Somehow I can't remember the last time I had a late night (early morning) conversation with anyone. As in, those really long conversations where words come in effortless torrents. Where you don't really care about what you say, uninhibited, hard to find in real life because they're totally free of self-consciousness.
So if I'm on messenger, click on my nickname and start talking to me, because I'm conversation-starved.
Gosh, I've actually resorted to this. A-nyway, as you can see, no tagboard - do spend some time using blogger's comment thingy instead.
Just returned from ji-gu's house. His neighbourhood, somewhere in Bedok, is really really nice. One of those pretty quaint untouchedbymodernization maze of streets, sort of like Serangoon/ColchesterConistonCardiff, but nicer. Playgrounds lit, lamplight and moonlight, so pretty. I visited the playground there. Funny, it used to seem so big, when I was younger, tinier, a small mite of a kid. I love the swings and the stairs.
I miss the see-saws at the old Colchester park.
I feel nostalgic, and the song isn't helping, but I don't want helping.
We were watching the 9pm show, forgot which channel, Ah Fai-Bryan-Gresilda-Clarissa-Veltrice-Stefi-Me.
Ah Fai was sitting next to me, my right, and beside Ah Fai was Bryan. Bryan said something to Ah Fai that sounded like it involved my name, and... nevermind. I didn't understand anything anyway.
but that's not the point. Bryan seems appalled at my reading capacity, because I was reading Anita Brookner's Providence during all the commercial breaks. Reading, hahah. He was all, "What for?"
There isn't really a reason. If there is, it doesn't matter.
I feel so disconnected with my female cousins. Sherlinn/tricia/lillian/kelly/minlee/gresilda/sharon/veltrice/clarissa. I used to be really close to most of them.
The idea of havin' an elder brother appeals to me more than the prospect of an older sister. The latter brings forth impressions of a made up bimbo strutting from room to room in search of her imitation Louis Vuitton handbag. The former...
okay, I know the whole protective-older-brother thing is a horrible stereotype, and I'm being kind of chauvinistic here by thinking that males give some sort of sturdiness, but that's my current opinion, at least until I'm proved otherwise.
WORLD WORLD WORLD.
the profound new cousin at the playground, the crushed snail, the bus stop, the breathing and running, the ruined dreams of France.
The moon playing on the sand.
I'm usually the last one to start having dinner, so when I went today, when dinner started at about 8, everyone was asking me,
why don't you eat? Have you eaten yet? Not hungry ah?
My body is kind of programmed for dinner at about 8-9, and on those days when I have dinner at 7 (which is very often, because of my mum's insistence) I feel rather disconcerted afterwards. Unless of course I happen to be extra hungry.
I can feel the rain in my hair.
The wet black pants and blue shirt sweltering away in a washing machine.
sweltered venom, sleeping got.
haha, Macbeth rocks.
It's one of the easier plays to analyze, I think. Everything's so raw, laid bare. The raw is always easier to observed than the cooked, where everything's changed and the root ingredients are hidden under facades of golden brown crusts. Ovened.
Or maybe I'm just being naive. :/
i am beautiful
no matter what they say
words can't(?) bring me down
i am beautiful in every single way
yes words can't (?) bring me down
so don't you bring me down
