I do have my pride too. Don't see me for anything less than that, because I know I am worth so much more.

Yaya papaya

A lack of sleep does miracles to you. Really, it does. And the funny thing is, it works better than alchohol. Let me give you an example.

Yesterday, in the Arts Rag room.

Me, Aish and Roy were waiting for the rest before we headed off to Lala land when we suddenly entered an entirely random conversation about Papaya. And at the end of the impossibly long discussion for such a odd topic, we concluded that:

1) You can never say Papaya sexily without sounding weird and/or bursting into laughter
2) Papaya is the saddest fruit name
3) Consuming papaya milk may make your boobs bigger

And I was just talking so much crap, it was amazing. It had the same effect that a dam would have when you suddenly let all the water gush out. Seriously, oh my god. And half the time, I had no idea what I was saying LOL.

I think I have scarred my fellow raggers for life.

check out the two personal messages. The best thing is that the two of them do not even know each other. The darnest things do happen. xD

Enough is enough. Yes, and I say that with conviction and finality. For some reason that I cannot phantom, I am just so... irritated with myself right now. I guess you could say it was a sudden overwhelming urge of disgust of myself for being too easy-going, to the point whereby I failed to take the serious stuff, seriously. But of course, this anger is spilling over to other things too which are not related.

Don't get me wrong, I do not hate myself. On the other hand, the truth is very much far from that. I just think that I should change that - for lack of better word, bochup - side of me, soon. It has been sleeping for too long, being far too irresponsible.

So terribly annoyed.

And there are just so many things to be pissed off at.

Dairy Farmers Thick & Creamy Banana Caramel Pie Yogurt

Yes, I know the title is entirely random, but I am eating it now and it tastes so bloody good. Damn! What a steal from NTUC for $2.10! (:

It's kind of hard to believe that I am already in Year 2. Time really, really flies. And its even sadder that I am still so unsure of my life so late into university. Technically, without honours, I only have one year left and it's terrifying as hell. I hope, by the end of this semester, I would have gotten a grip of things and decide what I really want to do. If I could re-do my whole Year 1, I would. I really would. My life seriously needs some direction now.

But I know whatever the outcome in these crucial next few months, I will be ready to take it on.

I would say that this holiday has been both the best and worst time of my life. Best, because it made me understand and appreciate a lot of things that I have (and could have) going in my life. And it is the worst for precisely the same few reasons. But nonetheless, I know at the end of the day, I will emerge someone totally different.

There will definitely be scars. Scars that may haunt me for life. But its the scars that give me strength, that remind me everyday that this life is mine to make. It is because of that hurt that will force me to finally take things into my own control.

As Luke Perry says (although I have no bloody idea who he is, but I respect him very much for this quote), "I loved you more than I thought I could ever love anyone. Maybe, that was the problem. It depends on the wind that's carrying it, but watching from afar isn't that bad too."

I might disagree somewhat grudgingly with the latter statement, but yes, I do feel that I really have been doing my best. So now would be the best time to suck it up, and step up to life. It's about bloody time the curtain rose from its momentary intercession, as much as the spotlight may keep burning and blinding me.

Days when you just feel like a four-legged animal

The day started off decently - it really, really did. Apart from being locked out of Wisma thanks to the stupid shutters which they did not pull up, things were pretty smooth - I woke up on time, had time to breakfast and prepared everything at a comfortable pace. I even took an extra effort to do up my makeup today cause I was in a good mood.

But that's where everything good ended.

Just an hour later, I knocked a whole tray of Apple Crumble Cheesecakes onto the floor even before opening, said 'Oh fuck!' in front of my boss when it happened, somehow managed to slam the cupboard hinge onto my left thumb, somehow managed to burn the back of my right thumb, screwed up at cashier multiple times during an insane 2 hr-slam which, I'm sure, annoyed the hell out of my boss cause I kept having to ask him for his card, screwed up with a customer in front of my boss during the slam, and at the end of the day, ended up short of 10 cents.

And the best part is yet to come.

Part two consists of unintentionally offending my boss through misunderstanding, collapsing on the MRT due to sheer exhaustion, falling asleep later while teaching tuition, and walking in the fucking rain for the 3rd fucking time 3 days in a row. Bloody hell, if I could still bowl, that's as lucky as getting a turkey.

Oh, and I looked like hell at the end of the day. Remember the makeup I bothered to spend a bit more time on in the morning? Because the aircon was not switched on yet in Wisma in the morning, I was prespiring so badly that my whole makeup was running for the whole day, making me the panda's favourite cousin.

Some days are just not your days.

I felt like a pissed off warthog. You know, a hoof-stamping, tusk-rearing, crazy-eyed-glaring warthog blowing out angry clouds of steam. Just that this warthog was walking home through her estate with a folded apron on her head to shelter her from the rain, and yoghurt, fruit juice and more yoghurt in a plastic bag hanging from her hand. (no doubt, comfort food.)

I want to just curl up in a corner and die.

朝の考える

What about now
what about today

... words we could never find

-What about now by Chris Daughtry

It's sad that there's such a thin line between lovers and strangers.

the memories

The weather's going crazy. It really really is. This is the second time in a row that I have been caught in the rain and it is enough to make me cranky. Time to invest in a bloody umbrella that is not broken, leaking, or ugly.



The past 2 days have been epic on different scales. Let me just talk about yesterday first. Yesterday taught me a lot about people. As I was led to the gathering point for project C.A.N, I had a major deja vu. Standing outside Toa Payoh Central CC, it was like a blast from the past. The hanging out at Macdonalds, the many badminton trips there, the goofing around Toa Payoh in my fitting familiar blue penifo (can't spell!) and white shirt, and last but not least, the horrible memories in how all that ended. In fact, I dreaded stepping into the CC. In the end, I had to force myself in, grabbing the wallet that held my rosary really hard.



And it really didn't help that the gathering point was in the multi-purpose hall. The badminton area we used to frequent. And with everything that has happened, I just ended up sitting there wet from the rain, cold, miserable, and pretty darn scared. Every second I was just wishing that I could get out of there as soon as possible. For the few that know the memories associated with that place, you would understand why I was feeling that way. I think none of you would ever step back into that place ever again.







But let's talk about something else. As I was knocking on every door in Bishan, I was really both touched by the kindness and disgusted by the behaviour of some Singaporeans. I was shocked when people had prepared food beforehand, handing us huge packets of canned food and dried food which had evidently been catered more to the elderly. In addition, some people we met even gave expensive food like Abalone (which was far from expiring!!). Even I do not get to eat abalone! I even met this Philipino family that wanted to specially make a trip to buy things on the spot or give me cash because they were not aware that we were going to pick up the food that day. It was really, really touching. I guess it is true in the newspapers when the conmen say that Singaporeans are very generous. It is a good thing though.





However, I feel it is a pity that I do have to mention that all was not dandy. We encountered people refusing to open their doors, despite knowing that they were at home - either standing behind the peephole, or they can be blatantly seen from their window - and ignoring the fact that we were there, ringing their doorbell and knocking on their doors.



Next comes today.


I felt a tingle of sadness with the closure of my Japanese class. We have been studying together for nearly a 3/4 year so it was really sad to think that we would not be in the same class anymore, with our wonderful 先生。




みんなさん、本当に　どおもありがとうございます。



私たちのことはぜたい忘れない！



In short, thank you so much for all the fun memories, the joy, and the laughter. You people certainly made my learning experience so much more fun. (:




And along the way to meet Melvin for lunch and post-lunch activities, I bumped into some LT partners. It was awesome meeting them again. I chatted with the two of them for about 15 minutes before we parted ways, promising to meet up for a movie the following week. And I remember standing there and thinking, life has really changed. I guess my social circle is not as small as it used to be. Which may be both a bad and a good thing. But yes, I really am extremely grateful to Starbucks for changing my life so much.


Oh, and I bought a dress today. Talk about retail therapy.

Should really be sleeping

It's 2am, and I really should get some sleep because I have to wake up early tomorrow morning to collect Cans. Doesn't sound glamorous, does it? But hey, I have my reasons to do so.

Anyway, the reason why I am blogging this now is despite it risking my complexion and to put it plainly, my beauty sleep, is because if I do not do it now, I would forget to blog about it. And then this thought would disappear into oblivion, no matter how desperately I would want to preserve it for my future self next time to reflect on.

I think at this point of my life I feel both overwhelmed and underwhelmed - overwhelmed at the amount of work I have been doing, how I do not even have a free 4 hours to go scout for new work pants (cause I can't wear my jeans anymore, dammit!) , how my entire schedule just comes rushing at me. At the same time, I feel underwhelmed because despite my exploding schedule, I still have the "So is this all there is?" feeling, making me want to take up more and more things despite not having the time or commitment capacity to accept it. And it ends up in me just being irresponsible if I cannot match up to it, or it just burns me out.

Currently, it is the latter.

There are a lot of things I have yet to understand now, but at the same time, I feel I am slowly understanding more things as the days go by. I may not like it- but I still do learn. I guess we have to make the worse of mistakes in order to get to where we are. I used to be too damn practical, it was cold to the extent that I cannot imagine myself being so ever again, and later after I was out of that hellish stage, I became much too soft and trusting about a lot of things. Right now, I am still soft - and I think I will not ever break out of this because some things are irreversible. But I can feel myself changing with each day, my thinking being shaped slowly through daily situations.

As I stepped into Serena's birthday party today, I felt a little silly being overdressed (few people actually really dressed up as their characters in the end). And of course, the effect it had was the whole room of people judging you. You could almost physically feel it. And donning the least conventional of outfits did not help either - in my defence, it was a Mafia-themed party. How else would I dress?

But somehow, once I eased in when some familiar faces appeared, I guess I did not care anymore. They can judge me all they want, even if I did zhao geng by accident ( thank you so much nicole for telling me :D ). Because despite how it somehow matters in our head, it really doesn't.

As Rupaul, my idol, puts it - "If you cannot love yourself, how the HELL are you going to love someone else?"

minutes

Sometimes I wonder if there is a point to anything, if anything really mattered.

Somebody once said, "Many things hardly matter, and few things matter at all."

And I'm starting to think, hey, that actually does make sense. =(

horrifying revelations.

A very odd thought crossed my mind today while I was waiting at the surprisingly-lonely 96 bus stop at 8+pm. Why am I so bochup about my health? It's like, okay, I am sick again. Like that knowledge is going to do me any good. I just carry on life as it is, secretly hoping for my body to recover by itself.

Jesus woman, you're not bionic woman or wonderwoman (even if your health was imba, you don't have the boobs to make men stop in their tracks).

And so I started to ponder on why I do not care about my health. I guess you can attribute it to my WHOLE LIFE being sick ALL THE TIME. It is almost the norm. But then again, another thought struck me. The thought said - "Just like how everyone at home laments, you're a burden to everyone because of your health."

That's when it hit me - maybe you're better off dead.

And immediately after that, I realised the reason why I get depressed so easily. It was somewhat horrifying, somewhat gratifying - not out of morbidity, but rather, that I finally managed to answer the question I have been asking myself for so long. And the answer was, "I've been suicidal since young."

Bazzinga!

I always thought that the situation around me did not bother me at all. I always, always believed that. It was only recently that I realised that it does affect me. That since young, it has drilled this "you're better off dead" mentality in me. So as a result, I'm always depressed without me even realising it. The subconscience is scary.

Which sprang up another memory in my head. It was one of the times when I almost died in my life. I was lying in my hospital bed, drifting in and out of consciousness, and vaguely watching Green Day sing "I miss you" on repeat on the MTV television channel. At that time I thought, "Well, looks like this time I'll die for good."

I had long buried that memory until it suddenly reappeared today.

And having such a revelation answered so many other questions - Why am I taking things so hard? Why I live in the moment of everyday.

And at that very bus stop, with the dim interchange light as my witness, I thought, "Fuck, you've got to stop doing this to yourself. You've fucked up your body for 20 years, it's time you took it seriously."
And I felt an unexplainable weight lift itself a little from inside me.

and I seriously think I am hopeless at salvaging myself

It's just one of the many times I look at myself and think, " Mel, what the fuck are you doing. "


why must you keep reminding yourself.

Of blood, of tears, of sweat

I think I am seriously overstretching myself. It's just really really bad. There are days when I want to just curl up, and have absolutely nothing on on that day. But you know, I know that will definitely backfire - explaining why I have work 7 days a week now, which is basically everyday thus far.

I mean, I am not a workaholic. Really, those who know me will know that I am really really lazy. Yeah, I love money like how I love chocolate, cause without money, you can't buy no chocolate. But the love of money is not enough to make me work like a bitch. And yes, I wish I were as hardworking in my school too, so I would not have such a pathetic CAP.

It just seems that keeping my mind occupied is the most important thing now. This week I would say that I have slackened by only working 5 out of 7 days a week, and I feel the effects of being too free. It is a really really bad thing. I just take one second to breathe, and I can feel the beginning signs of emo-ness creeping in.

So, if I keep working like a bitch, then I would stay happy (or happier). But hey, I can feel my body breaking down. It says no way, you cannot keep this up or I will just stop functioning.

What a dilemma. =/

And going to school almost 3 times a week for rag makes me think about what school would be like when it reopens. I groan, really. I can already imagine what is going to happen - and I do not like it.

The holidays just seem too damn short.

Cause you ain't got no pancake mix

It's hard to believe how much time has passed since I was 16 and completely ambitionless, and extremely naive. I just took my mid-term exam for my Japanese course, and I am only 2 weeks away from the final exam, the last step to getting that Japanese certificate that will boost my resume for life. It is also really amazing how much I have changed since then.

Looking back, I never would have thought I would become somebody like this back then. Or maybe not. I will find out next year when I go back to my Secondary school and collect the letter that I wrote to myself when I was 16.

But anyway, a really interesting thing happened today at Orchard MRT station. So here I was, walking fast in my usual busy routine, rushing to get coffee before my exam, and there's this little kid in front of me who barely reaches the top of the barrier. He takes long, deliberate steps and hesitates before the barrier. He pauses for a few seconds, as if mustering up all his chi with great concentration, then he slaps his card onto the top of the card reader with great conviction, and in a really unintentional way, strikes a pose. Being directly behind him, my eyes bugged out. That was entirely random and amusing.

Looks like we got the next Karate kid, local version.

But hey, I am sure I was a weird kid too.

Do you ever get that feeling, where you are so excited that you forget everything else on your mind? It happened today. I was walking back to the MRT after Japanese, desperately needing to go to the toilet when I saw a cereal sale at Marks and Spencers. Racks and racks of cereal was staring back at me on top of their dainty shelves, looking scrumptuous and enticing. I guess you could say the effect that it had on me was the kind of effect a guy would have when the most beautiful girl in the world squeezes her two boobs together right in front of him.

And no, it wasn't anything to do with getting turned on.

I forgot about going to the toilet. And in the end, I couldn't resist and bought the damn overpriced cereal. And it was only about a few hundred metres away later, when I was prancing to the MRT, feeling all powerful with my purchase, and mentally laughing at everyone who did not have awesome cereal around me, that I remembered I needed to use the toilet.

Balls.

And the rampage did not end there. When I got to Ang Mo Kio, I bought fruit juice, and expensive yoghurt just cause I felt like it. And while I was deliberating what brand to buy, some random aunty beside me said, "Don't buy that one (the one I was looking at), this one nicer!"

If it does not taste nice aunty, you owe me $6.99.

But hey, at the end of the day, it gave me that warm fuzzy feeling of superiority. It was like looking at the world and going "HAHA YOU AINT GOT NO CEREAL, YOGHURT AND FRUIT JUICE" at every sad face in the Ang Mo Kio bus interchange.

I am such an asshole sometimes.

here we go again

I can't tell you what it really is
I can only tell you what it feels like
And right now there's a steel knife
In my windpipe
I can't breathe
But I still fight
While I can fight
As long as the wrong feels right
It's like I'm in flight
High of a love
Drunk from the hate
It's like I'm huffing paint
And I love it the more that I suffer
I suffocate
.
.
.
Now I know we said things
Did things
That we didn't mean
And we fall back
Into the same patterns
Same routine
But your temper's just as bad
As mine is
You're the same as me
But when it comes to love
You're just as blinded
Baby please come back
It wasn't you
Baby it was me
Maybe our relationship
Isn't as crazy as it seems
Maybe that's what happens
When a tornado meets a volcano
All I know is
I love you too much
To walk away though
Come inside
Pick up your bags off the sidewalk
Don't you hear sincerity
In my voice when I talk
Told you this is my fault
Look me in the eyeball

Songs just keep getting better and better, I swear. They take that torrent of many emotions and change it into the words that you fumble place the feeling on. It makes me wonder though, if the singer had to go through the same experience in order to write such an emotionally-charged song.

On other matters, I declare war on wet travellators, and lousy $40 converse shoes that have no bloody grip.