fourthly, I miss my primary school. Yes, all over again. It's a v.i.c.i.o.u.s.c.y.c.l.e. Fifthly, I don't like people who make sweeping statements without at least admitting that their claims are rather general.
Sixthly? Oh sixthly sixthly. Oh yeah, I don't like the number six, I've just realized. I don't like getting 16/20, even if it's a good mark. I don't like getting 36/40, even if it's a good mark. However, I am fine with getting 17/20 or 15/20 etc.
Pet peeve, ask naught.
Alright. I shall now comment on Cheryl's latest post. =X
Oh my god, I hate Elizabeth.
I mean, I hate Elizabeth E. Wein.
She ruined a perfectly normal book with horrible, undeveloped robot-like characters. I hate her. SRSLY!!!1 Gah. Never, ever be taken in by the things critics say about books. They said stuff like: "A gorgeously imagined and wildly exciting historical narrative!" -- Kirkus Reviews.
Well, duh. Not. The prose was fairly pretty, but the story line was hopelessly not exciting. I was like, 'oh'. She couldn't get me to care for her characters. Unoriginal. Cheesy, unprecedented romances where they SUDDENLY fall in love with each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!111
As you can see, my standards have gone a lot higher.
Pfft. Even I can do better than her where characterization is concerned. I'm not good with plots, I admit, but I can develop my characters, whereas she doesn't care a jot for hers.
Doing geog now.
I got 10/20 for my MEP test, for the second time. It's going to pull my overall term 1 grade down, but hopefully these lifesaving 100%, 90% etc. for lit will balance the entire thing. I did pretty well for my other subjects. Well, not exactly well, but good enough.
Oh, and did I mention?
I GOT 36/40 FOR THE MATHS CLASS TEST. AHAHA. I PWN YOU ALL!
-cough- I know, incredible. The first time I've got an A1 for Maths... -awe- But sadly, it's just a class test, so it's not graded. I had 37 at first, which is a far nicer number, but I had to minus one mark because Mrs. Soh marked it wrongly. Gragh.
I mean, I hate Elizabeth E. Wein.
She ruined a perfectly normal book with horrible, undeveloped robot-like characters. I hate her. SRSLY!!!1 Gah. Never, ever be taken in by the things critics say about books. They said stuff like: "A gorgeously imagined and wildly exciting historical narrative!" -- Kirkus Reviews.
Well, duh. Not. The prose was fairly pretty, but the story line was hopelessly not exciting. I was like, 'oh'. She couldn't get me to care for her characters. Unoriginal. Cheesy, unprecedented romances where they SUDDENLY fall in love with each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!111
As you can see, my standards have gone a lot higher.
Pfft. Even I can do better than her where characterization is concerned. I'm not good with plots, I admit, but I can develop my characters, whereas she doesn't care a jot for hers.
Doing geog now.
I got 10/20 for my MEP test, for the second time. It's going to pull my overall term 1 grade down, but hopefully these lifesaving 100%, 90% etc. for lit will balance the entire thing. I did pretty well for my other subjects. Well, not exactly well, but good enough.
Oh, and did I mention?
I GOT 36/40 FOR THE MATHS CLASS TEST. AHAHA. I PWN YOU ALL!
-cough- I know, incredible. The first time I've got an A1 for Maths... -awe- But sadly, it's just a class test, so it's not graded. I had 37 at first, which is a far nicer number, but I had to minus one mark because Mrs. Soh marked it wrongly. Gragh.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
My bladder has been rather active today. At least 3 mad dashes to the toilet, even when I didn't drink anything.
Okay, you didn't need to know that.
They are overloading us with hw!!!!1 I mean, SRSLY!!!
I think green tea does induce pseudo-diarrhoea. Did I just make a scientific hypothesis, or is it already a theory/law? Well, I've read a newspaper article stating that green tea can take the stink out of shoes. But, I mean, who'd want to water the insides of their shoes with green tea?
And I like socks that stink. It's a rather seductive scent, don't you think?
Everyone is racist, seriously, if people don't stop being paranoid.
I think I'm going to make a new blogskin. Wait, I've already made a new blogskin. I just haven't put it up yet. I'm having doubts. Oh, well. I've got lots of stuff to print. -gonkgonkgonk-
My printer is low on ink and we are running low on paper. Abort, abort, abort!
And sometimes, I wonder for the sanity of mankind, and ACSI boys, and me. Do you know how many penguins die each year?
My gawd I am going crazy. We discussed at least two projects tonight. I feel so messed up. So many conversation boxes. Emily wanted to borrow my history. Melissa wants to know the post-war natural increase. Mary-Anne and I chat about everything. Kerina's sort of hounding me for the Geog, and we're bitching about some people in our geog group.
Is it suddenly hip to praise God?
No offence to Christians and Catholics, but it's like... nevermind. I'm being unreasonable.
Unholy shit, it's 10pm already. Rush. Bah. Maths! Science! Blahblahblah! I want to read my book, dammit.
Okay, you didn't need to know that.
They are overloading us with hw!!!!1 I mean, SRSLY!!!
I think green tea does induce pseudo-diarrhoea. Did I just make a scientific hypothesis, or is it already a theory/law? Well, I've read a newspaper article stating that green tea can take the stink out of shoes. But, I mean, who'd want to water the insides of their shoes with green tea?
And I like socks that stink. It's a rather seductive scent, don't you think?
Everyone is racist, seriously, if people don't stop being paranoid.
I think I'm going to make a new blogskin. Wait, I've already made a new blogskin. I just haven't put it up yet. I'm having doubts. Oh, well. I've got lots of stuff to print. -gonkgonkgonk-
My printer is low on ink and we are running low on paper. Abort, abort, abort!
And sometimes, I wonder for the sanity of mankind, and ACSI boys, and me. Do you know how many penguins die each year?
My gawd I am going crazy. We discussed at least two projects tonight. I feel so messed up. So many conversation boxes. Emily wanted to borrow my history. Melissa wants to know the post-war natural increase. Mary-Anne and I chat about everything. Kerina's sort of hounding me for the Geog, and we're bitching about some people in our geog group.
Is it suddenly hip to praise God?
No offence to Christians and Catholics, but it's like... nevermind. I'm being unreasonable.
Unholy shit, it's 10pm already. Rush. Bah. Maths! Science! Blahblahblah! I want to read my book, dammit.
Gragh. I shall have to find a song lyric with the name Nick in it.
We talked about our pet birds yesterday, and why we liked pets.
The concert report is pissing me off.
But I'm happy happy happy because I've got a new book (OMG) and a Chinese assessment book and a new pen.
Well, not that happy.
I had a nice cheese pancake today. It cost $1.10 from Mr. Bean. And Yakult. Can't remember the last time I had Yakult. And on the way back from Han, Robyn and I had a conversation about what our old ZPS campus/Pei Cai Sec old campus looked like. 6-7 years ago. Neither of us seem to remember much. I miss my memories.
If my speech seems stilted, you know I'm feeling either very happy, or very depressed. Guess which. Ignore paragraph 4.
Dear God, can you give me a camera? Or make my parents get me one? Thank you.
I'd like one with a really really high resolution. And that's meant for shaky-handers like me. Because I love taking photographs.
I've completed the geog and hist indiv. assignments. The hist on Friday, geography this morning at 12am or so. I'm so darn hardworking. Pythagoras Theorem completed long ago. Concert Report is horrid, but it's more or less finished anyway. Now I have the Chinese li shi left, and something else I've forgotten. -gonk-
In the meantime, I'd like your imput on this:
http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=12348943&
Danke.
We talked about our pet birds yesterday, and why we liked pets.
The concert report is pissing me off.
But I'm happy happy happy because I've got a new book (OMG) and a Chinese assessment book and a new pen.
Well, not that happy.
I had a nice cheese pancake today. It cost $1.10 from Mr. Bean. And Yakult. Can't remember the last time I had Yakult. And on the way back from Han, Robyn and I had a conversation about what our old ZPS campus/Pei Cai Sec old campus looked like. 6-7 years ago. Neither of us seem to remember much. I miss my memories.
If my speech seems stilted, you know I'm feeling either very happy, or very depressed. Guess which. Ignore paragraph 4.
Dear God, can you give me a camera? Or make my parents get me one? Thank you.
I'd like one with a really really high resolution. And that's meant for shaky-handers like me. Because I love taking photographs.
I've completed the geog and hist indiv. assignments. The hist on Friday, geography this morning at 12am or so. I'm so darn hardworking. Pythagoras Theorem completed long ago. Concert Report is horrid, but it's more or less finished anyway. Now I have the Chinese li shi left, and something else I've forgotten. -gonk-
In the meantime, I'd like your imput on this:
http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=12348943&
Danke.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
I've never thought of it this way before, but -
I think it's better that I stay an introvert. I get real conceited sometimes, when I'm not too shy to talk. All I talk about is myself. And sometimes, when people are forced to do all the listening because all I say goes on and on, self-centered and all, I involuntarily hurt them. Or they find me freaky and stop talking to me.
When I don't talk, I get indifference.
When I do talk... I get too carried away.
It's quite easy to see, from this blog, that I can be very self-centered at times.
I think it's better that I stay an introvert. I get real conceited sometimes, when I'm not too shy to talk. All I talk about is myself. And sometimes, when people are forced to do all the listening because all I say goes on and on, self-centered and all, I involuntarily hurt them. Or they find me freaky and stop talking to me.
When I don't talk, I get indifference.
When I do talk... I get too carried away.
It's quite easy to see, from this blog, that I can be very self-centered at times.
I have come to the conclusion that Singaporean guys have no taste. In girls.
They are hopelessly unoriginal, though, when it comes to fashion sense. Cargo pants with a fairly tight/very baggy t-shirt. Sometimes with a metal chain.
And though they always manage to look good in these (unless they're fat or something), it's getting very cliche. Not that I mind much.
I met an elderly Malaysian man with blue eyes. Somehow I doubt his use of contacts. He was speaking in Chinese. I don't understand Chinese. He was lost. I couldn't show him the way. Because he only knew the Chinese names of streets. Poor guy. I think he was rather aimless. He was dressed all in white, and was rather skinny.
They are hopelessly unoriginal, though, when it comes to fashion sense. Cargo pants with a fairly tight/very baggy t-shirt. Sometimes with a metal chain.
And though they always manage to look good in these (unless they're fat or something), it's getting very cliche. Not that I mind much.
I met an elderly Malaysian man with blue eyes. Somehow I doubt his use of contacts. He was speaking in Chinese. I don't understand Chinese. He was lost. I couldn't show him the way. Because he only knew the Chinese names of streets. Poor guy. I think he was rather aimless. He was dressed all in white, and was rather skinny.
What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other word would smell as sweet...
Juliet, Romeo and Juliet, II.ii.43
I want to go to America and see breathing pork. Because sometimes it's just so easy to have misconceptions. Samuel Taylor Colderidge wrote Kubla Khan but lost it. Just keep on keepin' on!
I like my gaia avatar, and my art file. Pei Hwa got 9/10 for the shading, highest in the level. I bet everyone expected Weng Jun to get the mark. Well, yet another artist emerges.
There's no blemish but the mind. :3
By any other word would smell as sweet...
Juliet, Romeo and Juliet, II.ii.43
I want to go to America and see breathing pork. Because sometimes it's just so easy to have misconceptions. Samuel Taylor Colderidge wrote Kubla Khan but lost it. Just keep on keepin' on!
I like my gaia avatar, and my art file. Pei Hwa got 9/10 for the shading, highest in the level. I bet everyone expected Weng Jun to get the mark. Well, yet another artist emerges.
There's no blemish but the mind. :3
473
I am feeling hungry. I didn't have a proper dinner (barely one eighth of an egg, and fish, with less rice than I am accustomed to), and the mini cake and drink I just had are now weighing heavily in my stomach... I think the cake was too rich. You know that nauseating feeling you get in the pit of your stomach whenever you eat food that's too creamy or something, and the nausea just rises up into your throat as if you're going to vomit it all out? Well, that's how I feel. Fucking cake, shouldn't have eaten it. I want meat omg I want meat meat meat meat protein. MEAT. OMG MEAT MEAT MEAT. HUNGRRRRRRRRY.
Btw, I have the fugue in E minor from Bach's Well Tempered Claviers Volume I. I listened to the song before the day it was tested in the MEP test, heh. Coincidence, I swear.
Bach is one of my new idols, I must declare.
Recently I have finally decided to use one of the notebooks Robyn gave me for my 13th birthday, which, I must say, was one of the best days I've ever had. If I'm not wrong, I celebrated quite finely at my Grammar's house. XD But that's beside the point.
lalala LALA
Fugue in E minor can't find my head exit.
Oh well, let's bring on the lovely Fugue in G Minor. I suppose Robyn's right. Fugues are interesting little things. It's just not fun to memorize all the technical terms of the music. Takes all the joy out of music.
My homework is resting dolefully on my desk. It is staring at me with a thousand fragile papery eyes of ink, pleading me to fill their jars of blanks to the brim with intelligence and precise strokes of pen, pencil, quill.
But I shall commence on the morrow.
Some people aren't meant to be writers. Like me, for example. My mind can effortlessly turn dozens of literary cartwheels in a dizzying affair of prose and observance, but logic seldom plays a part in my plots.
And others just suck.
It just pisses me off when I see a n00b writer, I don't know why. It's not their fault they suck at writing, but I just get irritated. I tend to regard them as 'enthu wannabes'.
Badinerie is waltzing in a swift fake midi.
My printer is giving me hell, and I have two overdue library books. Joy, joy, joy.
MEAT MEAT MEAT.
I think I'll have to settle for instant noodles.
Btw, I have the fugue in E minor from Bach's Well Tempered Claviers Volume I. I listened to the song before the day it was tested in the MEP test, heh. Coincidence, I swear.
Bach is one of my new idols, I must declare.
Recently I have finally decided to use one of the notebooks Robyn gave me for my 13th birthday, which, I must say, was one of the best days I've ever had. If I'm not wrong, I celebrated quite finely at my Grammar's house. XD But that's beside the point.
lalala LALA
Fugue in E minor can't find my head exit.
Oh well, let's bring on the lovely Fugue in G Minor. I suppose Robyn's right. Fugues are interesting little things. It's just not fun to memorize all the technical terms of the music. Takes all the joy out of music.
My homework is resting dolefully on my desk. It is staring at me with a thousand fragile papery eyes of ink, pleading me to fill their jars of blanks to the brim with intelligence and precise strokes of pen, pencil, quill.
But I shall commence on the morrow.
Some people aren't meant to be writers. Like me, for example. My mind can effortlessly turn dozens of literary cartwheels in a dizzying affair of prose and observance, but logic seldom plays a part in my plots.
And others just suck.
It just pisses me off when I see a n00b writer, I don't know why. It's not their fault they suck at writing, but I just get irritated. I tend to regard them as 'enthu wannabes'.
Badinerie is waltzing in a swift fake midi.
My printer is giving me hell, and I have two overdue library books. Joy, joy, joy.
MEAT MEAT MEAT.
I think I'll have to settle for instant noodles.
Friday, February 24, 2006
I want to get one of these fine-tipped inky pens. Sooo pretty, the words. It's Friday. I think later I'll walk to Hock and get one. I've got a shitload of homework to do, you know, concert report which is due Monday and all. Geog and Hist indivual responses, and etc.
12.5/15 for my Bio test. Man, I rock. I fucked up today's history test. C'mon, I'm a freaking idiot. I mistook the map of Malaya for the one of the Straits of Malacca, when I spent so much darn time on the maps! And sheesh, my answers were too damned short. I think I did okay for the picture inference and the source based questions.
As for the lit test today, well... I tried to be a smart ass and include the word dedente in my answer. I thought I'd heard the word somewhere before, and I had a rough idea of the meaning. But heck! I freaking spelt it wrongly! It's detente, not dedente, and people are going to think of me as an attention-seeking smart aleck. See detente:
http://m-w.com/cgi-bin/dictionary?va=detente
But other than that small discrepancy, I think I did okay for the lit, though I'm quite unsure of my answers. It was easy though, overall. I had to edit a lot. No correction tape allowed. Cancellations galore!
Western flames?
Oh yeah. Fort Minor, oh freaking Fort Minor. Love! :heart:
Gaia is addictive, I just wish I had friends on there.
And yeah, funny, there's more than one stooge from 1Faith05. I know 2, so far.
'ships with people. Get in one? Oh, I don't know, but then I just can't do the solo.
I think I shall update my introduction.
12.5/15 for my Bio test. Man, I rock. I fucked up today's history test. C'mon, I'm a freaking idiot. I mistook the map of Malaya for the one of the Straits of Malacca, when I spent so much darn time on the maps! And sheesh, my answers were too damned short. I think I did okay for the picture inference and the source based questions.
As for the lit test today, well... I tried to be a smart ass and include the word dedente in my answer. I thought I'd heard the word somewhere before, and I had a rough idea of the meaning. But heck! I freaking spelt it wrongly! It's detente, not dedente, and people are going to think of me as an attention-seeking smart aleck. See detente:
http://m-w.com/cgi-bin/dictionary?va=detente
But other than that small discrepancy, I think I did okay for the lit, though I'm quite unsure of my answers. It was easy though, overall. I had to edit a lot. No correction tape allowed. Cancellations galore!
Western flames?
Oh yeah. Fort Minor, oh freaking Fort Minor. Love! :heart:
Gaia is addictive, I just wish I had friends on there.
And yeah, funny, there's more than one stooge from 1Faith05. I know 2, so far.
'ships with people. Get in one? Oh, I don't know, but then I just can't do the solo.
I think I shall update my introduction.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS HATE PYTHAGORAS.
Well, not really. Je suis la fille de la monde.
Bite this: Stupid Girls (Clean Version)
As in, the title. Clean version. Prudes, all of them.
'Jesus, Take The Wheel' by Carrie Underwood is la goodness.
Lean Wit It, Rock Wit It by Dem Franchize Boyz - And this is awesome, hands down. Yi bai tu di!
They be real big one day. :3
And I am pining for Fort Minor. You know, the hard melting Buttercup (from Powerpuff Girls) look when she gets it on with that green gang leader, and when she's got that blankie. MELT MELT MELT EM.
Ms Leong was talking about sexual reproduction today. They had it all! Dang, why'd they bother showing us two different diagrams when a hermaphrodite would suffice. XD
Shirley Temple dipped in pudding, oh sweet sweet ice kacang with maple syrup.
I keep seeing the same person these days in school. Today I almost laughed out loud, for some reason.
And I wanted to borrow the biography on Nathaniel Hawthorne but the book couldn't be borrowed. Pfft, it's not as if I was going to ruin the book or anything.
Singlish. Use it. //
Well, not really. Je suis la fille de la monde.
Bite this: Stupid Girls (Clean Version)
As in, the title. Clean version. Prudes, all of them.
'Jesus, Take The Wheel' by Carrie Underwood is la goodness.
Lean Wit It, Rock Wit It by Dem Franchize Boyz - And this is awesome, hands down. Yi bai tu di!
They be real big one day. :3
And I am pining for Fort Minor. You know, the hard melting Buttercup (from Powerpuff Girls) look when she gets it on with that green gang leader, and when she's got that blankie. MELT MELT MELT EM.
Ms Leong was talking about sexual reproduction today. They had it all! Dang, why'd they bother showing us two different diagrams when a hermaphrodite would suffice. XD
Shirley Temple dipped in pudding, oh sweet sweet ice kacang with maple syrup.
I keep seeing the same person these days in school. Today I almost laughed out loud, for some reason.
And I wanted to borrow the biography on Nathaniel Hawthorne but the book couldn't be borrowed. Pfft, it's not as if I was going to ruin the book or anything.
Singlish. Use it. //
I love satires. I think I shall write more of these in the future. It's like a spoof, you know? I like those seemingly proper and polite satires (which they WILL seem like if the reader doesn't understand the subject in ridicule) but have underlying (sometimes subtle, sometimes blatant) sarcasm. Dry voices, paired up with straight faces, bring out the best in 'em. Or that mock goody-two-shoe look.
Our jingle for General Music was something like one.
SNG school socks, 30cm high,
Get them now or Mrs Goh will have your life.
Show your love for St. Ni-i-ick's our school,
Buy the socks that are just so damn cool.
Nah, I didn't write it. //
Not.
Pfft. Not many people seemed to like it, but I do, so it's okay. :evil:
It was a joke, though. I seem remainly hopelessly infatuated with and dedicated to what *sniff* those ankle socked heels deem as 'high socks'.
:D
I've studied for history already! And I have the Pythagoras Triplet thing to do. Oh, sweet lovely fair haired Satan!
With your red monkey butt and fork of doom!
And your horny look! And your bad-ass smirk!
Oh, SHIT. I didn't think of that before. Why don't I make Satan this really hot guy who listens to mp3s and jazz and loves Green Day, and he's going around polluting stuff and... ah... aiding in the bad things in the world for a while.
I absolutely love it.
Blog later.
Our jingle for General Music was something like one.
SNG school socks, 30cm high,
Get them now or Mrs Goh will have your life.
Show your love for St. Ni-i-ick's our school,
Buy the socks that are just so damn cool.
Nah, I didn't write it. //
Not.
Pfft. Not many people seemed to like it, but I do, so it's okay. :evil:
It was a joke, though. I seem remainly hopelessly infatuated with and dedicated to what *sniff* those ankle socked heels deem as 'high socks'.
:D
I've studied for history already! And I have the Pythagoras Triplet thing to do. Oh, sweet lovely fair haired Satan!
With your red monkey butt and fork of doom!
And your horny look! And your bad-ass smirk!
Oh, SHIT. I didn't think of that before. Why don't I make Satan this really hot guy who listens to mp3s and jazz and loves Green Day, and he's going around polluting stuff and... ah... aiding in the bad things in the world for a while.
I absolutely love it.
Blog later.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
I'm the girl who's saving for a sciurus vulgaris. Please donate.
Nick... you think I'm complex, observant, reflective, able, dignified.
Esther (Ng), you think I'm bold, confident, witty, intelligent, logical.
O_O
Hmm. Complex? Maybe I do get confusing at times, but I seem simple to myself. ^^
Observant - to a certain degree, maybe, but not so much. Eheh.
Reflective - this I agree, somewhat.
Able - No suh! XD
Dignified - I... suppose?
Bold? Confident? Maybe I seem like that when I stand up in class to talk, but everytime I do so my heart beats like hell and I'm so darned insecure inside... inward stage fright, hmm.
Witty - You think so? O_O Nah, not really. I'm the most boring person you'll ever meet.
Intelligent - I'm not a moron or anything, but intelligent? Meh. ):
Logical - Hmm. Sort of, I think? But not so much, though. If I were really that logical, I'd ace Math. =D
Well, the above is what I think, that's all. Maybe I'm a stranger to myself.
And this reminds me of something I thought, in a flimsy attempt to understand myself.
It goes something like 'I am a stranger to my body, and my reactions, and my only lucid state is that of my train of thoughts'.
Study for history now. Then Spelling, though I've done most of that already. Blah.
Nick... you think I'm complex, observant, reflective, able, dignified.
Esther (Ng), you think I'm bold, confident, witty, intelligent, logical.
O_O
Hmm. Complex? Maybe I do get confusing at times, but I seem simple to myself. ^^
Observant - to a certain degree, maybe, but not so much. Eheh.
Reflective - this I agree, somewhat.
Able - No suh! XD
Dignified - I... suppose?
Bold? Confident? Maybe I seem like that when I stand up in class to talk, but everytime I do so my heart beats like hell and I'm so darned insecure inside... inward stage fright, hmm.
Witty - You think so? O_O Nah, not really. I'm the most boring person you'll ever meet.
Intelligent - I'm not a moron or anything, but intelligent? Meh. ):
Logical - Hmm. Sort of, I think? But not so much, though. If I were really that logical, I'd ace Math. =D
Well, the above is what I think, that's all. Maybe I'm a stranger to myself.
And this reminds me of something I thought, in a flimsy attempt to understand myself.
It goes something like 'I am a stranger to my body, and my reactions, and my only lucid state is that of my train of thoughts'.
Study for history now. Then Spelling, though I've done most of that already. Blah.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
OMFG I can't believe I missed this:
Quote: "It's like yougn teenage girls (or boys for that matter) gushing over people like Orlando Bloom or Brad Pitt. Why isn't liking someone who's like three-times your age considered a crime?"
http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=12229351
Uh huh uh huh. PRECISELY. Most girls would give anything to kiss/sleep with/marry/etc. Brad Pitt, (cough yuck cough), and yet they slam girls who go out with guys a decade or two older than them.
Someone argue with me on this. I haven't argued with someone in years.
There is nothing wrong with large age differences between couples.
And, btw, society is still sexist.
Quote: "It's like yougn teenage girls (or boys for that matter) gushing over people like Orlando Bloom or Brad Pitt. Why isn't liking someone who's like three-times your age considered a crime?"
http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=12229351
Uh huh uh huh. PRECISELY. Most girls would give anything to kiss/sleep with/marry/etc. Brad Pitt, (cough yuck cough), and yet they slam girls who go out with guys a decade or two older than them.
Someone argue with me on this. I haven't argued with someone in years.
There is nothing wrong with large age differences between couples.
And, btw, society is still sexist.
Mrs. Sushilla thinks I'm intelligent, and should by more easy going, less tense.
Ooh I'm tense, oh yeah. Well, yeah. I frequently have to tell myself to calm down. Don't panic. Don't hyperventilate. Don't dash to the toilet. Don't be tense. Et cetera.
And, yeah, I'm intelligent. I'm that intelligent girl who's flunking Math, Chinese, Science and MEP. Yes suh. Nah, I'm just very... linguistic. Thassall.
Comment appreciated, though. :heart:
So, I is right! Weng Jun does deem herself a writer. She's halfway into writing a story about a girl with... blond hair? Oh, I don't know, I haven't read all of it yet. Just the first paragraph.
If she has the passion and talent for writing, she could grow to be a really talented person. Good at art, music, and literature. A true renaissance lady! =D
I, unfortunately, don't have what I refer to as the literary 2nd sight. I don't understand poems, and thus can't appreciate all of them.
I have prose on my side, 40%.
But scrap that. You can't measure prose in percentage.
Anyway, back to Weng Jun. Yes, I think she does have the passion. The way she writes her poems... there's some sort of hint in them that denotes an aspiring poet. It doesn't necessarily signify great future talent, but the manner in which she attempts to express the subject, fanciful flair... like this, you know, it's rather obvious.
And I was right! She does consider herself a writer! Man, I'm good. B)
That seemed rather crude. I mean, the smiley.
And of course, Esther Ng, another writer. =D
So, in SNG, I've met/heard of 4 writers/poets:
Rachel Tong
Weng Jun
Esther Ng
Hannah Ng (heard of her. She's rather popular, I think?)
Lit test tomorrow. Bleh~!
Well, I dread lit tests, but somehow when I start writing out the answers, y'know, getting into the momentum, I love every minute of it. Competence beneath my fingers, luv.
So, Maths test is over. At least for this week.
I still need to do history, chi spelling, etc.
Joy in my soul.
Faith in my soul!
I've got faaaaaaaith in mah soul,
I've got faaaaaaith in mah so-ul,
I've got faaaaaith in mah soul
and in mah heart. =D
Last year's unofficial class song. And yes, 'my' is pronounced as 'mah'. From what I remember of it.
and and and-
Hullo Nick! Lots of people say I've got a weird blog, somehow, or that my blogging style is great. /ego
Why's my blog weird?
(question goes out to EVERYONE, not just nick)
Ooh I'm tense, oh yeah. Well, yeah. I frequently have to tell myself to calm down. Don't panic. Don't hyperventilate. Don't dash to the toilet. Don't be tense. Et cetera.
And, yeah, I'm intelligent. I'm that intelligent girl who's flunking Math, Chinese, Science and MEP. Yes suh. Nah, I'm just very... linguistic. Thassall.
Comment appreciated, though. :heart:
So, I is right! Weng Jun does deem herself a writer. She's halfway into writing a story about a girl with... blond hair? Oh, I don't know, I haven't read all of it yet. Just the first paragraph.
If she has the passion and talent for writing, she could grow to be a really talented person. Good at art, music, and literature. A true renaissance lady! =D
I, unfortunately, don't have what I refer to as the literary 2nd sight. I don't understand poems, and thus can't appreciate all of them.
I have prose on my side, 40%.
But scrap that. You can't measure prose in percentage.
Anyway, back to Weng Jun. Yes, I think she does have the passion. The way she writes her poems... there's some sort of hint in them that denotes an aspiring poet. It doesn't necessarily signify great future talent, but the manner in which she attempts to express the subject, fanciful flair... like this, you know, it's rather obvious.
And I was right! She does consider herself a writer! Man, I'm good. B)
That seemed rather crude. I mean, the smiley.
And of course, Esther Ng, another writer. =D
So, in SNG, I've met/heard of 4 writers/poets:
Rachel Tong
Weng Jun
Esther Ng
Hannah Ng (heard of her. She's rather popular, I think?)
Lit test tomorrow. Bleh~!
Well, I dread lit tests, but somehow when I start writing out the answers, y'know, getting into the momentum, I love every minute of it. Competence beneath my fingers, luv.
So, Maths test is over. At least for this week.
I still need to do history, chi spelling, etc.
Joy in my soul.
Faith in my soul!
I've got faaaaaaaith in mah soul,
I've got faaaaaaith in mah so-ul,
I've got faaaaaith in mah soul
and in mah heart. =D
Last year's unofficial class song. And yes, 'my' is pronounced as 'mah'. From what I remember of it.
and and and-
Hullo Nick! Lots of people say I've got a weird blog, somehow, or that my blogging style is great. /ego
Why's my blog weird?
(question goes out to EVERYONE, not just nick)
Monday, February 20, 2006
"A man giving a speech where his voice gets emotional and full of sentiment will be applauded as "righteous" or "passionate". A woman giving a similar kind of speech will be called "bitchy" and "over emotional."
While women can "cry" and "be weak" and whatnot, men are also given a different set of emotions and actions that are "ok" for them to express, but not for girls (this is one reason many people do not take violent girls seriously because they're "just girls"). "
Read ca: http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/viewtopic.php?page=1&t=12275013
'tis good, bebe. French baby, suh, t'sa French baby. Bebe.
---
By the way, I have stumbled upon a new... err, not so new revelation.
I think I'll turn gothesque! :whee:
I should be studying my Chinese spelling now, but pfft. XD
I was thinking how cool it'd be. I've always liked black, especially paired up with silver/navy/dark green. It's so Slytherin. So Malfoy worthy. Oh, I'm joking there, French baby.
And then I still have (but of course) the necklace Robyn gave me for my birthday... 3 years ago. Or so. It's silver and green and so Slytherin like!
I don't like black lipstick. That I'll refrain from.
And I might consider getting those temporary hair dye stuffs. A red streak here and there, for a few days because I'm chicken.
Hoop earrings! Yes! I shall pair the exotic-ness of the Gypsies with the blackness of Goths.
Well, maybe then I shall pierce my virgin ears.
I invented socks in my head. Yes, invented. I can't tell you what it's like because I can't describe it, but-
Oh, what was I thinking. This whole thing is a fluke. ):
While women can "cry" and "be weak" and whatnot, men are also given a different set of emotions and actions that are "ok" for them to express, but not for girls (this is one reason many people do not take violent girls seriously because they're "just girls"). "
Read ca: http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/viewtopic.php?page=1&t=12275013
'tis good, bebe. French baby, suh, t'sa French baby. Bebe.
---
By the way, I have stumbled upon a new... err, not so new revelation.
I think I'll turn gothesque! :whee:
I should be studying my Chinese spelling now, but pfft. XD
I was thinking how cool it'd be. I've always liked black, especially paired up with silver/navy/dark green. It's so Slytherin. So Malfoy worthy. Oh, I'm joking there, French baby.
And then I still have (but of course) the necklace Robyn gave me for my birthday... 3 years ago. Or so. It's silver and green and so Slytherin like!
I don't like black lipstick. That I'll refrain from.
And I might consider getting those temporary hair dye stuffs. A red streak here and there, for a few days because I'm chicken.
Hoop earrings! Yes! I shall pair the exotic-ness of the Gypsies with the blackness of Goths.
Well, maybe then I shall pierce my virgin ears.
I invented socks in my head. Yes, invented. I can't tell you what it's like because I can't describe it, but-
Oh, what was I thinking. This whole thing is a fluke. ):
MEP test today was relatively easier as compared to the other test, but I'm still flunking, yo. Teo Liang doesn't like MEP tests either! Hahah, oh dear sweet yayness. Smilies represent danger, especially this smiley:
(:
It represents those sickly sweet tarts. Think cream, cream, cream all the way, cringe wince flinch, and then you got it.
We missed our lit test today, but Mrs. Sushilla says we might have it on Wednesday, during TW. Might. I'll have to tell the class tomorrow. Whee, fun fun fun.
Thor's Day. (de Rhys) (de Verve) (de Cradle) ulcer on cold blue lips of sky: tinny barren RENAISSANCE
I've been listening to more an' more classical music these days, ehh.
resolutions
For NAPFA, that is.
Orright.
Situps - 60+ [or as many as I can]
Pull ups - 25+ [or as many as I can]
2.4km - Not more than 13 minutes, preferably around 12 minutes.
Shuttle run - Not more than 10 seconds.
Standing Broad Jump - Err. As long as it's a B, that's fine.
Sit and Reach - Ditto.
That'd be ideal, yeah. I'm aiming for gold.
And hopefully when I'm in sec 3 I can get the consecutive gold for 3 years award.
And maybe when I'm in sec 4 I'll be able to get the consecutive gold for 4 years award.
Here comes Stacy!
(:
It represents those sickly sweet tarts. Think cream, cream, cream all the way, cringe wince flinch, and then you got it.
We missed our lit test today, but Mrs. Sushilla says we might have it on Wednesday, during TW. Might. I'll have to tell the class tomorrow. Whee, fun fun fun.
Thor's Day. (de Rhys) (de Verve) (de Cradle) ulcer on cold blue lips of sky: tinny barren RENAISSANCE
I've been listening to more an' more classical music these days, ehh.
resolutions
For NAPFA, that is.
Orright.
Situps - 60+ [or as many as I can]
Pull ups - 25+ [or as many as I can]
2.4km - Not more than 13 minutes, preferably around 12 minutes.
Shuttle run - Not more than 10 seconds.
Standing Broad Jump - Err. As long as it's a B, that's fine.
Sit and Reach - Ditto.
That'd be ideal, yeah. I'm aiming for gold.
And hopefully when I'm in sec 3 I can get the consecutive gold for 3 years award.
And maybe when I'm in sec 4 I'll be able to get the consecutive gold for 4 years award.
Here comes Stacy!
Sunday, February 19, 2006
I rock more than you do. *evil face*
Because my art file just PWNS, bebe! Add an accent to each of the 'e's in 'bebe', and you got a French baby. Yes, an awful, squealing wailing shitting bebe that no sane person should ever want. Scrunch nose.
Neh! I don't understand why a husband and wife would smile at each other lovingly in pure innocent untainted godly baby-induced marital bliss when the foetus kicks the wife's stomach. Stupid happytreefriends voyeurs. Heck, I'd scream if some wailing thing kicked my precious digestive organ.
I can't believe the wife is actually happy when someone kicks her.
Gosh, I should go around kicking the stomachs of pregnant women.
---
Stefi was talking about babies just now, you see. Thank goodness she didn't ask how babies were made.
Because my art file just PWNS, bebe! Add an accent to each of the 'e's in 'bebe', and you got a French baby. Yes, an awful, squealing wailing shitting bebe that no sane person should ever want. Scrunch nose.
Neh! I don't understand why a husband and wife would smile at each other lovingly in pure innocent untainted godly baby-induced marital bliss when the foetus kicks the wife's stomach. Stupid happytreefriends voyeurs. Heck, I'd scream if some wailing thing kicked my precious digestive organ.
I can't believe the wife is actually happy when someone kicks her.
Gosh, I should go around kicking the stomachs of pregnant women.
---
Stefi was talking about babies just now, you see. Thank goodness she didn't ask how babies were made.
I just returned from my Chinese newspaper report on the Islam comic thingey, and I can't help but notice that Singapore is a very passive place when it comes to things that don't directly concern them.
The Islams in Singapore (thankfully!) don't seem to be joining their fellow peace-loving Islams in Africa etc. in protests. Then I guess there're no Danish people here to trample. Oh, wait, doesn't Singapore have a Danish Embassy? No?
Please note that the above paragraph was not meant to offend anyone, anything, whatever. I do not discriminate against Islams.
Shucks. Ever since the whole racist-bloggers issue, I've been afraid to say anything without a disclaimer. The government has stepped in to assure us that freedom of speech (cough) is okay, just must be responsible hor! Ironic contradiction. But you know, us kiasu Singaporean bloggers, once bitten, twice shy... No way we're gonna risk anything.
Then again, maybe one day I'll post a post angrily flaming those mother fucking __________ (insert religion/race), just for kicks. You know, to see if anyone notices (!) and reports me.
But anyway! Like I said, Singapore is a very passive place when it comes to things not directly concerning them. French have riots all the time. Must be the Saxon blood. Or something. Bleh, I don't know. (DISCLAIMER: I love France and its people and I love French, that's why I'm learning the language. I AM NOT PREJUDICED AGAINST FRANCE OR THE FRENCH. Sheesh!)
You know, how come the Islams are protesting against like, the whole government or something? (cough, sorry, I'm not well informed) When TT Durai was exposed (No. Dirty. Thoughts.) we all slammed him, and people continued donating to NKF anyway. The whole saga was mainly directed at one person and his lackeys. Yet in this Islam comic thing, the one they should be screaming at should be the one who drew the comic, not the whole freaking nation!
It's not fair that people should have to suffer because of one brilliant artist. I personally think it was very brave of him to draw something that he probably knew/suspected would cause controversy, just that he bit off more than he could chew, that's all.
Because my mind is still swarming with thoughts of the 911 conspiracy theory, I can't help but feel that the whole thing was fabricated by the Danish government so they could have an excuse to imprison the Islams. Classic case of power racism! woot! Like Hitler, suh.
"He is one of the very few European politicians with guts. If anyone deserves a prize for his valiant defence of freedom of speech and freedom of the press, it is certainly Mr Rasmussen. He did not give in to pressure from Muslim fanatics, nor from the appeasers at the UN, the European Commission and the Council of Europe. In the past weeks Denmark has shown that all is not yet lost in Europe. If something is rotten now it is not in Denmark."
http://michellemalkin.com/archives/004413.htm
"I think it's important that the West stands up on this issue: if we cave into Muslim demands for self-censorship, our freedom of speech will be taken away forever."
Brave guy! Go, freedom of speech, go!
Ooh. Something like this would never happen in Singapore. I mean, no riots, because ALL Singaporeans (yes, ALL, I'm not pinpointing any religions) are too afraid to get their hands dirty, and because the government would put them all in jail afterwards. All people would do is send in many, many emails and letters to newspapers and argue like orgasming pigs on The Straits Times Online Forum (or something like that), but that's all they'll do. No riots (though that's a good thing, violence is bad), no one openly suing whoever drew whatever comics, stuff like that. People will blog and blog and blog (cough) and chat incessantly for weeks, and then the thing will blow over.
Just like that.
No slogans and posters pasted up on lamp posts, walls, clubs, shopping centers etc. proclaiming how we should all unite as a country and protest against blah blah blah.
Because Singaporeans are just physically passive like that. (except in bed, I guess)
I'm a hypocrite, you know. I've been talking about myself all this while.
Maybe I should do something. Suggestions?
The Islams in Singapore (thankfully!) don't seem to be joining their fellow peace-loving Islams in Africa etc. in protests. Then I guess there're no Danish people here to trample. Oh, wait, doesn't Singapore have a Danish Embassy? No?
Please note that the above paragraph was not meant to offend anyone, anything, whatever. I do not discriminate against Islams.
Shucks. Ever since the whole racist-bloggers issue, I've been afraid to say anything without a disclaimer. The government has stepped in to assure us that freedom of speech (cough) is okay, just must be responsible hor! Ironic contradiction. But you know, us kiasu Singaporean bloggers, once bitten, twice shy... No way we're gonna risk anything.
Then again, maybe one day I'll post a post angrily flaming those mother fucking __________ (insert religion/race), just for kicks. You know, to see if anyone notices (!) and reports me.
But anyway! Like I said, Singapore is a very passive place when it comes to things not directly concerning them. French have riots all the time. Must be the Saxon blood. Or something. Bleh, I don't know. (DISCLAIMER: I love France and its people and I love French, that's why I'm learning the language. I AM NOT PREJUDICED AGAINST FRANCE OR THE FRENCH. Sheesh!)
You know, how come the Islams are protesting against like, the whole government or something? (cough, sorry, I'm not well informed) When TT Durai was exposed (No. Dirty. Thoughts.) we all slammed him, and people continued donating to NKF anyway. The whole saga was mainly directed at one person and his lackeys. Yet in this Islam comic thing, the one they should be screaming at should be the one who drew the comic, not the whole freaking nation!
It's not fair that people should have to suffer because of one brilliant artist. I personally think it was very brave of him to draw something that he probably knew/suspected would cause controversy, just that he bit off more than he could chew, that's all.
Because my mind is still swarming with thoughts of the 911 conspiracy theory, I can't help but feel that the whole thing was fabricated by the Danish government so they could have an excuse to imprison the Islams. Classic case of power racism! woot! Like Hitler, suh.
"He is one of the very few European politicians with guts. If anyone deserves a prize for his valiant defence of freedom of speech and freedom of the press, it is certainly Mr Rasmussen. He did not give in to pressure from Muslim fanatics, nor from the appeasers at the UN, the European Commission and the Council of Europe. In the past weeks Denmark has shown that all is not yet lost in Europe. If something is rotten now it is not in Denmark."
http://michellemalkin.com/archives/004413.htm
"I think it's important that the West stands up on this issue: if we cave into Muslim demands for self-censorship, our freedom of speech will be taken away forever."
Brave guy! Go, freedom of speech, go!
Ooh. Something like this would never happen in Singapore. I mean, no riots, because ALL Singaporeans (yes, ALL, I'm not pinpointing any religions) are too afraid to get their hands dirty, and because the government would put them all in jail afterwards. All people would do is send in many, many emails and letters to newspapers and argue like orgasming pigs on The Straits Times Online Forum (or something like that), but that's all they'll do. No riots (though that's a good thing, violence is bad), no one openly suing whoever drew whatever comics, stuff like that. People will blog and blog and blog (cough) and chat incessantly for weeks, and then the thing will blow over.
Just like that.
No slogans and posters pasted up on lamp posts, walls, clubs, shopping centers etc. proclaiming how we should all unite as a country and protest against blah blah blah.
Because Singaporeans are just physically passive like that. (except in bed, I guess)
I'm a hypocrite, you know. I've been talking about myself all this while.
Maybe I should do something. Suggestions?
Saturday, February 18, 2006
I just realized something. I have come to associate many guys as immature, horny, n00bish brats, always on the lookout for hotties with breasts, (note my use of words, with which I aim to denote the fact that they see girls as not girls, but things weighing no more than 40kg, yet managing to have chests the size of four coconuts, two for each section). Okay, fine, I'm generalizing and exaggerating, but you see my point.
I have met guys who're the exact opposite, though. Just thought I'd say a word in their defense.
Thus I was rather... surprised... to see a guy's msn nickname professing his crush on an unnamed girl. I'd always thought he was just another of the horny-guy category, willing to cyber with anything that breathed.
Not to say he isn't just another horny guy. He might, I dunno, I've never met him. I'm just surprised guys can actually focus their attention/feelings on one girl alone.
Media and books are too influential, at least on me. And past experiences.
I have met guys who're the exact opposite, though. Just thought I'd say a word in their defense.
Thus I was rather... surprised... to see a guy's msn nickname professing his crush on an unnamed girl. I'd always thought he was just another of the horny-guy category, willing to cyber with anything that breathed.
Not to say he isn't just another horny guy. He might, I dunno, I've never met him. I'm just surprised guys can actually focus their attention/feelings on one girl alone.
Media and books are too influential, at least on me. And past experiences.
Friday, February 17, 2006
I do not like hypocrites, or rather, I do not like people whose hypocritical nature rears its head all too often, and none too subtly. Everyone is hypocritical and sadistic, in a certain sense, to a certain degree, just some people much more than others.
I had lots to blog about. I'm not sure if my mind's managed to contain all of these. I think I shall divide my post into sections, to make things easier.
On a sidenote, because my fingers kept slipping on the keyboard, I kept typing 'sextions' instead of 'sections' for a while.
English:
9/10 for my lit reflection: Should Varma be allowed to die?
Frankly, I thought it was pure shit. Cliche all the way, horribly unoriginal, and poorly disguised with suffocatingly flowery prose.
Mrs. Sushilla seemed to like it though, praising me for having a 'good grasp of English'. I'll admit to that, to a certain extent, but I'm not as much of a deep thinker as that 90% seems to indicate.
Amazingly, Dong Ran too received a 9/10.
When I marked her lit essay (everyone had to 'mark' someone else's reflection before they handed it in for good) I gave her a 6.5/10, or something like it. Perhaps her blatant use of chatspeak in her reflection threw me off and prevented me from looking further into what she was trying to convey, but blah.
Are my standards high, or are Mrs. Sushilla's standards low?
Mrs. Sushilla's a real nice teacher, for the most part, and while she isn't the strictest, I'm sure she's well versed in English.
And yet I remain convinced that my essay is a whole shitload of repetitive crap.
Each to her own, eh.
There's a lot of homework.
BUT! I shall conquer, as always, because there is a driving force compelling me to do so... even if it's at the eleventh hour. Perhaps I should say twenty-third hour. It sounds more logical, since the day has 24 hours.
My hockey skills are all going bam bam bam down the rocky cliff into the panicky ravine. Or chasm. Rift. Canyon. Gorge.
Engorged and livid it is, evening serenades with unusually high pitches.
Clara is talking about bees.
In her msn nickname.
As in, LITERALLY you sickos.
Should I do homework to-night? In my state of excess lethargy which is rather unusual at 10.40pm for an owl like me, I doubt I'll get any quality work done.
Oh sheesh, I sound like some stuffy cracked up professor on pot.
But I guess I always do.
Anyway, recently in class we've been talking about tiny Malaysian bananas, banana-mutilation, pins stuck into bananas (you know, voodooish and all), people having extensive knowledge of bananas.
It was quite funny.
Now homework calls. And I still -
I had lots to blog about. I'm not sure if my mind's managed to contain all of these. I think I shall divide my post into sections, to make things easier.
On a sidenote, because my fingers kept slipping on the keyboard, I kept typing 'sextions' instead of 'sections' for a while.
English:
9/10 for my lit reflection: Should Varma be allowed to die?
Frankly, I thought it was pure shit. Cliche all the way, horribly unoriginal, and poorly disguised with suffocatingly flowery prose.
Mrs. Sushilla seemed to like it though, praising me for having a 'good grasp of English'. I'll admit to that, to a certain extent, but I'm not as much of a deep thinker as that 90% seems to indicate.
Amazingly, Dong Ran too received a 9/10.
When I marked her lit essay (everyone had to 'mark' someone else's reflection before they handed it in for good) I gave her a 6.5/10, or something like it. Perhaps her blatant use of chatspeak in her reflection threw me off and prevented me from looking further into what she was trying to convey, but blah.
Are my standards high, or are Mrs. Sushilla's standards low?
Mrs. Sushilla's a real nice teacher, for the most part, and while she isn't the strictest, I'm sure she's well versed in English.
And yet I remain convinced that my essay is a whole shitload of repetitive crap.
Each to her own, eh.
There's a lot of homework.
BUT! I shall conquer, as always, because there is a driving force compelling me to do so... even if it's at the eleventh hour. Perhaps I should say twenty-third hour. It sounds more logical, since the day has 24 hours.
My hockey skills are all going bam bam bam down the rocky cliff into the panicky ravine. Or chasm. Rift. Canyon. Gorge.
Engorged and livid it is, evening serenades with unusually high pitches.
Clara is talking about bees.
In her msn nickname.
As in, LITERALLY you sickos.
Should I do homework to-night? In my state of excess lethargy which is rather unusual at 10.40pm for an owl like me, I doubt I'll get any quality work done.
Oh sheesh, I sound like some stuffy cracked up professor on pot.
But I guess I always do.
Anyway, recently in class we've been talking about tiny Malaysian bananas, banana-mutilation, pins stuck into bananas (you know, voodooish and all), people having extensive knowledge of bananas.
It was quite funny.
Now homework calls. And I still -
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
censorship is censored
Omfg, she has actually started to type in more or less semi-perfect English! If you'll look at her blog posts, you'll see that the latest two posts are typed in semi-perfect Anglais, while the rest of the old posts are in horrible chatspeak.
Congratulations, De- dear, you have seen the light.
And happy birthday as well.
Y'all should read this, by the way: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2579495/1/
Katie/Fred fics are marvellous. So light-hearted, perfect reads for people with short attention spans.
I have temporarily given up on writing. I just cannot convey what I want to convey. It's very frustrating; like you're dumb and you want to speak, but you can't.
And, oh. My. Fucking. God. The dateline for submitting our commonwealth essays is over! I can't submit mine anymore! Ah, sheesh. I guess I'll have to wait 'til next year, eh?
But on the bright side, I can submit my short stories to the English dept.'s Inspiration Magazine, where according to Mrs Lee, "all the best stories go". If my story gets in, let's see where I'll rank among the SNG writers. Surely I can't be the only writer, if a rather sporadic one, in the school - apart from Rachel Tong and maybe Weng Jun and Esther Ng. I'm not sure if the latter two consider themselves writers or not.
Hm, Weng Jun seems to fancy herself a writer. She's not too bad, plenty of room for improvement, I say. She likes to show stuff, display them, tell stories, you know? I guess that's one of the perks of being an artist/writer. You have this pressing urge to show your readers things. Yet from a comment she made today on the Maths rhyme thing, I'm under the impression that she thinks all poems/songs should rhyme, otherwise they suck, by default.
Poems don't need to rhyme. I had that drilled into me since I was a sprightly young primary 6, eheh. Just thought I'd point it out.
And the Science CT is this Friday, yet I forgot to bring home my Science file, where all my main notes are. Fuckin hell. All I have is my unreliable Science textbook and my notebook, which contrary to what mlcf has said, is not the most convenient thing.
Damn the world!
Congratulations, De- dear, you have seen the light.
And happy birthday as well.
Y'all should read this, by the way: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2579495/1/
Katie/Fred fics are marvellous. So light-hearted, perfect reads for people with short attention spans.
I have temporarily given up on writing. I just cannot convey what I want to convey. It's very frustrating; like you're dumb and you want to speak, but you can't.
And, oh. My. Fucking. God. The dateline for submitting our commonwealth essays is over! I can't submit mine anymore! Ah, sheesh. I guess I'll have to wait 'til next year, eh?
But on the bright side, I can submit my short stories to the English dept.'s Inspiration Magazine, where according to Mrs Lee, "all the best stories go". If my story gets in, let's see where I'll rank among the SNG writers. Surely I can't be the only writer, if a rather sporadic one, in the school - apart from Rachel Tong and maybe Weng Jun and Esther Ng. I'm not sure if the latter two consider themselves writers or not.
Hm, Weng Jun seems to fancy herself a writer. She's not too bad, plenty of room for improvement, I say. She likes to show stuff, display them, tell stories, you know? I guess that's one of the perks of being an artist/writer. You have this pressing urge to show your readers things. Yet from a comment she made today on the Maths rhyme thing, I'm under the impression that she thinks all poems/songs should rhyme, otherwise they suck, by default.
Poems don't need to rhyme. I had that drilled into me since I was a sprightly young primary 6, eheh. Just thought I'd point it out.
And the Science CT is this Friday, yet I forgot to bring home my Science file, where all my main notes are. Fuckin hell. All I have is my unreliable Science textbook and my notebook, which contrary to what mlcf has said, is not the most convenient thing.
Damn the world!
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
http://delenoir.blogspot.com/
Mlcf will very possibly give me a tongue-lashing tomorrow.
I find it's easier to be a pessimist; it helps you prepare for stuff.
The realist, as opposed to its literal meaning, gives me cold feet. *shivers*
Not realism itself, but the effects of being a realist.
I am going to stay off the internet till Saturday.
Till then, adieu, dear friends, as I bravely venture with blood-stained sword and cigarette-reeking holster, into the tawny mane of the lion's lair. Let's hope said lion doesn't discover me in the neck of its cave, eh?
EDIT: I think, on the other hand, that I shall come online for a short while tomorrow, to wish Delphine a happy birthday. It always pays to be polite, even if we have somehow morphed into enemies.
Mlcf will very possibly give me a tongue-lashing tomorrow.
I find it's easier to be a pessimist; it helps you prepare for stuff.
The realist, as opposed to its literal meaning, gives me cold feet. *shivers*
Not realism itself, but the effects of being a realist.
I am going to stay off the internet till Saturday.
Till then, adieu, dear friends, as I bravely venture with blood-stained sword and cigarette-reeking holster, into the tawny mane of the lion's lair. Let's hope said lion doesn't discover me in the neck of its cave, eh?
EDIT: I think, on the other hand, that I shall come online for a short while tomorrow, to wish Delphine a happy birthday. It always pays to be polite, even if we have somehow morphed into enemies.
There's this guy who added me on msn. His nickname is Asher, and his asl is 15/m/usa or summat like that. I. Do. Not. Know. Him.
Yeah so anyway our conversation went something like this
Asher:
hello
Me:
hey
Asher:
asl
Me:
13/f/Singapore
Asher:
15/m/usa
Asher:
whats ur bra size
Me:
i'm not too sure
Me:
never bothered to check
Me:
why?
Asher:
can i cum on ur hair
Me:
what's 'cum'?
Asher - offline.
Ehh. Weirdo.
And YES I do know what 'cum' means. I'm not that -err, uneducated- about... such matters.
I was just trying to piss him off. >_> Or get him off my back. Either way, it worked, didn't it? Because boys can't be bothered or don't know or are too embarrassed to explain what 'cum' means.
I mean, if he said 'it's when a guy orgasms and blah blah blah' I'd Laugh. Out. Loud.
Like this: LOL.
Well, yeah.
Circus monkey.
Yeah so anyway our conversation went something like this
Asher:
hello
Me:
hey
Asher:
asl
Me:
13/f/Singapore
Asher:
15/m/usa
Asher:
whats ur bra size
Me:
i'm not too sure
Me:
never bothered to check
Me:
why?
Asher:
can i cum on ur hair
Me:
what's 'cum'?
Asher - offline.
Ehh. Weirdo.
And YES I do know what 'cum' means. I'm not that -err, uneducated- about... such matters.
I was just trying to piss him off. >_> Or get him off my back. Either way, it worked, didn't it? Because boys can't be bothered or don't know or are too embarrassed to explain what 'cum' means.
I mean, if he said 'it's when a guy orgasms and blah blah blah' I'd Laugh. Out. Loud.
Like this: LOL.
Well, yeah.
Circus monkey.
Alright, I've practised my pieces on for the whole of Sunday night, yesterday night from 10.30-11, and around 1 hour today. If later on my fingers get cold feet and go all haywire, that's luck, that's life, and it's not my fault even if my piano teacher thinks and accuses me of not practising. My conscience is clear.
There.
It's kind of weird, seeing Shu Wei again as a 17 year old, no longer our 16 year old house captain. She's now more flippant about dress codes and stuff, if I'm not wrong. And Mrs Lee is actually in Blue house. Yuck.
I wanna audition for javelin,100m, 200m and the long jump. Fine, I have little training in all four aspects, but there's no harm in trying and hey, maybe I can skip one or two piano lessons.
I went to Parkway with Sher Linn, Uncle Lim and 'Auntie Kelly' last night. Lounged around in MPH, had steak, went to a cafe, not in that order. It was pretty chilled out, nothing very eventful, but nice. Uncle Lim owes me 50 cents from 9 years ago, btw.
I swear I had a nice long introspective post planned out word by word in my head, but it's all vanished now. She racks through brain shelves of memories, trying to find something suitable to blog about.
I made a horrific Lian Pu today.
Oh yeah! Yesterday I did my Maths homework on the bus home. You know what? I completed it. You know what? When you're doing homework on the bus, time seems to pass by really quickly. I finished my homework a few stops before my stop, and when I got down, I was all... whoa. You see, the whole of two bus trips seemed to only take FIVE minutes, though in reality it musta taken about half an hour. Time morphs into a freefalling bird when you're engrossed.
And today, guess quoi. I'd finished my lunch (by 10.40pm! Aha!) and was heading, my poor lonesome self, to the blessed library, and as usual I was rather occupied with my thoughts on the way there. Somehow I wondered, what if I were sauntering down the corridor with one of my old primary school friend (let's take, for example, Pei Ying), chatting animatedly, blah blah blah. And THEN, what if, we suddenly saw none other than Delphine and Pei Ying (excitedly) called out, "Hi Delphine!"
And Delphine would have no choice but to stop, and she and I will inwardly roll our eyes because we don't like each other, and she will talk to Pei Ying while ignoring me. And then I will talk to Pei Ying while ignoring her. And etc. Nowadays we keep ignoring each other (it's rather comical, if you look at it from a different POV) for some reason I have mysteriously been rendered ignorant of. O Lord, put Adam in your imaginary Garden!
Basically I don't know why she dislikes me, blah. The female mind is hard to fathom, as is the poet's mind. *shifty eyes*
Anyway, let us continue lest you be bored. If you are already, go away, a- ahem, donkey hole. So, as I was saying, just as I was about to ascend the short flight of steps (with the pretty wooden banister) to the library, who should emerge from the toilet but Delphine!
I know, what a lovely coincidence. *huggles*
bletchsqueeyuck.
It really is an honour for you if I dedicate almost half of a blog post to you. Because my blog is just that cool.
*cough*
There.
It's kind of weird, seeing Shu Wei again as a 17 year old, no longer our 16 year old house captain. She's now more flippant about dress codes and stuff, if I'm not wrong. And Mrs Lee is actually in Blue house. Yuck.
I wanna audition for javelin,100m, 200m and the long jump. Fine, I have little training in all four aspects, but there's no harm in trying and hey, maybe I can skip one or two piano lessons.
I went to Parkway with Sher Linn, Uncle Lim and 'Auntie Kelly' last night. Lounged around in MPH, had steak, went to a cafe, not in that order. It was pretty chilled out, nothing very eventful, but nice. Uncle Lim owes me 50 cents from 9 years ago, btw.
I swear I had a nice long introspective post planned out word by word in my head, but it's all vanished now. She racks through brain shelves of memories, trying to find something suitable to blog about.
I made a horrific Lian Pu today.
Oh yeah! Yesterday I did my Maths homework on the bus home. You know what? I completed it. You know what? When you're doing homework on the bus, time seems to pass by really quickly. I finished my homework a few stops before my stop, and when I got down, I was all... whoa. You see, the whole of two bus trips seemed to only take FIVE minutes, though in reality it musta taken about half an hour. Time morphs into a freefalling bird when you're engrossed.
And today, guess quoi. I'd finished my lunch (by 10.40pm! Aha!) and was heading, my poor lonesome self, to the blessed library, and as usual I was rather occupied with my thoughts on the way there. Somehow I wondered, what if I were sauntering down the corridor with one of my old primary school friend (let's take, for example, Pei Ying), chatting animatedly, blah blah blah. And THEN, what if, we suddenly saw none other than Delphine and Pei Ying (excitedly) called out, "Hi Delphine!"
And Delphine would have no choice but to stop, and she and I will inwardly roll our eyes because we don't like each other, and she will talk to Pei Ying while ignoring me. And then I will talk to Pei Ying while ignoring her. And etc. Nowadays we keep ignoring each other (it's rather comical, if you look at it from a different POV) for some reason I have mysteriously been rendered ignorant of. O Lord, put Adam in your imaginary Garden!
Basically I don't know why she dislikes me, blah. The female mind is hard to fathom, as is the poet's mind. *shifty eyes*
Anyway, let us continue lest you be bored. If you are already, go away, a- ahem, donkey hole. So, as I was saying, just as I was about to ascend the short flight of steps (with the pretty wooden banister) to the library, who should emerge from the toilet but Delphine!
I know, what a lovely coincidence. *huggles*
bletchsqueeyuck.
It really is an honour for you if I dedicate almost half of a blog post to you. Because my blog is just that cool.
*cough*
Sunday, February 12, 2006
our lives a mimicry
--
racism;
2 : racial prejudice or discrimination
From www.m-w.com
Alright, I admit, I'm a racist.
Nanananananananana
--
racism;
2 : racial prejudice or discrimination
From www.m-w.com
Alright, I admit, I'm a racist.
Nanananananananana
Being in the sports class must be so damn cool. It's different from being in the MEP class, I mean, sports has a certain flair. It kinda puts an imaginary swagger into your step, makes you feel proud of yeself, because it's... you know, sports. And popularity comes with it too, sometimes. I don't know why, but I think being a sports player -whether you're in the sports class or not- instantly elevates you to the status of coolness.
I'm an exception, duh, but the others... yeah.
Ruffle that skirt and strike a pose.
Read the post below as well.
I'm an exception, duh, but the others... yeah.
Ruffle that skirt and strike a pose.
Read the post below as well.
Post 450.
I like to think of myself as graffiti, a culture collage, embarrassment, and New York. It's all so urban, city-chic, so cafe on a street in Paris, or Boston, or a beach bar in California and the statue of liberty, so New York City Cab or London Taxi.
I just want to travel.
It's so hard for me to express myself in Chinese. I'd call it experimental, the way I dab about in stuff and breeze over a mediocre essay. It's simple - I merely don't care. It's like I don't give a damn because I know I have my sweet English to hang on to, when all else falls, but I still don't trust it because I haven't tested out every bar of English yet. I could just, like Mufasta, hang on to the wrong type of hope and collapse anyway into the stampede.
But I shall stick to English, and photography, and dancing, and singing, because if I still have my pen, my camera, my feet and my voice, I shall enjoy life to its last breath till I dance on into death, or heaven, or -god forbid- the next life.
Now, that's an interesting thought. Life dying, instead of us dying.
Fictionpress Romance is crappy because it's all mediocre writers. It's rather rare, if you find a good, decent beautiful non-cliche story that melts or freezes all your emotions into one place and keeps it there, and when the story ends the ice all melts and it's like your emotions are newly born, bare to the world for the first time, and to relish the novelty of it, it all starts pouring out and maybe you start crying.
Manipulation isn't all that difficult, but it's not easy either.
Wannamaker had his dreams, and I have mine, and they're not fragile, so don't worry.
I like to think of myself as graffiti, a culture collage, embarrassment, and New York. It's all so urban, city-chic, so cafe on a street in Paris, or Boston, or a beach bar in California and the statue of liberty, so New York City Cab or London Taxi.
I just want to travel.
It's so hard for me to express myself in Chinese. I'd call it experimental, the way I dab about in stuff and breeze over a mediocre essay. It's simple - I merely don't care. It's like I don't give a damn because I know I have my sweet English to hang on to, when all else falls, but I still don't trust it because I haven't tested out every bar of English yet. I could just, like Mufasta, hang on to the wrong type of hope and collapse anyway into the stampede.
But I shall stick to English, and photography, and dancing, and singing, because if I still have my pen, my camera, my feet and my voice, I shall enjoy life to its last breath till I dance on into death, or heaven, or -god forbid- the next life.
Now, that's an interesting thought. Life dying, instead of us dying.
Fictionpress Romance is crappy because it's all mediocre writers. It's rather rare, if you find a good, decent beautiful non-cliche story that melts or freezes all your emotions into one place and keeps it there, and when the story ends the ice all melts and it's like your emotions are newly born, bare to the world for the first time, and to relish the novelty of it, it all starts pouring out and maybe you start crying.
Manipulation isn't all that difficult, but it's not easy either.
Wannamaker had his dreams, and I have mine, and they're not fragile, so don't worry.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Friday, February 10, 2006
Firstly, I'd like to point out that this week has flown past in a flurry of barren heads and lined up nicknames for rememberance and sentimentality and lines that make a lot of sense.
I just remembered something I wanted to blog about at least a week ago. Whee!
During assembly, 3J was announced as the sec3 winner of the CNY decor competition. Their representative went up to the stand. We were in a good position to see the representative. One of the 2G girls (probably the bimbo with rebonded hair that looks horrible) was all, "Socks so hiiiigh."
Hey, at least the representative, with her tucked in shirt and 'high' socks, doesn't need to wear ankle socks and the big billowing-out not/semi tucked in shirts that were the fashion icon of the 18th century, to feel 'in', 'accepted', 'cool', or whatever reason. Unlike them.
Bimbos!
Oh, and Mr. Foo blew up in art class today and told all of us to get out of his class. Someone mentioned it as an artist's temper. Haha, I've heard that lots of times, and I LOVE IT. Anyway, writers and artists are in roughly the same line anyway, artistic and all, so would it be okay if I suddenly screamed at all my classmates to get out of the classroom? I think so.
I just remembered something I wanted to blog about at least a week ago. Whee!
During assembly, 3J was announced as the sec3 winner of the CNY decor competition. Their representative went up to the stand. We were in a good position to see the representative. One of the 2G girls (probably the bimbo with rebonded hair that looks horrible) was all, "Socks so hiiiigh."
Hey, at least the representative, with her tucked in shirt and 'high' socks, doesn't need to wear ankle socks and the big billowing-out not/semi tucked in shirts that were the fashion icon of the 18th century, to feel 'in', 'accepted', 'cool', or whatever reason. Unlike them.
Bimbos!
Oh, and Mr. Foo blew up in art class today and told all of us to get out of his class. Someone mentioned it as an artist's temper. Haha, I've heard that lots of times, and I LOVE IT. Anyway, writers and artists are in roughly the same line anyway, artistic and all, so would it be okay if I suddenly screamed at all my classmates to get out of the classroom? I think so.
I've got so much to say!
Simply putting it, I feel asleep last afternoon and woke up this morning to a pile of unfinished homework, and, more importantly, NOT YET STUDIED GEOG NOTES. Of course, last night I didn't get the chance to blog, eat dinner, lovely stuff like that, because I was sleeping.
Anyway, yesterday we'd Lit lesson. Mrs. Sushilla came over and I asked her if we needed to hand in blah blah blah, and she was like, Stacy, you need to be more easy-going.
...
I kind of agree. You see, sometimes I am, sometimes I'm not... mmhm.
Oh, and I've discovered a startling fact. She told me that Mr. Wong told her that I'm apparently a very strong-opinioned person. He deduced that from my blog.
Now, that's all, ah, fine and dandy (>.<), but I've been wondering about the true definition of strong-opinioned. It's good in the sense that I'm bringing my points across in a firm manner (via this blog), but I hope he didn't get the impression that I'm stubborn with my opinions and inflexible.
Yes, I stick very strongly to my thoughts, I debate with myself over logic and reasoning sometimes, but I'm not altogether inflexible. A good debate might be able to change some of my opinions.
Oh, and Mrs. Sushilla wanted my blog URL. I hesitated, and she was all 'if you have any reservations... you can think about it..."
So she gave me some time to 'think over it'. Then at the end of the lesson, she left, supposedly forgetting about the offer. Haha!
---
Oh, I've been reading a book lately about the 7 Types of Intelligence by Thomas Armstrong, something like that. He believes that farmers, cleaners etc. have the same right to the word 'intelligence' as the doctors, lawyers etc. do.
There's kinesthetic intelligence, I hope I've spelt it correctly, and it kinda means you're good in sports, crafts, basically hands on things. There's musical, spatial, linguistic, logical etc. intelligence as well.
Everyone possesses all the 7 intelligences, just some less than others.
OBVIOUSLY my forte would be linguistic intelligence, and surprisingly my musical and spatial intelligences are more developed than I thought they'd be. Music means a lot to me, I hit all the right notes, I'm always humming something or the other, I used to sing a lot in the toilet till I realised people could actually hear me... of course, I'm not at Hui Ting's standard where I can write down the notes according to the pitches I hear. Musical dictation. I suck at that.
As for spatial, yesterday I realized that I actually think in pictures, sort of, in a way. They're very faint though, and they're shy, I can't catch them in action except for yesterday somehow...
And while I don't have a photographic memory, I can accurately remember pictures and faces, well, though I'm familiar with.
Linguistic, ha, of course. While not all that good, it's what I'm best at, naturally.
-
I'd thought of a lot more to blog about, but it's all lost in memory torrents now. I've dinner, anyway.
Simply putting it, I feel asleep last afternoon and woke up this morning to a pile of unfinished homework, and, more importantly, NOT YET STUDIED GEOG NOTES. Of course, last night I didn't get the chance to blog, eat dinner, lovely stuff like that, because I was sleeping.
Anyway, yesterday we'd Lit lesson. Mrs. Sushilla came over and I asked her if we needed to hand in blah blah blah, and she was like, Stacy, you need to be more easy-going.
...
I kind of agree. You see, sometimes I am, sometimes I'm not... mmhm.
Oh, and I've discovered a startling fact. She told me that Mr. Wong told her that I'm apparently a very strong-opinioned person. He deduced that from my blog.
Now, that's all, ah, fine and dandy (>.<), but I've been wondering about the true definition of strong-opinioned. It's good in the sense that I'm bringing my points across in a firm manner (via this blog), but I hope he didn't get the impression that I'm stubborn with my opinions and inflexible.
Yes, I stick very strongly to my thoughts, I debate with myself over logic and reasoning sometimes, but I'm not altogether inflexible. A good debate might be able to change some of my opinions.
Oh, and Mrs. Sushilla wanted my blog URL. I hesitated, and she was all 'if you have any reservations... you can think about it..."
So she gave me some time to 'think over it'. Then at the end of the lesson, she left, supposedly forgetting about the offer. Haha!
---
Oh, I've been reading a book lately about the 7 Types of Intelligence by Thomas Armstrong, something like that. He believes that farmers, cleaners etc. have the same right to the word 'intelligence' as the doctors, lawyers etc. do.
There's kinesthetic intelligence, I hope I've spelt it correctly, and it kinda means you're good in sports, crafts, basically hands on things. There's musical, spatial, linguistic, logical etc. intelligence as well.
Everyone possesses all the 7 intelligences, just some less than others.
OBVIOUSLY my forte would be linguistic intelligence, and surprisingly my musical and spatial intelligences are more developed than I thought they'd be. Music means a lot to me, I hit all the right notes, I'm always humming something or the other, I used to sing a lot in the toilet till I realised people could actually hear me... of course, I'm not at Hui Ting's standard where I can write down the notes according to the pitches I hear. Musical dictation. I suck at that.
As for spatial, yesterday I realized that I actually think in pictures, sort of, in a way. They're very faint though, and they're shy, I can't catch them in action except for yesterday somehow...
And while I don't have a photographic memory, I can accurately remember pictures and faces, well, though I'm familiar with.
Linguistic, ha, of course. While not all that good, it's what I'm best at, naturally.
-
I'd thought of a lot more to blog about, but it's all lost in memory torrents now. I've dinner, anyway.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Poems, honestly, should be left to the lit teachers. And even with the latter, I am doubtful. You see, I scored 6.5/10 for my poem, but that's not what I'm mad about. (Though it was rather ironic, seeing as she stated 'Wow! Nice!' but still gave me an absymal score) The fact is, she didn't even understand what I meant by:
The 'hit' and the 'ler' we'd tossed around
in bitter words, defenestrated
but swinging back like boomerangs.
(See full poem a full posts below)
Alright, I admit it was a little hard to understand, but still.
I'm not saying my poem should get a good mark. I had it coming, since it wasn't all that relevent to the topic anyway. And, I was never a good poet. I know some really good poets online who would probably pass my poems off as mediocre.
It's just that... I've witnessed some crappy poems (not mentioning any names! ha.) getting high high high high scores like HOMG 8/10 and they do not have any structure at all, the lines are totally out, and the rhyming is so obviously forced. I was like, what the fuck? It's all just prose crammed into a poem, and that sucks, seriously.
I hope you understand that it is quite... understandable... for me to be slightly irritated because even if my content wasn't all good, I did work on my structure, and I tried to make the poem rhyme where it should and make it seem abstract in others. Yes, I actually checked to make sure that all lines had the same (or roughly the same) number of syllables, I worked on imagery, and I tried to make it flow.
If all she cares about is the content, well...
Nevermind. Remind me not to work so hard on poems for English class next time. I shall devote my soul to English Literature.
Bah!
Going to RI tomorrow, btw.
The 'hit' and the 'ler' we'd tossed around
in bitter words, defenestrated
but swinging back like boomerangs.
(See full poem a full posts below)
Alright, I admit it was a little hard to understand, but still.
I'm not saying my poem should get a good mark. I had it coming, since it wasn't all that relevent to the topic anyway. And, I was never a good poet. I know some really good poets online who would probably pass my poems off as mediocre.
It's just that... I've witnessed some crappy poems (not mentioning any names! ha.) getting high high high high scores like HOMG 8/10 and they do not have any structure at all, the lines are totally out, and the rhyming is so obviously forced. I was like, what the fuck? It's all just prose crammed into a poem, and that sucks, seriously.
I hope you understand that it is quite... understandable... for me to be slightly irritated because even if my content wasn't all good, I did work on my structure, and I tried to make the poem rhyme where it should and make it seem abstract in others. Yes, I actually checked to make sure that all lines had the same (or roughly the same) number of syllables, I worked on imagery, and I tried to make it flow.
If all she cares about is the content, well...
Nevermind. Remind me not to work so hard on poems for English class next time. I shall devote my soul to English Literature.
Bah!
Going to RI tomorrow, btw.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Post 444.
23.5/25 for history. -hugs myself- 94%!
It isn't the highest mark (I think that's 24 or fullmarks or something) but I'm happyhappyhappy. But my other history assignment only scored 16.5/20. It's a high A1, yeah, but I don't really like anything less than 17. I don't like the number 16. Just a pet peeve.
66/100 for my Chinese compo, and 39/50 for the chinese test. According to sulaoshi, that's the average score for the entire year.
I actually scored an A1 for Chinese! Alright, the test was way, way easy, but ladifrickin'da.
I wonder. Should I rewrite my English essay?
*To the reader, note that I am talking to myself. My readers don't deserve to be talked to. They accept, by default, the fact that they are here to witness my fantastic self-ramblings in this self-centered website that is almost all about me, the minute they enters this blog.
23.5/25 for history. -hugs myself- 94%!
It isn't the highest mark (I think that's 24 or fullmarks or something) but I'm happyhappyhappy. But my other history assignment only scored 16.5/20. It's a high A1, yeah, but I don't really like anything less than 17. I don't like the number 16. Just a pet peeve.
66/100 for my Chinese compo, and 39/50 for the chinese test. According to sulaoshi, that's the average score for the entire year.
I actually scored an A1 for Chinese! Alright, the test was way, way easy, but ladifrickin'da.
I wonder. Should I rewrite my English essay?
*To the reader, note that I am talking to myself. My readers don't deserve to be talked to. They accept, by default, the fact that they are here to witness my fantastic self-ramblings in this self-centered website that is almost all about me, the minute they enters this blog.
Monday, February 06, 2006
toilet paper
She always seemed like the lackey to me, the stooge, the sidekick. I think she's pathetic, the way she disses us and licks their boots. She always bought boots she couldn't fit in, but paraded around in them, looking like a grovelling clown. Stooge stooge stooge. I can't believe it, they way I used to almost admire her. Pretentious, petty- argh.
I like our toilet paper; it's got turquoise dolphin prints on it. Prettay.
Toilet visits are now much anticipated. Yo baby, it's wipe-ass time!
Ahaha. Both meanings, I'm literally ambiguous.
FIGURE. THAT. OUT.
I mean, wait... nah.
I can't wait to graduate.
I'm getting designs. On blogs.
No, I mean-
OMFG, Relient K rocks.
will our jokes still be funny
Cai hua, kai men...
I miss Zhonghua, all of a sudden.
Dolphin-print toilet paper.
I like our toilet paper; it's got turquoise dolphin prints on it. Prettay.
Toilet visits are now much anticipated. Yo baby, it's wipe-ass time!
Ahaha. Both meanings, I'm literally ambiguous.
FIGURE. THAT. OUT.
I mean, wait... nah.
I can't wait to graduate.
I'm getting designs. On blogs.
No, I mean-
OMFG, Relient K rocks.
will our jokes still be funny
Cai hua, kai men...
I miss Zhonghua, all of a sudden.
Dolphin-print toilet paper.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
(knowing everything else is silent)
Silent is a very overused word, but nevermind. Shatter in the silence. No one hears my voice in the painful silence. I call your name... silence. Bleh. Amateur angst-ers.
I suddenly miss primary school. It's a cycle, I'd like to think. Early part of the year, late part of the year, metamorphosize into uncaring fools and then we start remembering again. I don't feel like going back to Zhonghua anymore, knowing that it will not be the p6s2004 but the p6s2005 that will be the priority of the teachers. We'll be forgotten, more or less. No, I still cannot move on, and I don't think I ever will. Though I can't wait to go to JC, preferably RJ or ACJC, depending on my results.
It's like I've fulfilled an obligation.
I wonder if people think I'm a nerd because I type in near-parfait anglais. And imperfect French. Losers. XD
But then, it's not too bad, being a nerd. Nerds don't need to do what the hundred percent average girl does to be reassured, comforted, accepted, et cetera. They seek comfort in the very fact that no one knows who they really are. Nerds like veils, and at the same time, for people to love them. It's rather contradictory.
People keep saying, "omg!!!111 so cheeeeeeeeem!"
It gets tiring, really.
Not to mention ear-threatening.
BLEACH.
Aha. ha. ha.
Emphasize, dahling.
EMPHASIZE. As a writer you need to twist the priorities of your readers via emphasizing.
Or re-enforce them.
You understand, I take it.
If not-
loser.
(:
Bleh. Make 'em go away.
Silent is a very overused word, but nevermind. Shatter in the silence. No one hears my voice in the painful silence. I call your name... silence. Bleh. Amateur angst-ers.
I suddenly miss primary school. It's a cycle, I'd like to think. Early part of the year, late part of the year, metamorphosize into uncaring fools and then we start remembering again. I don't feel like going back to Zhonghua anymore, knowing that it will not be the p6s2004 but the p6s2005 that will be the priority of the teachers. We'll be forgotten, more or less. No, I still cannot move on, and I don't think I ever will. Though I can't wait to go to JC, preferably RJ or ACJC, depending on my results.
It's like I've fulfilled an obligation.
I wonder if people think I'm a nerd because I type in near-parfait anglais. And imperfect French. Losers. XD
But then, it's not too bad, being a nerd. Nerds don't need to do what the hundred percent average girl does to be reassured, comforted, accepted, et cetera. They seek comfort in the very fact that no one knows who they really are. Nerds like veils, and at the same time, for people to love them. It's rather contradictory.
People keep saying, "omg!!!111 so cheeeeeeeeem!"
It gets tiring, really.
Not to mention ear-threatening.
BLEACH.
Aha. ha. ha.
Emphasize, dahling.
EMPHASIZE. As a writer you need to twist the priorities of your readers via emphasizing.
Or re-enforce them.
You understand, I take it.
If not-
loser.
(:
Bleh. Make 'em go away.
Unholy heaven, check this out:
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-5137581991288263801&q=loose+change
AHAHA. Ce pwns. And even if you don't like the content, the music kicks ass.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-5137581991288263801&q=loose+change
AHAHA. Ce pwns. And even if you don't like the content, the music kicks ass.
Saturday, February 04, 2006
CNY today wasn't exactly the best, except maybe for badminton and dinner.
James likes dissecting frogs.
XD
Gordon plays floorball.
Eloquence in hockey. Hmm.
I love the word 'eloquent'.
They left early -- 9.15pm. Gosh. I don't remember ever leaving that early at any dinner party. The earliest would be about 9.30, only because I wanted to get back home fast to Uncle Bernard's party.
Shit. You know, I've just realized that all this while I've been wearing headphones, and the music isn't even on. P.f.f.t.
Emphasize all the syllables, dah-ling. There you go. P.f.f.t.
Ha.
I can't wait till 13th Feb. I think.
My blog posts are becoming less and less introspective, and more on-the-surface. No, I do not have any messages hidden within the lines. Except for a few scattered here and there -- not that you guys would ever be able to figure any of them out. You'd have to think like me write like me breathe like me first And even if you can do all that, it'd be hard, because my mindcar takes several dizzying turns before reaching a final conclusion. These dizzying turns happen in a second or two, or I stumble upon the conclusion in a single instant, so if you ever try to re-figure them out again it'll be practically impossible because what happens in a split second in the mind cannot be analyzed and fished out.
Unless you accidentally stumble upon my thoughts, of course. D'you get my point? It's a split-second thing. Analysis will only dissolve it.
It's so much more fun than raping your turtle.
I haven't yet reached the stage of philosophical nirvana. Or however you spell that freakain thing.
Relient K pwns, yo.
Social life. Lack thereof. I need to move to America where there are cafe bars and really cool clubs and all that jazz. New York, fille.
Why else the filledelamonde?
Oh, I simple pwn.
ED, dear ED, sweet ED, lamp of truth.
Do the brevity thing.
I'll set up a blogsite.
James likes dissecting frogs.
XD
Gordon plays floorball.
Eloquence in hockey. Hmm.
I love the word 'eloquent'.
They left early -- 9.15pm. Gosh. I don't remember ever leaving that early at any dinner party. The earliest would be about 9.30, only because I wanted to get back home fast to Uncle Bernard's party.
Shit. You know, I've just realized that all this while I've been wearing headphones, and the music isn't even on. P.f.f.t.
Emphasize all the syllables, dah-ling. There you go. P.f.f.t.
Ha.
I can't wait till 13th Feb. I think.
My blog posts are becoming less and less introspective, and more on-the-surface. No, I do not have any messages hidden within the lines. Except for a few scattered here and there -- not that you guys would ever be able to figure any of them out. You'd have to think like me write like me breathe like me first And even if you can do all that, it'd be hard, because my mindcar takes several dizzying turns before reaching a final conclusion. These dizzying turns happen in a second or two, or I stumble upon the conclusion in a single instant, so if you ever try to re-figure them out again it'll be practically impossible because what happens in a split second in the mind cannot be analyzed and fished out.
Unless you accidentally stumble upon my thoughts, of course. D'you get my point? It's a split-second thing. Analysis will only dissolve it.
It's so much more fun than raping your turtle.
I haven't yet reached the stage of philosophical nirvana. Or however you spell that freakain thing.
Relient K pwns, yo.
Social life. Lack thereof. I need to move to America where there are cafe bars and really cool clubs and all that jazz. New York, fille.
Why else the filledelamonde?
Oh, I simple pwn.
ED, dear ED, sweet ED, lamp of truth.
Do the brevity thing.
I'll set up a blogsite.
Schweet.
I have developed a love for abstract poetry; in other words, poetry I have to struggle to understand. Or something like it.
We must've pissed Etienne off really bad in French class today.
You know, I'm not all the inner-badass I'd like to be. I still wince when teachers/adults swear. Even if I'm fine with people 'round my age swearing.
That portrait looks horrible.
And people keep missing the 'm'. No, not mushroom. THIS IS RELEVENT. THIS IS SERIOUSLY SERIOUSLY RELEVENT. If you live in Serangoon Gardens and have played badminton with me in front of my house before.
Anita Brookner, oh Anita Brookner. Why'd you have to fuck up the ending of your lovely book.
Max seemed handsome. And you had to...
You know, Max is relevent to the 'm'.
Not technically, I mean.
Alphabetically.
No, I'm getting too abstract here, bleh.
I'll be going downstairs now. For dinner. With my relatives.
I have developed a love for abstract poetry; in other words, poetry I have to struggle to understand. Or something like it.
We must've pissed Etienne off really bad in French class today.
You know, I'm not all the inner-badass I'd like to be. I still wince when teachers/adults swear. Even if I'm fine with people 'round my age swearing.
That portrait looks horrible.
And people keep missing the 'm'. No, not mushroom. THIS IS RELEVENT. THIS IS SERIOUSLY SERIOUSLY RELEVENT. If you live in Serangoon Gardens and have played badminton with me in front of my house before.
Anita Brookner, oh Anita Brookner. Why'd you have to fuck up the ending of your lovely book.
Max seemed handsome. And you had to...
You know, Max is relevent to the 'm'.
Not technically, I mean.
Alphabetically.
No, I'm getting too abstract here, bleh.
I'll be going downstairs now. For dinner. With my relatives.
Friday, February 03, 2006
devil quoting
I broke my record: 150 situps! Not in one minute, of course, but nonetheless. I've been working myself to death on situps these days. It sounds absurd, but I want to break the school record for situps. I'm not sure exactly what it is, but it must be 70-80 ish.
I might have cheated a little bit, though. ^^; Like, taking a rest for about 10 seconds.
You know, Weng Jun isn't a bad poet. Hmm... her poems kinda look like the ones I wrote when a few years back.
Oh, shit. That must've sounded bad. Er, Weng Jun, if you ever read this, it wasn't meant as an insult. In fact, your poems are pretty good. Better than lots of others in the class, anyway.
You just need to work a bit on your structure and rhythm, which should be a piece o' cake for you since you're a good musician and probably have a sense of rhythm drummed into you already. Your rhyming is okay, need to work a bit on imagery, read a poetry guide, and you should be pretty good.
Wonder why I even said that. It's not like she'll ever read this post anyway. But if she does, yeah.
And Esther Ng, the one beside Ivy, is pretty good s'well. She. Uses. Imagery. And while they're a tad cliche, they're good nonetheless. At least she knows how to use imagery. Huzzah for her!
Eleanor should be able to write a poem that's at least halfway decent; she's one of the better ones.
I don't think I'll get good marks for my poem. Mrs. Lee wanted us to write mainly about the war, but mine was more focused on the emotional trauma of the survivors. Not relevent, I think.
I sounded so arrogant in the above paragraphs. =/
BUT! Anyway. Hockey today was, surprise, surprise, good! Ahaha, we started late anyway, so that as well.
Isabelle got a new stick. Hmmm. It's really pretty, turquoise and all, a glittery carbon GRAYS stick.
GRAYS pwns the most, you Amazon stick wielders. XD
I might have cheated a little bit, though. ^^; Like, taking a rest for about 10 seconds.
You know, Weng Jun isn't a bad poet. Hmm... her poems kinda look like the ones I wrote when a few years back.
Oh, shit. That must've sounded bad. Er, Weng Jun, if you ever read this, it wasn't meant as an insult. In fact, your poems are pretty good. Better than lots of others in the class, anyway.
You just need to work a bit on your structure and rhythm, which should be a piece o' cake for you since you're a good musician and probably have a sense of rhythm drummed into you already. Your rhyming is okay, need to work a bit on imagery, read a poetry guide, and you should be pretty good.
Wonder why I even said that. It's not like she'll ever read this post anyway. But if she does, yeah.
And Esther Ng, the one beside Ivy, is pretty good s'well. She. Uses. Imagery. And while they're a tad cliche, they're good nonetheless. At least she knows how to use imagery. Huzzah for her!
Eleanor should be able to write a poem that's at least halfway decent; she's one of the better ones.
I don't think I'll get good marks for my poem. Mrs. Lee wanted us to write mainly about the war, but mine was more focused on the emotional trauma of the survivors. Not relevent, I think.
I sounded so arrogant in the above paragraphs. =/
BUT! Anyway. Hockey today was, surprise, surprise, good! Ahaha, we started late anyway, so that as well.
Isabelle got a new stick. Hmmm. It's really pretty, turquoise and all, a glittery carbon GRAYS stick.
GRAYS pwns the most, you Amazon stick wielders. XD
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Hallucinations
The trauma of the survivors of the Holocaust.
Block 10 and the water cans of gas-
They spill and flee and transcend tests
of dreams and time and insomnia.
Virgin philosophies stole away in the night the Nazis came.
The Nazis poached us hook-nosed Jews in the night that seemed so tame.
The Jews held on so tightly to the faith that was their bane.
The 'Hit' and the 'Ler' we'd tossed around
in bitter words, defenestrated
but swinging back like boomerangs.
They haunt us in screams, gunshots, blood:
Our doors they invade, our houses they flood:
They are the ghosts of the Holocaust past,
Fifty years dead but revenge they do cast.
Plant our gravestones; our lives are unused,
for death has come and our souls have defused.
-
This is the alternate poem I wrote for English class. The other one, Living Sub Rosa, might've been too... I don't know. Stupid. I'll ask for opinions tomorrow morning in class.
I don't want to come across as conceited, I'm just honestly stating a fact: I don't know if the teacher might accuse me of copying it from someone else. I wrote a far crappier poem last year and Mrs. Doris Tan asked me if I wrote it myself.
And recently I read a horror story of an eleven year old girl trying to make an original story out of the plot 'The Magic Schoolbus', and she put some really cool things inside involving bullying, smoking, slang words, that kinda stuff. Pretty impressive, for an eleven year old. Very realistic. But no, the teacher screamed at her, scribbled all over the story, threw the paper away or something, shouted 'no slang! blah blah blah! blah blah blah!', et cetera. Asshole.
The girl is about eighteenish now, I think? I don't know. I got this from the Writer's Forum on gaia. Lots of cool stuff there.
I know, this poem is just angsty crap, but still.
The trauma of the survivors of the Holocaust.
Block 10 and the water cans of gas-
They spill and flee and transcend tests
of dreams and time and insomnia.
Virgin philosophies stole away in the night the Nazis came.
The Nazis poached us hook-nosed Jews in the night that seemed so tame.
The Jews held on so tightly to the faith that was their bane.
The 'Hit' and the 'Ler' we'd tossed around
in bitter words, defenestrated
but swinging back like boomerangs.
They haunt us in screams, gunshots, blood:
Our doors they invade, our houses they flood:
They are the ghosts of the Holocaust past,
Fifty years dead but revenge they do cast.
Plant our gravestones; our lives are unused,
for death has come and our souls have defused.
-
This is the alternate poem I wrote for English class. The other one, Living Sub Rosa, might've been too... I don't know. Stupid. I'll ask for opinions tomorrow morning in class.
I don't want to come across as conceited, I'm just honestly stating a fact: I don't know if the teacher might accuse me of copying it from someone else. I wrote a far crappier poem last year and Mrs. Doris Tan asked me if I wrote it myself.
And recently I read a horror story of an eleven year old girl trying to make an original story out of the plot 'The Magic Schoolbus', and she put some really cool things inside involving bullying, smoking, slang words, that kinda stuff. Pretty impressive, for an eleven year old. Very realistic. But no, the teacher screamed at her, scribbled all over the story, threw the paper away or something, shouted 'no slang! blah blah blah! blah blah blah!', et cetera. Asshole.
The girl is about eighteenish now, I think? I don't know. I got this from the Writer's Forum on gaia. Lots of cool stuff there.
I know, this poem is just angsty crap, but still.
I may turn into a schizophrenic in the future, I think, given my current situation.
Also, just because there are kids much more unlucky, poor etc etc. than us, living in Africa, Iraq, whatever, so doesn't deprive us of our right to angst and cry and stuff whenever we hit a rut in life.
By the way, I wish... oh, peepholes, peepholes.
If only someone was there!
Guys are so much easier to talk to, as compared to girls. Save for the fact that guys run away from crying girls. Haha.
Pros and cons. But it's not like there'll be a girl there anyway.
Oh, self-centeredness.
I'm looking forward to this Saturday, and next Wednesday.
I like my male cousins better than my female cousins.
Also, just because there are kids much more unlucky, poor etc etc. than us, living in Africa, Iraq, whatever, so doesn't deprive us of our right to angst and cry and stuff whenever we hit a rut in life.
By the way, I wish... oh, peepholes, peepholes.
If only someone was there!
Guys are so much easier to talk to, as compared to girls. Save for the fact that guys run away from crying girls. Haha.
Pros and cons. But it's not like there'll be a girl there anyway.
Oh, self-centeredness.
I'm looking forward to this Saturday, and next Wednesday.
I like my male cousins better than my female cousins.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
My writing seems empty, somehow.
She gave him her virgin dazzling smile, the very one that was to weaken and shatter scores of hearts in years to come. Months later, she was to realize the power a simple tilt of her lips could yield, manipulate it to her own use, little white lies. Gavin blinked, a moment’s epiphany; approval in his brief caressing glance, the shy raise of eyebrows.
She gave him her virgin dazzling smile, the very one that was to weaken and shatter scores of hearts in years to come. Months later, she was to realize the power a simple tilt of her lips could yield, manipulate it to her own use, little white lies. Gavin blinked, a moment’s epiphany; approval in his brief caressing glance, the shy raise of eyebrows.
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