I'm staring at the monitor. Wondering what I shoud type, and how Im going to start with it. Oh well, I guess there's not much need for that now since I have gone on with this. I'll settle with this. So what now?

I have no single plan - nor any idea - how I'm going to spend this 4week break. So there's that going back to school for the first few days, and then there's nothing else. Maybe I should try and get employed, you know. I mean that does not only mean extra cash, but also great experience, and it's a positive way of using my time which otherwise would be so futile. Or maybe I should really pursue that idea which I have been talking about for months but never really had the energy to initiate: Dance class. It was such a long time ago since I danced. I mean yeah, I dance at home (alone.wth?) but I so miss dancing with a group, and again this is a good way of spending the holidays... think about all those fats that'll be burnt. Or maybe I should just stay at home and watch the whole of FRIENDS, re-read all the Harry Potter books, start reading the Bible, watch this HongKong drama which surprisingly got me hooked, and basically waste the time barren and boring.




It's 12:25pm and I haven't eaten anything. I pon school today. Pon. I have no idea what that exactly means but I'm pretty sure I used the correct slang. No, I haven't been updating lately. Not really sure why. I guess there aren't really much going on. I just realised that materialism has infiltrated my life. Yeah, that's bad. And I'm really on my knees doing something about it; controlling all those obsessive-impulsive buying of more-or-less obsolete things. I don't know. Sometimes I just really feel that I deserve it, you know? Like, I need a treat once in a while. But this past couple weeks is not 'once in a while' anymore. So yeah, so much of that.

Tomorrow is the last day of Term2. And I'm giving you my geez-how-fast-time-flies-by again, but this time, I'm incandescently glad about it. And yes, I know that rush hour also means dreaded days dawning upon, but those days will come no matter what anyways. So we just might as well get them done and over with.

I'm supposed to be in college this coming June. I'm one of those one-year-younger in my batch before. If I think about it now, I should only have more or less four years in school and it's total independence for me. That is, if I take a four-year course. But all the same, that's like three years earlier than me taking the same route here in SG. However, as I continue to contemplate on this, I also realised that I'm not ready yet. I haven't even decided what I really aspire to be, nor have I given it any serious thoughts.

Oh shit. I'm thinking long-terms again. This happens.




Music is like love. sheesh.
After much searching and even more sufferings from identity crisis, I found it. I ain't no RnB person, nor Emo, nor Rock, nor Alternative. None of these. I had an epiphany. Okay, not really since it's not that significant but... Country. That's my music. It suddenly became so emphatic.

Music is like love. Simultaneously, I realised what and who I want for both. :)









How much of it does really matter?
How much of these do really matter?

None.

If there is one thing I learned from everything, this is it. Nothing matters. We're all going to die somewhere sometime anyway. Maybe we'll see each other in the after-life and look back at all the events on earth and find ourselves rolling on the floor laughing. Except that there might not be a floor in the after-life to roll laughing on. But as I was saying, none of these really matters.
If you're hurting, don't let that bring you down. Screw all them bitches hurting you and eradicate them off your life. Or better yet, off this world. But that would be so cruel, so don't.




Home Alone. ok, not really, since my bro is here. Then again, we both have our own business to attend to and I appreciate his not-being-himself today. I mean, his not-butting-around-my-room-and-my-stuffs. Oh well. It's nice staying at home once in a while. Or maybe that's just because it wouldn't be nice going out with a dead broke wallet. And I mean that literally and metaphorically. Pathetic.

Today's my fave cousin's birthday. But since there's no way she could read this... Oh well. I downloaded Limewire my friends. And I'm like indulging myself with illegally-downloaded pirated music. That's life. We give and we get. For free. And others lose something. But it doesn't make a difference because they're already rich and popular and they're only getting much much richer and more popular. So in a way, life is not that unfair at all as how others place it. Crap. What in the fuck sake am I talking about.

So yeah 2 more weeks and it's total freedom... for the most part. I don't want to think about that going-back-to-school-for-two-weeks shit yet.

I'm tired of cursing him.
I'm tired of finding myself hoping it's him who just SMSed.
I'm tired of saying and pretending that it's no big deal.
I'm tired.




Yesterday was fun. And today is equally enjoyabe. Geez. After my I'm-not-gonna-post-drama-queen-posts-again post (wth?!), I just sort of ran out'a things to blog about. Anyway, tomorrow is the moment of truth. Yikes. I'm bracing myself for the worst but still hoping for the better. Poseidon is soooo overrated. I mean really. Well okay, they deserve thumbs up for all those 3D effects, but the story... was there even a story? It's all about surviving. Starbucks today was... pleasurable. Haha. Indeed it is. Marina Square... is still Marina Square. It's "the square". And I don't care about the square. Whatever the fuck I'm talking about. At first it was sad, and I even felt like crying. Yes Hailey, I'll tell you once and for all, I was really sad about that "square" thing and all that. But yeah, since I'm not blogging about things which are related to that in any way, I'll just leave it at that. Ugh. I'm tired. Thank goodness tomorrow is the last day of this week. I'm left with bloody-ass-cursed $70 that I have to go on with for the rest of the month. Plain crap, I know. Bear with me people.




From now on, it's back to normal. It's rewind for me. And it's a whole new story. A whole new CD playing. Not the same old cracky and jumpy record. Let's pretend the past 2 months never happened. Or if it did, it's in some parallel world that I'm no longer part of. Detached. I'm decided. Determined. No more open invitations. This is my closure. I've finally got it. I deserve this. What hurts me most is that it took me this long. It took me nights and nights of feeling like I'm falling into some abyss that is never-ending that makes everything swirl around and that makes me want to burst. And what I didn't realise is that it will only take a single turning point. What I didn't realise is that it will be that easy. This is my closure.

This is the last you will read of my uber melodramatic posts.
Let's close this chapter. Open up a new one. A real one.




It's gone.
I swear it is.
But what I can't swear is whether I'm happy or sad about it.

I guess in a way, I'm glad. Since I know right from the fucking beginning that it's not going to happen, finally getting over it should really make me a happy person - if not the happiest. Besides, it's unrequitted.

Still, there's this part of me - a huge fucking cursed part of me, that is just not ready to let it go yet. Or, shall I say Not willing to let it go. You know that feeling it brings you? Like, whatever shit happens to you in school or at home or just about anywhere, there's still this high feeling that makes everything else seems dreamlike.

But all the same, it's gone.
And there's no fucking use to chase after it. (If that is even possible)



p.s. It's the very same fucking reason why I'm cursing again.




I have nothing better to do and I'm just really in the mood for a long post. So prepare yourselves for a novel. I will reveal everything that happened between those one-and-a-half-hours or two-and-a-half-hours period of time that is also known as torture time. Or not.

So friday came in an overnight and the hitherto night was spent poring over this 1692-paged dictionary (No, I'm not exaggerating) that is part of of the Curious-Incident-of-the-Night-Time aftermath. In short, this Macmillan dictionary that was the cheap-ass prize for last year's essay writing contest. Okay, I won't get carried away. So I sat down there, along with these 41 other people probably thinking, what should I write about? or which comes first, sender's address or recepient's address? or will My Race Against Time come out? or is stall number6 selling Nasi Lemak today? or the guy behind me stinks like shit. As for me, I couldn't really remember what I was thinking at the very moment, but I do remember feeling exalted when I read through the question paper. Without doubt or hesitation, I immediately wrote 3 in the foolscap provided. Encircled it. Happiness. Now I know it's such an easy topic to write about, and very typical, yeah. But I got so used to writing about one-word topics that choosing among the given suggestions is not really an option for me. I wrote and wrote. And wrote again. Yes, without stopping. Surprisingly, I did not have a writers' fucking block or anything. I just sat there, wrote my fingers away. And then it was over. Only after the invigilator announced "time's up" did I notice that I forgot to use my favourite word at the time - VERTIGINOUS (adj. Having a sensation of whirling or falling). So I was like fuck lah, after all those days of feeling 'vertiginous' myself, i forgot to use the very word, really fuck ah. However there was no other choice but to let it go. So I did.

And then came the 3day weekend. Which, SURPRISE SURPRISE, was spent largely at home. And April went away like an unnoticed falling leaf would.

And then it was 2nd of May. Literature paper was... I couldn't really find the right words to describe it. It was not difficult, nor was it easy. And it's hard to describe it in anyway because Literature has always been so unpredictable for me. I mean you don't even have to study for it. It's unseen, for crying out loud. And you'll just have to sit there and answer as best as you could right on the spot. And that's it. Physics, on the other hand, can only be described as weird. Okay, I didn't mean the paper itself was weird. I meant the feeling that Physics brought me was just definitely weird. I remember not being able to answer this particular question and not even feeling the slightest sign of panic. One year ago, I would probably have stared at the question for 2minutes or so completely dumbfounded and not knowing what to do and losing all the better of me and screwing the rest of the paper. But it was a hundred-percent different this time. And after the paper was even weirder. There was no air of any feeling at all. I wasn't relieved that one paper was down, or worried that I could have done the whole thing wrong, or [insert adjective here] at all. I felt numb. Maybe I am numb.

Wednesday. E.Maths paper1 and Chemistry. After all those warnings from Mrs.Ng that this year's paper will not be as easy as last year's one, I guess most of us realised that Mrs.Ng can so overstate things if she wants to. I wouldn't say Paper1 was this easy, but it wasn't as bad as Mrs.Ng portrayed it to us. In the bus on the way home, Arvin said "E.Maths so fucking easy sia, like primary lidat". I would have to agree, though not to that extent. And finally, the big frustration. Chemistry. I never saw everything that came coming. I did the first-half pretty alright. I even took my time answering this particular question that could have taken me only 2minutes or so. But no, being the asshole that I am, I took my time on it. And at that moment I was like aiyah, okay lah, still have more than one hour. I guess the turning point was when I was answering this question: draw the dot-and-cross diagram of C3H6. I thought I knew how to do it. So I switched to my pencil and started on. Then I realised that what I was doing is all fucking wrong. I tried again. No success. I skipped the question. No worries. The paper went on and soon enough I had 3 questions left unanswered. 12 marks in total. Now I wouldn't have panicked the way I did if the invigilator did not announce the amount of time left once every ten minutes. I mean it's like so oppressive lah. Half-an-hour left is already so pressurizing, especially if you haven't started on the last section that is worth 30 marks, let alone hearing your teacher's voice every now and then informing you of the number of minutes left as if saying just quit lah, you won't be able to do it dumbo. And then finally the torture was over and all you can do is to bitch about what is unchangeable and to type a probably-1000word entry on your blog so as to keep yourself from biting off all that is left of your nails or from jumping out your 12th floor window.

And today, thank all the graciousness, today was alright. Today is alright even though all my right-hand fingers are hurting like fuck hell. Today is alright even though it shouldn't be. Social Studies paper is comparable to Literature. And I would rather not say anything about it- partly because I'm still typing my fingers out besides the fact that I had just mentioned. E.Maths paper 2... is just so similar to Physics. And yes, I meant the aftermath of it. There was like no worries even though there should have been. There should totally have been. Right through the first question, I already didn't know what to do. Fuck, compound interest. How the fuck do I get compound interest again? And, like, with guidance and the hallelujah singing not in the background but in the foreground, it all came back to me. And there was this other one. Length of line segment BC. I was like totally blank and I did everything I could from peering over Yan Ling's paper. Yes, I'm serious. But of course I didn't do that. And again, probably in reward of my honesty, everything shot back in my mind. It's like ching. It's there. And there were many other circumstances that might have ruined all my self's togetherness, but I managed to stay intact. It's just like I'm telling you. It's weird.

And now I'm home. And I feel like I'm getting a fever. I don't have any paper for tomorrow. And I wish all the rest of you good luck for your Mother Tongue's exam. And tomorrow 2 people I know are celebrating their birthdays. Happy Birthday! And I think I'm going to stop now because now not only my fingers are hurting, my head is, too. My eyes are losing focus and I'm so typing like the narrator of TheCuriousIncidentOfTheNight-Time would. Yes, lika an autistic.




I'm restless.
I need a BREAK.
A REAL break. And not these bloody 3day ones that are used up for bloody revisions.
Give it to me.

All the best people. Through and through.