Cynthia'sBlog

2008-01-05T22:59:00.000+08:00

My commonwealth essay:
(feel free to leave comments, I need a title!)

Write a story that includes a song and a secret.

Floyd, what’s over there? Oh shit.

The man’s voice speaking these words were vaguely familiar, but the words themselves were just a disconnected dialogue, the kind of thing you heard when you were channel-surfing with the remote. Still, that was the start. Even before she saw the little girl in the red pinafore clutching the dirty doll, there were those disconnected words.

But it was the little girl who brought in on strong. “Oh-oh, I’m getting that feeling,” Carol said.

“What feeling?” Bill asked.

“You know, the one you can only say what it is in French, help me here.”

“Déjà vu,” he replied.

“That’s it,” she turned to look at the little girl one more time. “How much further?”

“Once you get over into Sanibel Island, there’s a road that goes to Palm House.”

Second honeymoon, that’s what you call this, she thought, looking at the palms that lined Highway 867. Things had been different at the start. Bill, whom she first met at a high-school dance, had dropped out of school when Carol got pregnant. Her parents practically disowned her when they got married. They had asked why she wanted to marry that boy when anyone could tell he was shanty, how could she fall for all his foolish talk, but what could she say? Bill was all she had.

It was a long distance from that place twenty-five years ago to a private jet soaring at forty-one thousand feet; a long way to this rental car, which was a Crown Victoria – what goodfellas in the gangster movies invariably called a Crown Vic.

Floyd? ...Oh shit

There it was again, and that feeling too. What was it again? Something with a vu or vous. Where had she heard it before? It was on the tip of her tongue, but she just could not summon it, as if it were some kind of secret her mind was keeping from herself.

Overhead is a sign with Mary the Mother of Jesus, she thought, just beyond this curve. They rounded the bend, and there was the sign. It seemed like the same Mary that once hung above her fireplace. The Mary with the look that made you feel guilty of thinking impure thoughts when all you were thinking about was a peanut butter sandwich. Beneath Mary, the sign said: Mother of Mercy charities help the Florida homeless – won’t you help us?

Carol was raised in a family of devout Christians, all of whom told her she would pay for her sins in Hell the day she told them about Bill and their accidental child.

Bill was pointing. “There – see? I think that’s Palm house, no not where the billboard is, the other side.”

Her head itched. She scratched, and black dandruff began falling past her eyes. She looked at her fingers, and was horrified to see dark smutches on the tips; it was as if someone had just taken her fingerprints.

“Bill?” She raked her hand through her hair and this time the flakes were bigger. She saw they were not flakes of skin but flakes of paper. There was a face on one; it appeared to be Virgin Mary.

“Bill?”

“What? Wh –” Then a total change in his voice, and that frightened her more than the way the car swerved. She turned to him and saw that his glasses were melted to his cheeks. One of his eyes had popped from its socket, and then spilt like a grape pumped full of blood. And I knew it, she thought. Even before I turned, I knew it. Because I had that feeling.

From what seemed like almost a mile away, Iron Butterfly sang “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” on the radio. She was screaming.

“Carol?”

It was Bill’s voice. She opened her eyes to brilliant sunlight, and her ears to the steady hum of the Learjet’s engines.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just a nightmare.” She tried to remember the details of her dream, but the more she thought, the less she remembered.

“Floyd says we’ll be on the ground in –”

“Who?”

“Floyd. You know, the pilot. You really okay?”

“Yeah, I’ve just had that feeling, you know, the one you can only say what it is in French.”

There’s a car outside the plane, she thought, when they had finally landed. A Crown Victoria – what gangsters in a Martin Scorsese film would doubtless call a Crown Vic.

There it was, just as she had imagined. Where had she seen it before? If only her mind would let go of the secret it was keeping from her. The feeling came back, the vu-vous feeling, this time stronger than ever.

She saw a billboard with Virgin Mary on it, and recalled her parents threatening that she would burn in Hell for her sin. She faintly heard an old Iron Butterfly song in the distance. Then bad something had happened.

She shook the feeling off; it was her honeymoon, nothing was going to happen.

But it still lingered, faintly, unnoticeably…secretly.

2007-11-19T16:07:00.000+08:00

I'm going to be in China from the 20th to the 27th...with absolutely NO hope of internet...

So, well, see you guys soon and wish me luck (you know what China is like...)

2007-11-09T22:24:00.000+08:00

Fell off
my bike
whilst speeding down a steep slope
'cause
the stupid brakes
wouldn't catch fast enough.

so yeah...
it stings...
Plus I damaged my favorite pair of pants...

At least I have first seven episodes of Grey's Anatomy season 4, Prison Break season 3 and Heroes Season 2 (the first season has yet to even show on Channel 5 yet) to keep me company, with loads more coming up.

2007-10-29T17:48:00.000+08:00

For 1 GY

An entire year has past,
It simply whizzled by,
Despite the promise of freedom,
I find I still miss GY.

I miss the quiet mornings,
Sitting in the canteen,
When everyone is half-awake,
And in dire need of caffeine.

I miss the noisy lessons,
The teasing of Mr.Sim,
His inaudible mumbling,
Oh how I pity him.

Or the many instances,
When I have to scream out loud,
For someone to hurry up,
"I'll ditch you" I avowed
(While Pei Wei lamely meowed)

Or the rowdy recesses,
When everyone would just joke,
Wait on second thought I add,
Darrelle wouldn't, she just spoke.

And after school had ended,
I dolefully miss the time,
When we all waited for someone,
Those moments were sublime.

But most of all I miss,
All of my many friends,
And I truly hope that this,
Would not be where it ends.

And so I find myself,
Contemplating the past,
I just cannot help it,
This year has been a blast.

--Cynthia

2007-10-12T20:46:00.000+08:00

Yes, this is a post. I've finally decided on what to write.
I'm gonna post a short poem on one of my favorite things in the world,
DIABLO II LORD OF DESTRUCTION
However, if you don't play the game, you probably won't understand this poem. But nevertheless, here it is:

Diablo

There were seven characters,
And we were told to choose,
One of the seven classes,
One that we thought couldn't lose.

I hesitated a while,
Unable to pick a class,
Knowing all the while that
I'd have to pick one fast.

Should I pick the Amazon?
Fast and deadly she is,
Skilled with the bow and arrow,
She simply would not miss.

What about the Paladin?
Wielding a sword and shield,
Shrouded in Holy aura,
Adept in every field.

Then there is the Sorceress,
A mighty mage of spells,
Brandishing her awesome staff,
all darkness she repels.

Or the shape-shifting Druid,
A master of nature,
He commands deadly animals,
To kill all the evil creatures.

Should I choose the Assassin?
With speed and stealth she moves,
Her talons strike fear in all,
Could she ever even lose?

And the Necromancer?
Dark and sinister is he,
Raising armies of Undead,
He stares menacingly.

At last I decided to choose,
A beast of strength and muscle,
The massive Barbarian,
Now it's time to hustle.

However, as I played on,
I soon got bored with him.
Perhaps I should choose again,
And start at the beginning.

--Cynthia

2007-08-08T19:51:00.000+08:00

Here...

Urgh...

2007-07-15T19:19:00.000+08:00

My Sis wants me to write some romantic stuff and submit it to this wierd competition with some really good prizes. So I wrote a poem, but the rhymes still sound very stupid sometimes. Heck, I'll just post it.

Regret

I remember the first time I saw you,
It was a cold and rainy day,
When you turned and looked at me,
You made it all go away.

Your face was flustered,
You hair was wet,
You asked me for a favor,
And I told you not to fret.

I pulled out my umbrella,
And I somehow managed to say,
That we could share the umbrella,
And you smiled the rain away.

I’ve come to love the rain.
For every time the heavens cry,
I would think of you,
And dolefully I would sigh.

I remember thinking constantly,
That you would never go,
That you would always be by side,
But then you got so cold.

I’d wish that I could fly
Up to where you are,
But you would never let me go,
You’re just way too far.

When I dream of you at night,
My heart would always ache,
Why do the heavens torture me so?
Why? For goodness sake.

I would wake up slightly dazed,
Unable to tell that it wasn’t real,
I’d turn to my side, reaching for you,
But it is only empty air I feel.

I’ve never said I love you,
Or asked you to be my wife.
Even they are just words,
They contain my entire life.

It is hard to tell people,
That I loved you with all my will,
Cause I have to use the past tense,
But heck, I love you still.

2007-07-13T21:40:00.000+08:00

I've decided to stop being so against prefects.

(Mostly due to lindee, not a compliment by the way)

So if you want to vote for me, then just vote

But I dont think anyone would anyway.

FYI, if i give up this opportunity, my mother would kill me, so shant let it pass.

Ahh, I still can't believe I'm nominated. I think Mrs Tan thinks I can't handle responsibility, you should have seen the way she looked at me when she was giving that lecture.

*shudder*

2007-07-08T20:26:00.000+08:00

I was reading "The Picture of Dorian Grey" by Ocsar Wilde when i came across this quote:

"Breaking the Host into the chalice"

I think it is safe to say the Oscar Wilde is sick.

Plus, he probably has issues with women too, no wonder he is a homosexual.

2007-06-19T20:29:00.000+08:00

I've written the first of the science-y part of my story. I dont know if it is simple enough.

Just tell me if you can understand it.

******

“Um…Richard? Have you any idea what string theory is?” Allie interrupted.
“Well, of course. Why?”
“I think it might have something to do with Tom…can you just tell me?”
“If it helps. Well, what is the word made of?”
“Matter?’
“Precisely. Now matter is made up of atoms, as I am sure you know, which in turn is made up of three basic components: electrons, protons…”
“Yeah, and neutrons, I know. Go on”
“Okay…um…well, the electron is a truly fundamental particle, meaning it is not made up of anything smaller. But neutrons and protons are made of smaller particles called quarks, which, as far as we know, are truly elementary.
“They aren’t made up of anything smaller, right?” Allie asked, frowning slightly.
“Precisely. Now, our current knowledge of all these particles and the things they are made of is summarized in what is known as the Standard Model. Think of a sort of chart with pictures of every particle that we know of and a description telling us how it behaves. Here’s the tricky part. These particles, other than being fundamental building blocks of the world, also sort of give out certain forces.
“Give out forces? How?” Allie raised her eyebrows slightly, giving her a look of amazement.
“Well, for example, the photon is a particle of light which is a mediator of electromagnetism. Basically, they are sort of like carriers of forces. There are four basic forces in the universe: gravity, electromagnetism and the weak and strong nuclear forces. Each of these is produced by particles acting as carriers of the force. For technical reasons, the gravitational force, carried by the graviton, the most familiar in our daily lives, has proven very difficult to describe microscopically. For many years, this has been one of the most important problems in theoretical physics – to formulate a quantum theory of gravity.
“Let me get this right. The gra…graviton emits gravity. So it is not like some immaterial energy thing, but a particle?” Allie asked again, choosing her words carefully.
“Technically, energy is immaterial; they don’t have any mass or volume. Gravity is not a particle, but rather something that a particle gives out. Just like how a lamp gives out light but that doesn’t mean that the light is made up of lamps. Okay, bad example. But do you get what I am trying to say?”
“Yeah, sort of. But how does String theory fit in all this?’
“In the last few decades, String theory has emerged as the most promising candidate for a microscopic theory of gravity. It attempts to provide a complete, unified, and consistent description of the fundamental structure of our universe. In other words, it is like a ‘Theory of Everything’ in the sense that it is able to explain all the four forces in one succinct theory. It, technically speaking, unifies the four forces.”
“How can you unify a force?” Allie interrupted.
“Not literally unify a force,” Tom paused, pursing his lips. “We can take electromagnetism as an example. It is a unified force ‘made up’ of electricity and magnetism. Quite some time ago, James Clerk Maxwell discovered the links between these two forces, like how lightning strikes were able to disturb a compass needle, and came up with one theory to describe both forces, hence unifying them. Same concept with the ‘Theory of Everything’. It is, in essence, a single theory that encompasses all for forces.”
“What exactly is String theory anyway?” Allie injected, growing slightly impatient.
“The essential idea behind it is this: all of the different ‘fundamental’ particles of the Standard Model are really just different manifestations of one basic object: a string.”
“How can that be?” Allie cried out.
“Well, we would normally picture an electron, for example, as a point with no internal structure. Just imagine a dot. But, if String theory is correct, then, under an extremely powerful ‘microscope’, which, sadly, cannot possibly exist, we would realize that an electron is not a point, but a tiny loop of string. It would only seem like a point because it is way too small. A string can do something aside from moving – it can oscillate in different ways. If it oscillated in a certain way, then, unable to tell if it is a string, we see an electron. If it oscillates in some other way, then it becomes a photon or a quark or a…you get the idea. So, if it is correct, then it means that energy and all its manifestations are just the work of tiny oscillating strings.
“Perhaps the most remarkable thing about is that such a simple idea works. Unfortunately, there is no direct experimental evidence that String theory is true. This is also due to the fact that String theory is still under development.” Richard knowledgeably recited.

2007-06-18T13:09:00.000+08:00

Okay, my story has reached 5000 words.

Now i just have to finish it.

damn

...

2007-06-16T17:22:00.000+08:00

ARGH!!! It is so cheesy. Ok, the dude is proposing, so it has to be perfect. It has to be. Is it okay? I promise, this is gonna be the last time I ask for your help. Seriously. Just check it out.

******

Richard had proposed to Allie twice at the train station, and each time she had said yes. Allie was going to New York for a job interview and would be away for three days. Richard had suddenly jumped up on the step and held the handle, and without another thought in his head he just shouted “Marry me!” The train was pulling out when she just suddenly screamed “Yes!” and blew him a kiss. Three days later, when Allie came back, Richard had gone to the train station, dressed handsomely in a back tuxedo, to wait for her. He pushed passed the waves of people alighting the train and stood in front of Allie. He got down on his knees in front of hundreds of people and suddenly, everyone just stopped moving. They crowded around him, gazing intently. It was as if he had stopped a mighty river from flowing.
He took out a ring and said “Allie, I love you. And I’d like to propose to you, again, but this time I want to do it properly. Truth is I can live without you. Yeah, maybe I would be completely devastated if you said ‘no’, but I would be able to get over it. But that is not the point. Love is not finding someone you can’t live without, but rather someone that you don’t want to live without. I am kneeling down here, on this dirty tiled floor, in front of hundreds of people who are staring at me. There is an empty coke can three inches from my right foot and bubblegum under my shoe. I can hardly hear myself speak over all the noise, but strangely, this is exactly where I want to be…because you’re in front of me. And hey, I could be at home, in a comfy armchair watching TV while I wait for you to come back alone. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to be anywhere else but here. I don’t want to be kneeling in front of anyone but you. But if there is one thing that I do want, then it has to be you. Allie, will you marry me?”

Oh, and btw, my story is already 5200 words long!! Yipee!!!!

2007-06-14T21:47:00.001+08:00

Ok, I've gotten to the love part of my story and, quite frankly, I think it is rather cheesy. Can you guys just read it and tell me what you think? Thanks.

OH! Try to guess what is happening, I think it is quite obvious.

*****

Seven people gathered on a beach on a beautiful spring day. They were all smiling gently. The waves pounded softly on the sand, pulling back almost reluctantly. Allie wiggled her toes in the sand, liking the way it felt against her skin. Her mother had always told her that if she liked going to the beach and had a steady hand with a nail polish, then there was no need to ever go for a pedicure. Sand was a natural exfoliant. Allie looked down at her toes, smiling again. The joy in the air was almost infectious. A white gown trailed at her feet. Her hair fell upon her face. A loving hand brushed it aside. Allie closed her eyes, savoring the way it felt. Something wet and warm found its way to her cheeks. Lips. Allie opened her eyes, looking straight into the deep blue ones that were staring at her so intently as if they were peering into her soul. Richard. Allie’s parents, dressed so smartly, were standing beside Richard’s parents, who were beaming profusely now.

2007-06-13T14:34:00.000+08:00

Ok, since Evee wants to see the rest of my story, I shall post it..start from the beginning again since I changed some of it. The italics dont appear, I cant be bothered to manually do everything, so i only did the thoughts...

Hereyou go:

_______________________________________________________________

Think…
How does this work? God, I can’t just stand here. How in the world did I get myself into this crap? Damn it, focus! Stop frigging complaining! Pull yourself together!
I can run…but I can’t just go…
It is not me that he wants…
How…?
What is wrong with you? How can you think such things? Snap out of it, man! Don’t let him get to you. All you ever wanted is at stake. You can’t give it up!
Yes I can…
I can recover all I lost…
It won’t be the same God damn it!
So? It may not be as good but still, I can be satisfied. I can find another one.
You can’t! Look! Are you willing to give this up?
Maybe not, but neither am I willing to give up my life. That’s what’s important.
Me…
How do I get out of here? The door…he doesn’t want me…he would let me go.
Really?
I can let her go. I must. I have to save myself.
Do I want to?
Oh my God…what’s happening?

*****
Allison knocked hesitantly on the daunting mahogany door, wondering why she had let herself come here. The towering Victorian house, majestic as it was, had an eerie and almost desolate feel towards it, as if it was more of a prison than a home. The door opened slowly, creaking as it did. It somehow made her feel as if its hinges had not been turned in an eternity. A freckled face bearing a thick head of red hair emerged from the darkness. Tom’s pale blue eyes winced gingerly at the brightness of the midday sun. Those very eyes looked as if their color had been torn away by the darkness, and yet there was something about them, something that made you feel as if you could get lost whilst staring at them.
“Hey! Allison! You came,” exclaimed Tom.
“Yes…I did,why wouldn’t I? Oh, and…call me Allie, everyone calls me that,” replied Allie.
I am not “everyone.”
“Okay, if you insist. C…come in!” offered Tom, shyly.
Allie stepped over the threshold.
Boy is this awkward.
“Sorry about the dark, I think something must have short-circuited. Don’t worry, my mother is fixing it.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that. We would need light to do this project. After all, it’s about photons,”
A faint chuckle reverberated though the walls, it sounded unnatural to Allie, forced.
“Well, here we are. The computer is in here, but I don’t think you would want to be cooped up in this small little room all day long now don’t you? Let’s do our work in living room, it’s down the hall.”
Tom Baldwin was probably the least popular sophomore-year student attending Sidney Lanier High School in Montgomery, Alabama. He was, as far as stereotypes go, the nerd, the school geek. He was insanely obsessed with finding some kind of answer to a question that nobody cared about by constantly pouring over book after book. By immersing himself in his research, he attempted to hide from reality, the reality that persecuted him day after day. He was constantly taunted by his classmates. They tried so hard to make his like miserable. Sticking a leg in his path during recess or sticking a note on his back that said “kick me”, they played every childish prank on him imaginable.
He came from a broken family; his father had apparently shot himself to death upon the discovery that he had fathered a son. He thought that his son’s birth would force him into a commitment that he probably never wanted. It was not easy for Tom to grow up with the constant guilt of being the sole reason for his father’s suicide. Tom’s mother made no attempt to alleviate her son of this burden, in fact, most of the time she made it worse. Imagine coming home from school with nothing to expect but a crude remark about how you had caused the death of someone that was extremely important to your mother. She had conveniently denied the fact that Tom’s father may not have even loved her in the first place. One might think that her behavior towards her son was due to the fact that she loved the father of her child deeply, but in truth he was the only person that ever cared, even the tinniest bit, about her, and she did not want to lose that. She knew, however, that she could not just abandon her son, being the incredibly self-conscious woman that she was; she was of afraid what the neighbors might think. The agony that Tom must have endured living a life devoid of motherly love and so full of hate is utterly inexpressible. It was very depressing for him to feel so unwanted in the place that he had no choice but to call home.
Tom wanted to find somewhere that he could hide from the cruel world that he knew. He thought that he would find this salvation in school, where children are taught using the books that he so loved. He was drastically wrong. Not only did his peers show him no compassion whatsoever, they were often far less noble than his mother. To them, Tom was like a punch bag; they could do anything in the world to him and have themselves a good laugh afterwards and nothing would happen. Tom never fought back. He did not think that he had it in him. He would just hide in his books and try to drown his troubles in the conundrums of modern science. Most of the time, of course, it did not work and Tom was left with an insatiable disgust that stemmed from his very soul. Yet he still cowered, letting his fears consume him.
You could almost imagine his surprise when Allison Sullivan, practically the most popular girl in high school, volunteered to be his partner in a science project. Tom had his doubts nevertheless, but even if this girl was trying to benefit from his intelligence, Tom was not bothered. He did not care the slightest bit, and he did not have the nerve to say “no” to her anyway. Her boyfriend was a quarterback. 0
“Hey…um…interesting sweater,” Allie said, pointing to the deep maroon sweater boasting several green polka dots that Tom was snugly fit into. “It makes you look like Christmas, no offense of course.”
“None taken. You’re right, I do look like Christmas. My mother makes me wear this whenever I am at…at home,” replied Tom.
“She has good reason to. It makes you look so…um…happy, like everyday of your life was Christmas.”
“I’m glad you like it. You know what, enough of this small talk, okay? Let’s get started on the project.”

*****
As the day wore on, Allie and Tom’s science project was nearing its completion. Both of them were astounded by their efficiency, and their partner. Allie had proved Tom’s suspicions to be entirely wrong. She was not the superficial bimbo that he had expected. She was smart and had a pleasant sense of humor, but do not be mistaken by her demeanor, she also had a ruthless scientific mind and often found herself quarrelling with Tom on the accuracy of certain theories. Tom was thoroughly impressed.
Allie, as well, had not expected to see this side of Tom. He was confident with himself and spoke of many things with panache that one rarely saw when he was in school. He did not cower and attempt to make himself invisible. He was not shy. He was not afraid. It seemed as if he was entirely at home. He was just so sure of himself. He knew what he was talking about, he was knowledgeable, and that somehow made him feel so at ease. If only the world could see this Tom, the real Tom. But alas, everyone would be too busy laughing at him to notice.
“Oh, hey, I haven’t met your mother. Where is she? You said she was at home, right?” enquired Allie.
“Do we have to talk about her? It’s the one time that she has given me peace and quiet, I don’t want to spoil that by provoking her,” snapped Tom
Allie, growing uneasy, decided to keep quiet. She knew about Tom’s painful childhood but it was all hearsay, gossip that was usually wildly exaggerated. Some of the neighbors had told her that his mother had hated him so much she tried to poison him once, but realizing the seriousness of it all, she had bitterly stopped herself at the last moment. Allie should have known better than to talk to Tom about his mother.

*****
“Hey, Tom, why don’t we take a break? We’ve been working for four hours straight. I think it is safe to say we deserved it, and anyways, I need to take a trip to the bathroom,” Allie stood up, making her way to Tom, who was working at the other end of the room. They had divided the task between themselves and each of them was working on their own.
“No! Not yet, I think I am on to something. Why don’t you go by yourself? The bathroom is down the hall. Beside the room that I said contained the computer,” Tom murmured distractedly.
“On to something? Really? What?” Allie said excitedly. Overwhelmed by both her curiosity and her bladder, she hurriedly ran off to the bathroom, she wanted to be back as fast as she could.
Allie grabbed the first door handle that she saw with a ferocity that should have torn it right off the wood. She slammed her elbow into the door. Bad move. It excited her bladder even more.
Allie had unknowingly entered the “computer room”. Only she could not see any computers, just an overpowering darkness. Allie ran her hand along the wall, searching for the light switch. She flicked it.
This is not the bathroom.
Allie backed against the wall. She let out a gasp that was drowned out by her horror. She felt a wave of nausea sweep over the back of her throat. Closing her eyes, she fought it down. She did not dare open her eyes again for fear of what she would see. She felt every ounce of her screaming out, but the sound was trapped deep somewhere in her soul. Then came the fear. It pounded her continuously, weakening her each time. Her knees were buckling under the pressure. Her hands trembled uncontrollably. A bitter taste flooded into her mouth. Vomit. Instinct told her to scream but that somehow made her feel as if she would be alerting something far darker. No one could know that she was here. No one. At least not at this moment.
“Allie? Are you okay? You’ve been gone a long time. Allie?” Tom noticed the door ajar.
NO! She did not see that!
“Damn it Allie! I told you that the bathroom it was beside that room. Why?! Why did you have to go in there?! I honestly did not want you to see those things. Now look what you’ve done. I can’t let you walk out of here. You will tell someone,” Tom walked towards Allie with a calmness that was unnerving.
Run…
Powered by her fear and disgust, Allie sprinted out of the house. She had no destination to head for. She just ran. Not towards anything in particular but away from something. Tom walked slowly towards the exit with a glint in his eyes that was more frightening than the most diabolical clown. How did such a shy yet good-natured boy morph into this…monster?
One chance. On account of how well you have treated me today. But if you tell anyone…

****
“Oh my God…oh my God…” Allie whispered to herself frantically, “What was that? How…? This is crazy. This is bloody insane. That freak! No…it can’t be…God…then what was that? What was that that I just saw? Oh my god…”Allie broke into tears.
She had wandered into some remote corner of the suburbs. There was no one around save for an old man sitting by the bus stop. He did not really look as if he was waiting for a bus, if he did he would have sat under the sheltered bus stop. There was a kind of sadness in his eyes as he watched Allie break down, as if he was reliving a moment in his past, as if he understood her horror. As if he had seen what Allie had seen, but of course that was ridiculous.
“I have to tell someone,” Allie concluded, “Someone has to know. I can’t keep all of this inside of me, it will destroy me, eat me up. Oh…God…that monster…how is he doing all of this? How did he get his hands on those things? I have to get outta here. Plus that weird guy is creeping me out. Why is he staring at me?”
Allie told the first person that she knew, her boyfriend. He was hanging out with his friends and had urge to check on his girlfriend. He was appalled when he found out that she was doing a science project with what’s-his-name the school freak. Naturally, he was worried, so he popped by her house, and discovered that she had not returned yet. He was just about to leave when he bumped into her. The sight of the usually cool Allie suddenly acting so flustered and panicky scared him a little. What she was about to tell him freaked him out.
Amid the constant whisperings of “chill out” or “calm down” Allie told him what she had seen.
The ‘computer room’ contained no computers, which had at first bewildered Allie. Every time Tom or Allie needed to use the computer to search for something, Tom would run to that room by himself and return ten or fifteen minutes later with the answer. This had naturally seemed peculiar to Allie at that point but she would always promptly forget about it the moment Tom came rushing back with whatever information that they needed. Maybe he was just being a good host. How would he have known those things? And if he already did, why did he have to run there in the first place?
Despite the fact that there were no computers, Allie remembered that the first things she saw were shelves of books. That must be it, the books.
Now, the more she thought of the room, the more it seemed like Tom’s bedroom. She vaguely remembered several personal items scattered all over it: playing cards, a small rubber ball, an old picture of a middle-aged man smiling compassionately. Tom’s father. There were also a bag of marbles and an old action figure that had no right arm. Just as Allie was about to tell her boyfriend that the ‘computer room’ was Tom’s bedroom, she remembered one crucial fact that she had unwittingly overlooked: there was no bed. How could it have been a bedroom if it did not have a bed?
What if the absence of a bed was intentional?
That was an absurd thought but Allie could not help but wonder if it were true. What if Tom’s mother had intentionally refused to put a bed in Tom’s room? Allie had always known that his mother was extremely wary when it came to what other people thought of her. She was just an incredibly self-conscious women, everyone knew that. Since hardly anyone ever visits the Baldwin’s, it was a perfect way of punishing Tom without attracting any attention. Tom’s mother must have really hated her son.
Bedroom or not, that was not the point. The point was what she saw. The hideous things that filled that dreaded room. Allie’s boyfriend was already becoming a bit bored; he had no interest in Tom’s room.
“Look, Allie, I don’t care if it was that freak’s room or not. That’s not what you came here to tell me now is it? What happened?” He put his hand on Allie’s shoulder, hoping that it would calm her down. Allie took a deep breathe and started again. She was trembling.
“Mannequins. There were so many of them. A dozen or so perhaps. He seemed to be displaying them…” Allie paused, her voice was breaking.
“Mannequins? Just mannequins? That’s it? I admit it is freaky but how can plastic figures scare you to this state? Allie, tell me the truth, the whole truth.’
“They were…disfigured,” Allie whispered.
“Disfigured? How? In what way?” Tom asked. Allie seemed overwhelmed, as if she had gotten to the part of the conversation that she had dreaded. She hunched her shoulders and buried her head in her hands. She did not want to go on but she knew that she had to, someone had to know.
“He had stuck things into…” Allie whimpered, “into their breasts. Pens, nails, anything sharp. He drew all over their private parts with a red marker. He had also…he cut off some of the fingers of the mannequins…and…he…he somehow managed to put them…to stick them into the part where…where the…the...” Allie looked downward nervously, “Well…it…it begins with ‘V’…please don’t make me say it…”
“Oh my God!” Allie’s boyfriend exclaimed. He let out a gasp. “I know this is a bit horrifying but I think you are overreacting. I mean it is not like…well it is not that scary.”
Allie stared at her boyfriend. What is wrong with him? She wondered. How can he think like that?
Suddenly, a kind of hysterical laughter filled the air. Allie was more unnerved by this more than anything that she had seen today.
It was her boyfriend.
“Wait ‘til I tell Jack and the gang about this! Wait ‘til the whole school finds out! Don’t you see how funny this is? We like have a reason to torment him now. Think about how we can taunt him!” He was practically skipping as he said this. Then, without another thought about his traumatized girlfriend, he whipped out his cell phone and called his buddies to tell them the news.
Shocked and angry at his reaction, Allie shook her head with distaste. She took out her keys and went to the front porch of her house, leaving him out on the street talking excitedly into his cell phone. With a sigh, she pushed open the door and stepped in, looking forward to collapsing on her bed and letting her mind float dreamily over her memories of what happened today. However, after getting over the initial shock, all Allie could think of was her boyfriend’s reaction. How could he think that way?
I better dump him soon; he is such a dumb jock.
In a way, thinking about her (ex-) boyfriend was a lot easier than thinking about Tom and his mannequins. It was a good way to avoid the main problem. Her mind flashed suddenly to the look on Tom’s face when he realized that Allie had found out about the mannequins. His eyes…they were filled with such hatred and anger…were these the emotions that were hidden in those sad eyes?

*****
Allie arrived in school the day to a great amount of buzzing and commotion along the corridors. Everyone, apparently, was discussing the same thing, which Allie found out, to her dismay, was Tom.

2007-06-13T13:19:00.000+08:00

Okay...My story is now 3227 words long!!!! *Claps excitedly*

I have gotten to the very disgusting and...um...explicit part...and I am stuck...

I don't think i am gonna post my story as it is far too long and no one would read it...but if you guys really want to then I shall...

I still don't like my story...maybe I should have gone for sci-fi as PW said...urgh..I hate sci-fi...

2007-06-13T12:12:00.000+08:00

Welcome to "Elaine Says"!

TODAY

Elaine told me cheekily that Richard Ashcroft, (you know the singer dude) sounded like "Richard Ashcrotch"

...

2007-06-12T17:58:00.000+08:00

Welcome to the new section of my blog entitled "the strangely obscene things that Elaine says"...or just..."Elaine says"

TODAY

Elaine had one of those monster big lolipops...about twice the size of her palm...anyways, she was eating it dilligently for most of the afternoon. Then, she said this:

"I have been sucking this for 7 hours."

Afterwards, the lolipop broke and she took the part that came off. Obviously, at this point she was getting rather sick of "sucking it" so she gave the part still attached to the wooden stick to me. When I had finished the lolipop on it, she told me:

"Give me back the stick. It's mine."

Well...I shall leave you there to ponder...

2007-06-12T13:05:00.000+08:00

My story is becoming as provocative as Pei Wei's...

*sigh*

2007-06-09T16:46:00.000+08:00

Elaine just told me that I should "squeeze my chicken nuggets" to get the oil out of them.

God I hope Charmaine is not reading this.

Ewww...

2007-06-07T12:04:00.000+08:00

I compared my story to Pei Wei's...and bloody hell it sucks. I hate it.
How the hell did it turn out to be so Cliche?
Well, I shall post it and then all of you can marvel at how bad it is.
Oh, and if anyone has any suggestions to rub all that cliche-ness out of my story, you are welcome to tag.

ok...here goes...

Think…
How does this work? God, I can’t just stand here. How in the world did I get myself into this crap? Damn it, focus! Stop frigging complaining! Pull yourself together!
I can run…but I can’t just go…
It is not me that he wants…
How…?
What is wrong with you? How can you think such things? Snap out of it, man! Don’t let him get to you. All you ever wanted is at stake. You can’t give it up!
Yes I can…
I can recover all I lost…
It won’t be the same God damn it!
So? It may not be as good but still, I can be satisfied. I can find another one.
You can’t! Look! Are you willing to give this up?
Maybe not, but neither am I willing to give up my life. That’s what’s important.
Me…
How do I get out of here? The door…he doesn’t want me…he would let me go.
Really?
I can let her go. I must. I have to save myself.
Do I want to?
Oh my God…what’s happening?

*****
Allison knocked hesitantly on the daunting mahogany door, wondering why she had let herself come here. The towering Victorian house, majestic as it was, had an eerie and almost desolate feel towards it, as if it was more of a prison than a home. The door opened slowly, creaking as it did. It somehow made her feel as if its hinges had not been turned in an eternity. A chubby face bearing thick-rimmed glasses emerged from the darkness. Tom’s pale blue eyes winced gingerly at the brightness of the midday sun. Those very eyes looked as if their color had been torn away by the darkness, and yet there was something about them, something that made you feel as if you could get lost whilst staring at them.
“Hey! Allison! You came,” exclaimed Tom.
“Yes…I did, why wouldn’t I? Oh, and…call me Allie, everyone calls me that,” replied Allie.
I am not “everyone.”
“Okay, if you insist. C…come in!” offered Tom, shyly.
Allie stepped over the threshold.
Boy is this awkward.
“Sorry about the dark, I think something must have short-circuited. Don’t worry, my mother is fixing it.”
“I’m glad to hear that. We would need light to do this project. After all, it’s about photons,”
A faint chuckle reverberated though the walls, it sounded unnatural to Allie, forced.
“Well, here we are. The computer is in here, but I don’t think you would want to be cooped up in this small little room all day long now don’t you? Let’s do our work in living room, it’s down the hall.”
Tom Baldwin was probably the least popular sophomore-year student attending Sidney Lanier High School in Montgomery, Alabama. He was, as far as stereotypes go, the nerd, the school geek. He was insanely obsessed with finding some kind of answer to a question that nobody cared about by constantly pouring over book after book. By immersing himself in his research, he attempted to hide from reality, the reality that persecuted him day after day. He was constantly taunted by his classmates. They tried so hard to make his like miserable. Sticking a leg in his path during recess or sticking a note on his back that said “kick me”, they played every childish prank on him imaginable.
He came from a broken family; his father had apparently shot himself to death upon the discovery that he had fathered a son. He thought that his son’s birth would force him into a commitment that he probably never wanted. It was not easy for Tom to grow up with the constant guilt of being the sole reason for his father’s suicide. Tom’s mother made no attempt to alleviate her son of this burden, in fact, most of the time she made it worse. Imagine coming home from school with nothing to expect but a crude remark about how you had caused the death of someone that was extremely important to your mother. She had conveniently denied the fact that Tom’s father may not have even loved her in the first place. One might think that her behavior towards her son was due to the fact that she loved the father of her child deeply, but in truth he was the only person that ever cared, even the tinniest bit, about her, and she did not want to lose that. She knew, however, that she could not just abandon her son, being the incredibly self-conscious woman that she was; she was of afraid what the neighbors might think. The agony that Tom must have endured living a life devoid of motherly love and so full of hate is utterly inexpressible. It was very depressing for him to feel so unwanted in the place that he had no choice but to call home.
Tom wanted to find somewhere that he could hide from the cruel world that he knew. He thought that he would find this salvation in school, where children are taught using the books that he so loved. He was drastically wrong. Not only did his peers show him no compassion whatsoever, they were often far less noble than his mother. To them, Tom was like a punch bag; they could do anything in the world to him and have themselves a good laugh afterwards and nothing would happen. Tom never fought back. He did not think that he had it in him. He would just hide in his books and try to drown his troubles in the conundrums of modern science. Most of the time, of course, it did not work and Tom was left with an insatiable disgust that stemmed from his very soul. Yet he still cowered, letting his fears consume him.
You could almost imagine his surprise when Allison Sullivan, practically the most popular girl in high school, volunteered to be his partner in a science project. Tom had his doubts nevertheless, but even if this girl was trying to benefit from his intelligence, Tom was not bothered. He did not care the slightest bit, and he did not have the nerve to say “no” to her anyway. Her boyfriend was a quarterback.
“Hey…um…interesting sweater,” Allie said, pointing to the deep maroon sweater boasting several green polka dots that Tom was snugly fit into. “It makes you look like Christmas, no offense of course.”
“None taken. You’re right, I do look like Christmas. My mother makes me wear this whenever I am at…at home,” replied Tom.
“She has good reason to. It makes you look so…um…happy, like everyday of your life was Christmas.”
“Well, if you say so. You know what, enough of these awkward conversations, okay? Let’s get started on the project.”

*****
As the day wore on, Allie and Tom’s science project was nearing its completion. Both of them were astounded by their efficiency, and their partner. Allie had proved Tom’s suspicions to be entirely wrong. She was not the superficial bimbo that he had expected. She was smart and had a pleasant sense of humor, but do not be mistaken by her demeanor, she also had a ruthless scientific mind and often found herself quarrelling with Tom on the accuracy of certain theories. Tom was thoroughly impressed.
Allie, as well, had not expected to see this side of Tom. He was confident with himself and spoke of many things with panache that one rarely saw when he was in school. He did not cower and attempt to make himself invisible. He was not shy. He was not afraid. It seemed as if he was entirely at home. He was just so sure of himself. He knew what he was talking about, he was knowledgeable, and that somehow made him feel so at ease. If only the world could see this Tom, the real Tom. But alas, everyone would be too busy laughing at him to notice.
“Oh, hey, I haven’t met your mother. Where is she? You said she was at home, right?” enquired Allie.
“Do we have to talk about her? It’s the one time that she has given me peace and quiet, I don’t want to spoil that by provoking her,” snapped Tom
Allie, growing uneasy, decided to keep quiet. She knew about Tom’s painful childhood but it was all hearsay, gossip that was usually wildly exaggerated. Some of the neighbors had told her that his mother had hated him so much she tried to poison him once, but realizing the seriousness of it all, she had bitterly stopped herself at the last moment. Allie should have known better than to talk to Tom about his mother.

2007-06-04T17:30:00.000+08:00

Shit...How the hell are you supposed to start a bloody story??? Damn it. I am stuck and I haven't even started yet...has anyone started? Other than PW of course (that is not a compliment)

2007-06-04T17:22:00.001+08:00

I LOVE Diablo II Lord of Destruction

And DOTA ain't too bad as well...

2007-05-25T15:32:00.000+08:00

God...I just realised that my last three posts are all about my poetic exploits.

I also realised that I sometimes use the same rhyming words....

*sigh*

2007-05-25T15:06:00.000+08:00

Today's Poetry course was so boring. We were just supposed to sit there and write poems. Just sit. And write. Oh, and I decided to show the picture that the Esplanade poem was about for the sake of those who weren't there. Other than that, I wrote 3 more poems...not AS happy as before but still good nonetheless...(I am so proud of myself.)

Damn it! I can't upload it...stupid blogger...Maybe next time lah.

Oh, and since the instructor was bugging me to write a free verse poem(a poem that doesnt rhyme), I just did it to get her to shut up. Here it is...

Life

What is the point of this meaningless existence?
What is the point of life?
It all seems so redundant to me,
Seriously.

Why do we have to live?
Can’t we just skip this part?
Why don’t we just go to heaven?
Even those meant for hell?

In fact I understand.
Why some must suffer for eternity.
Those that wrongly enter paradise,
Would make it a living hell.

Can’t God just decide,
Where we are meant to go?
Even before we are born.
He knows, right?

Maybe the only reason,
Why we must live as mortals
Is because we are scared
Of the next adventure.

--Cynthia 1GY

But then I decided that I hate this poem and that I can't help rhyming it. Heck, even as I was writing this, I was rhyming it in my mind. I REALLY hate free verse. So I went to write the exact same poem (I had a lot of time), but this time I made it rhyme. hehe...Here goes...

Life

What is the point of this meaningless existence?
What is the point of life?
It all seems so redundant to me,
So full of frigging strife.

Why do we have to live?
Can’t we just skip this part?
Why don’t we just go to heaven?
Even those evil at heart.

In fact, I understand.
Why some must suffer in hell.
Those that wrongly enter paradise,
Would break the enchanting spell.

Can’t God just decide,
Where we are supposed to go?
Since he created my soul,
Shouldn’t he know?

Maybe the only reason,
Why we must live down here,
Is because we are afraid,
Of our next adventure.

--Cynthia 1GY

This one is like so much better, in my opinion, and almost exactly the same...I was fairly amused by myself. Then, as I got really bored, I wrote another poem in fifteen minutes before I went for my recess. I got the initial inspiration from John Nash's life, but then I decided to change it a bit. Schiztophrenia is rather depressing and sad, and I really didnt have a proper ending for it, so I changed it. Read it to find out what it became.

Your Witness

Everyone has a dream,
A hope for something surreal,
But what if you are stuck
In something far from real?

What if you are unable to tell?
What if you do not know?
What if you are schizophrenic?
What if you are drowning in woe?

I want to help you,
To help you find your soul.
The one that makes you who you are,
Not the one that is your foe.

I’ll make my solution simple,
Make it nice for you,
But don’t be fooled by this.
It’s not that easy to do.

You have to find that witness.
That witness to your life,
The one that can salvage the happiness
From your years of strife.

Someone to tell you sincerely,
That your life did not go to waste.
Someone to say that the greatest thing
Was the first time she saw your face.

She shall make your life meaningful,
For she saw it with her eyes.
She shall help you differentiate
Your life from pointless lies.

She is your loving wife,
The one who holds you tight.
The one who says she loves you,
With all her loving might.

--Cynthia 1GY

This is the one that I like the most, and it is by far the longest. The instructor, however, likes the Christ Poem the best. hmmm...I am on my way to becoming the next lindee...but this time, a happy one. :)

2007-05-24T16:24:00.000+08:00

I am sooo proud of myself!!! I wrote 2 more poems in just one day during the poetry course...(once again, haha to Lindee)

We went to Tekka market and the Esplanade today to 'find some inspiration'. Who goes to the wet market to find inspiration?? The Esplanade I understand but the market???? Well, anyways, remarkably, I did find some inspiration. But the instructors couldnt have guessed that right? So why did they bring us to the wet market?

The Esplanade was super cool lah. (and it has air-con so it is doubly cool) Some NUS high school students actually did these extremely detailed painting bigger than me, and guess what? There were all done in one long continuous line! No breaks anywhere at all. I loved those paintings. There was one depicting Christ that attracted my attention the most. I wrote a poem about it. There is also else something weird about it. Instead of a Holy Grail at his feet, this Christ had some science apparatus...hmmmmm

AND AND AND there was also this huge picture of a huge and very detailed brain. It was sooo cool lah.

Anyways, here are my poems...

Esplanade

There is something about the Esplanade,
Something that strikes me queer,
Reminiscent of an airport,
Cold and impersonal it appears.

There are paintings everywhere,
On every corner and wall.
They stare at you resentfully,
As if they envy us all.

One painting does not stare,
It does not have any eyes.
It does not have a mouth to speak,
Nor one to tell any lies.

It is a reference to Christ,
A Christ with curly hair.
He has no Crown of Thorns,
And well-knit clothes he wears.

It has an aura of defiance,
It mocks the body and soul.
And even though I am not a Christian,
It has achieved its goal.

--Cynthia

___________________________________________________________

Smile

I saw this lady at the market,
She was clearing away some food.
She smiled in such a peculiar way,
You couldn’t tell her mood.

If you looked at her from the left,
If you peer closely at her grin,
It points so delicately towards the sky,
Yet it feels like it might leave her chin.

Look at her face from the right, though,
And be shocked by what you see.
There will no longer that Mona Lisa smile,
But rather a frown that hides no glee.

Her real feelings are a mystery,
But I decided for goodness sake,
That I’d rather it be a smile because,
It’s a curve that sets everything straight.

--Cynthia

2007-05-23T19:22:00.000+08:00

Had Creative Writing (Poetry) today...

Not gonna talk about the newsweek poem thing we did because it is all in Pei Wei's blog...(fine, i am lazy)

BUT

Guess what? I officially wrote my third poem ever today. AND it is a happy poem...(haha to Lindee) We were supposed to do some show and tell thing about our treasured possesion...since I left everything to the last minute, I went with the first thing I thought of...my poem/ quote book.

Well anyways, as I was sharing, PW was supposed to copy down a few random words that I was saying. (Actually, she wrote like 20 words, so i cancelled out the ones that I didn't say, the ones that she paraphrased so I was left with 9)

We were then supposed to use those words in a poem. My words were:

Shopping
Forgot
Movie
Quote
Word
Messy
Organised
Poems
Copy

So I wrote the following poem entitied "POEMS"

“Don’t copy poems!”
My mother told me one day.
“Write them yourself!
Say what you have to say!”

“I forgot,” I replied
“What I wanted to do
Was I supposed to copy Blake?
God! I don’t have a clue!”

“You tell me to write my own
But I just can’t do it
The words are all so messy,
They just don’t fit!”

“Then go find some inspiration
Go shopping so as to speak.
Look for it in movies and quotes,
Become a poem freak!”

“How do I make them organized then?
How should I make them flow?
They are definitely not Tennyson,
A rating of zero and below.”--Cynthia

2007-05-01T16:14:00.000+08:00

Ok...I don't know why but i wrote a poem...
It has really cheesy rhymes and my sister says it is kinda ambiguous...
Plus, I don't have a title for it yet...
What do U think about it...
(Lindee, help me out here, i am only a beginner u know)
OK...here goes...

What is Life?
Is it but a roller coaster ride?
Full of twists and turns,
Yet with nothing but air at your side?

What is the point, then,
Of this torturous necessity?
For all that lies at the end,
Is more people, waiting anxiously.

You...are all my reasons.

There are a million things
That would make me want to
Sit down on that seat.
Number one is you.

The gale blowing across my face,
When the ride is in full force,
Is but a zephyr with you here,
Love's doing, of course.

There's a freedom in your eyes,
And even when I am secured in place,
Once I look into them,
I am free like a loose shoelace.

There is only one thing I need,
What more proof do you want?
But it breaks my heart to say,
That have you, I can't.

A roller coaster was never your blessing...

2007-04-30T18:37:00.000+08:00

My sister was appalled when she realised that I wrote about her in both a chinese and english compo with the topic : Describe the person that u admire the most and explain why.

Hehe...I was lying through my teeth (or my hand as Miranda insists).

My head hurts....

Spent the whole bus trip back home burning Faeqa...man, she is no fun to burn...she just keeps saying "Cynthia!!!".

And Pei Wei, I am not gonna join your fan club (or become a full member) because I am not obsessed with you, or anyone for that matter, that much... :) do not kill me...

2007-04-15T12:41:00.000+08:00

To think that the one time i truly lost control of my anger and screamed louder that ever before, it made me see what had eluded me so constantly before. i guess i knew that it was always there, at the corner of my eye, just that i refused to acknowledge in...

He asked a question, (in a very vulgar chinese of course) and i answer by asking him to think of himself. i mean, hey, i must have learnt it from somewhere...

Do u really think cursing and punishing ur daughter when she for one knows (or thinks if u really insist) that u are just trying to repair ur pride.

U wrongfully assumed that it was my fault and thus my responsibility, but i did not feel the sense of urgency u did. U needed it more than me, but when u asked only your wife and searched an area about the size of a desk, and could not find it, u let ur anger consume u and immmediatly pushed the blame on someone else...

me...

Was i wrong to assume that my oh-so-perfect father was competent enough to display the values that he so forcefully instilled (?) in us? I thought that that thing he was so in need of was lost, i thought he had searched everywhere for it...and thus when that responsibility was so unfairly pushed to me, i was at a lost. i knew that i did not lose it, i knew (and i could feel) the extent of my father's anger lest i should not find it. so in self-defence i claimed and screamed that it was not me.
but of course he did not listen...

i refused to search for i thought someone had already looked, and that it was pointless to search again...

a grave mistake...

i got severely punished...

but then halfway through it, a voice came from upstairs, my brother, he asked what all the noise was about.

He had it, all along, while i suffered for my own father's incompetence.

i thought he would have asked his own son first before drawing any conclusions.

so i got lost in all my anger, i was wronged, and suffered so much for nothing. i screamed at my parents.

that was all they heard.

heck, they did not feel sorry at all, in fact, they scolded me for being unable to search, that i brought it upon myself when i got lost in fear. they blamed me for not asking my brother if he had the it.
they then started cursing about how rotten a child i am, how disrespectful i was for screaming at my parents...but hey, if u dont respect me then it is not in my capacity to respect u.

but in the end, it is all my fault.

so now what is my fate? well, for one, my father (?) will no longer drive me to school (weak...), i guess my pocket money would be in trouble. (i think that it would no longer exist) And finally, my parents will no longer be parents, they would come to the conclusion that they owe me nothing and find ways to make me regret. t0 make me feel guilty.

pfft...try angry. try more disrespectful. because if in the end, i find i no longer need to depend on u for anything, i would fear u no more. and without that fear, well, good luck.

i guess u got everything u wanted when u taught me to think so cruely and without compassion.
ur greatest fault was ur inability to admit ur mistakes, and now, MY so-called mistakes would share the same fate.

i learnt it from somewhere.

and whose fault is it?

Whose fault is it???!!!

2007-04-01T19:36:00.000+08:00

God I am pissed...

My dad got into another one of his arrogant temper flairs again...

He was exclaiming about how stupid my brother was to join OCS to become an officer.

And then he arrogantly stated that he KNEW that we (brother, sister and me) were all finished. He said it in such a detestable way as if he purposely wanted me to hear him but acted as if I wasn't there, an insignificant little speck.

Then he started to blame my mother for allowing my brother to swim til he was sec 3, saying something about studying being the top piority...

My brother would not have been able to get into Raffles if not for his swimming...do u know how many bloody medals he has from all the compettitions he participated in?

And then he just suddenly turned the spotlight on my sister and me...once again exclaiming as if he knew everything that we were finished and saying that our CCAs were useless, that we should just study...then he said we were finished once again...

Just because i dont study at night doesnt allow him to assume, as he has already done, that i dont study at all.

I really couldnt be bothered to protest any more, for i had already told him a million times that i am not a lazy idiot, but he just CHOOSES to ignore all that, chooses to ignore all the times when i did well for my tests, seeing only my faults.

He said that i am finished, no matter how hard i try, but yet at the same time he forces me to study because he thinks that i dont.

He has surely contradicted himself. Why study if i am destined to be finished in the future as he so arrogantly states? Hmm, now he is a claivoyant eh? On top of his being the most hardworking and 'perfect' man that ever existed? He was always boasting about how he always got top in his class, about how he is always right and about how we should learn from him...

Why, then, doesn't he earn a bombastic salary?

And when my mother told him that I am doing well in my tests he indignantly said 'so what?' (My dad never knows what is happening with me for he simply does not bother to get to know his own daughter, he does not care to ask) Why study for a test if the only reward i get for topping it is a bloody scolding about how useless and insignificant i still am?

God i hate the arrogance of men...

Just fuck off...

2007-03-11T17:25:00.000+08:00

Well, saw this on lydia's blog and decided to try it again. Just feel like seeing what happens...
1. Put your music player on shuffle.

2. Press forward for each question.

3. Use the song title as the answer to the question even if it doesnt make sense. NO CHEATING!

4. Bold the questions and with the answers, give your own comments on how it relates to the questions.

How are you feeling today? Gavin Degraw--Against All Odds

Huh? Doesnt make much sense...maybe it means that (as the song goes) i lost someone/something and i really want it back...could it be that i am trying my best to not die of boredom (i spent the whole day reading that stupid chinese story book, da chang jin).

Will you get far in life? Bon Jovi--You Give Love A Bad Name

Oh god...is that a no??sad...maybe it means that i will grow up to be a bitch and break some poor guy's heart...damn...*shudder*

How do your friends see you? Ronan Keating--The Way You Make Me Feel

GOSH...They are in LOVE with me?? "Like the sun coming up in the morning, like holding the world in your hands. In a way i can never imagine"...scary...REALLY scary...i'm locking my room door at night man...(Well, it is actually better than last time...i got Pink--Stupid Girl last time...Elaine was laughing her butt off then)

Will you get married? Josh Groban--To Where You Are

(Why is this song in my iPod??) I guess that is a yes...

What's your best friend's theme song? The Calling--Wherever You Will Go

Who are u dying to follow, Dia Dia??

What is the story of your life? Bowling For Soup--Almost

God...i hate getting second place. Man, this sucks...

What was primary school like? Fort Minor--Believe Me

Well...does this mean that Unity doesnt want me to leave? Awwwww. But then again it could also means that Unity has not been treating me well...SO not true...

How can you get ahead in life? LeAnn Rimes--But I Love You

Huh? Dont get it...maybe it means that i have to find someone i love and settle down (ME?? Settle down???god...)

What is the best thing about your friends? Heather Headley--In My Mind

So i guess this means that you guys are unforgettable...(as the song goes) u guys will always remain with me...awww, so sweeeeet

What is in store for this weekend? Mariah Carey--Shake It Off

Huh? I'm gonna dump someone?

What song describes you? Gavin DeGraw--Just Friends

I can't live without my friends...

To describe your grandparents? Rascal Flatts--God Blessed The Broken Road

(My grandmother is dead though...) So they really love each other and struggled a lot before they found each other?

How is your life going? LeAnn Rimes--Whatever We Wanna

So...i am gonna get whatever i want??:)

What song will they play at your funeral? Yellowcard--Drifting

That's nice....

How does the world see you? Toni Basil--Hey Mickey

"Oh Cynti u so fine, u so fine u blow my mind." There's a nice ring to it...

Will you have a happy life? LeAnn Rimes--I Want To With You

(Why in the world are so many LeAnn Rimes song popping up??) Doesnt make sense...

What do your friends really think of you? Shakira--Hips Don't Lie

Oh god...u guys are sick...

Do people secretly lust after you? Evannessence--Bring Me

hmmm...i dont know what to say (my head is starting to hurt again...heck, it should...computors are starting to give me a headache)

How can I make myself happy? Good Charlotte--Riot Girl

Get some serious attitude??

What should you do with your life? 3 Doors Down--Here Without You

Huh? Long for someone?

Will you ever have children? White Stripes--Seven Nation Army

Oh god...thats tooooooooo many kids...well, at least i will have an army of children to terrorize Elaine with...*malicious grin*

2007-03-03T12:00:00.000+08:00

AHHH...

Man, haven't updated this blog in a long time. Got to change the Blogskin...

Finally back from Melaka...

Man, that trip really sucked for me. I got sick on the afternoon of the first day, turned out it was a throat infection.

Throat infection?

I just don't get those. Never.

So my first and second day were kinda slammed...couldn't really enjoy it much.

And to make matters worse, I had to pay RM60 for the stupid checkup I had to have at the local clinic. Ruined my shopping at Mahkota on the last day when I was actually feeling loads better.

Well, I did take a bunch of pictures about all the historical sites...

My head hurts too much to go on any further...

Sad...what a short entry...

2007-02-04T10:18:00.000+08:00

God...its been so long since i last updated my blog...i've got soo much sch work already. i have to go meet up with my classmates for a project later on. i have like 4 uncompleted projects just waiting for me when i get back plus a Lit test that i have to study for...great...

i am kinda freaked out. some time ago, we had a talk about blogging and what you should say one your blog and stuff like that. i realised that somewhere in my blog, i mentioned that i hate the SCGS food. now there is a mysterious 'someone' at my tagboard, and that person said "do you know who is reading this?" and some SC senior also tagged. i really shouldn't have told people my blog man...

Am i getting paronoid???

can that "someone" reveal herself/himself. please??? i am getting rather freaked out.

And this is just to Pei Wei, who keeps putting quotes on my blog, i have got enough quotes already man...don't need anymore...

Why is it that everyone in the whole of my class seems to know my blog???

i think that was a mistake on my part...

2007-01-12T15:36:00.000+08:00

Man, sec life so hard to get used to. After a such a long break, I just can't seem to get used to homework...or the bad food for that matter...

I really like my science teacher, but the sad thing is, she is only a temporary teacher...meet my actual teacher on monday...

I can't stand my Lit teacher. It's not that she's strict or anything. She's just soo boring and i really can't stand the way she speaks, it's like soo fake and bimbo...i think the only thing i would need during her class is a bucket. You know, when she first opened her mouth, i seriously got extremly naseous.

Every other teacher is only okay, none of them are really that fun...

My class as a whole is not bad actually (although it would never beat 6C). But because of the wide variety of scholars and like british and canadian people and stuff, you get a lot of people speaking like that damn Lit teacher. The girl seating beside me (Tiziana) studied in china for like a year...her chinese still sucks btw, like a little better than the worst (Me!!). We get along quite well, but as i mentioned before, she's a bit too girlish and rather spoilt like Melanzzo.You get a lot of joking and laughing in my class (like i think someone was called a mushroom for her new haircut, maybe i don't want a haircut after all...).

But the HCL class was a whole different matter. Half the time, i don't get what everyone is saying. Everybody soooooo cheena. From what i heard, the Cl class is a whole different matter, they say that the Cl teacher would speak english from time to time since her Eng is really not bad...

Oh, just remembered, the Lit teacher is only temporary, she's gonna teach til May or March or something.

I may still need that bucket...

I still like Unity better...

First Day of School...

2007-01-03T17:55:00.000+08:00

Well, first day of school today. Had to wake up really early because of Elaine. Got there at like 6.30 when school starts at 7.20. I was freezing my butt off in the car, the uniform's sleeveless and my dad wouldn't turn down the air-conditioning...

I made a friend, her name is Tiziana (I think i just call her 'T') She's like a crazy-spontaneous-kinda outgoing-funky and funny gal. A bit too girlish though... We made each other do crazy stuff like massaging the shoulders of this china girl and telling her "I like your shoulders" and punching that same girl. Poor girl really...

There were like a shit-load of scholars in my class, very hard to pronounce their names...

The Performing Arts put up a...performance lah... The band was kinda boring, but got a lot of CCA points though. The Choir was kinda cool, they do like musicals and stuff, I watched them do a musical and sing some angelic-like songs. The musical had like some rather blatant humour ,which isn't my kind or humour (I prefer witty humour), but the songs were still funny all the same. The thing is, they don't compose their own songs for the musical, they sing things like High School Musical and stuff.

The drama performance was by the sec twos and it wasn't all that good plot wise and the acting was only okay. There was only one who could act and not come across as fake. There was this one girl acting as a boy-punk thingy, and she was by far the worse. Ironically, I think I would have been able to play that role the best. But for the Auditions, must memorise a short script on the spot and act it out...scary...

The dance was cool, but not really my thing...

And to save the worst for last...

THE FOOD SUCKS!!!

It's expensive and plain. The noodles were like plain noodles without any topping... the rice was disgusting, got no sauce...there wasn't any lasksa or chicken rice stall. There was only so little to choose from. I can't stand that man, I need a lot of food

A LOT.

How am i gonna make it through the day with an empty stomach????? Not fair, elaine's school food very good, mine so lousy...

NOT FAIR!!

2007-01-01T15:52:00.001+08:00

Happy New Year!

My sister's new year's resolution is to make one. I can't even think of one. Well, what can I say, I guess I will always be a drifter, going wherever the wind blows...

Maybe I could make one up right now. Hmm, lets see...

Study hard (Duh...)
Do my best in whatever CCA I choose.
Expand my wardrobe. (Obviously, I only have 2 pairs of wearable pants and 2 nice tops)
Read finish 'Pride and Prejudice'. (This is gonna take the whole year...)
Memorise the three laws of Thermodynamics. (I love talking crap!)
Get used to wearing a DRESS to school... (This is total Bullshit man)
Get a nice haircut (Or maybe 2 haircuts, my hair grows really fast.)

Oh, I wrote a poem. Like the first and last time probably. I was really bored. Could you post this on your blog, Audrey? It's not as ambiguous as Elaine's trademark poems. It's simpler, loads simpler. I guess for me write this, it probably means that I'm still in my lovey dovey mood. Well, just read the poem...enjoy!

What Is Love?

Love is Blind,
Love is True,
Love is Kind,
Simply Love will do.

Love is Beauty,
But an acquired taste.
Love is Eternity,
Not an act of haste.

Love is a Classic,
Read by our hearts,
A timeless epic,
A work of art.

2006-12-28T15:36:00.000+08:00

I feel like talking about poems...

In fact, I'm in a really weird mood. I feel very lovey-dovey... I feel like watching romance movies and reading love stories. Maybe this is how Audrey feels everyday... Well, I guess I'm gonna leave a love poem by William Blake here...and maybe a couple more. William Blake writes magnificent love poems.

The Clod and the Pebble
Love seeketh not Itself to please,

Nor for itself hath any care;

But for another gives its ease,

And builds a Heaven in Hells despair.

So sang a little Clod of Clay,

Trodden with the cattle's feet;

But a Pebble of the brook,

Warbled out these metres meet.

Love seeketh only Self to please,

To bind another to Its delight:

Joys in anothers loss of ease,

And builds a Hell in Heavens despite.

William Blake

___________________________________________________________________

Well, there you go. It seems like a love poem to me only I don't know what the pebble is there for. I think I'm gonna put 'The Raven' by Edgar Allan Poe next, I think something as dark and scary as that must work wonders for my love sickness thingie (or is it spelt 'thingy').

The Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

" 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door--

Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow--vainly I had tried to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow--sorrow for the lost Lenore--

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore--

Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

" 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door--

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door--

This it is and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you"--here I opened wide the door--

Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

but the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"

Merely this, and nothing more.

Then into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon I heard again a tapping somewhat louder than before,

"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore--

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore--'

Tis the wind, and nothing more!"

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;

Not that least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door--

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door--

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore--

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!

"Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

though its answer little meaning--little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no sublunary being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door--

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour,

nothing farther than he uttered--not a feather then he fluttered--

Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before--

On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

Wondering at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,

Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

Followed fast and followed faster--so, when Hope he would adjure,

Stem Despair returned, instead of the sweet Hope he dared adjure--

That sad answer, "Nevermore!"

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, bust and door;

Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore--

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,

But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,

She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, me thought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

"Wretch," I cried "thy God hath lent thee--by these angels he hath sent thee

Respite--respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!

Let me quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!--

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--

On this home by Horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore

Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!

"Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore--

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.

"Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sing of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting--

"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken!--quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!

"Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming,

And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating off the floor

Shall be lifted--nevermore!

Edgar Allan Poe

2006-12-25T12:44:00.000+08:00

Well, it's Chrismas...

I haven't really got anything to do or say...

damn...

So...I think I'm gonna leave you with a couple of quotes from famous people(Audrey, you might want to check this out)

Mark Twain

(1835-1910) [Samuel Clemens] American Author, Humorist

I don't like to commit myself about heaven and hell - you see, I have friends in both places. (Now that's a severe BURN! Try on enemies)

It is better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid than to open it and remove all doubt. (Try telling this to Keira Knightly...)

It's not the size of the dog in the fight, its the size of the fight in the dog.

Love your enemy, it will scare the hell out of them. (So it was Mark Twain who said this...I had no idea)

Man is the only animal that blushes. Or needs to. (That's oringinal)

Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow. (Once again, I had no idea the author of 'Huckleberry Finn said this...)

When in doubt tell the truth. (What if the thing you doubt IS the truth? Hmm)

William Shakespeare

1564-1616) English Poet, Playwright, Actor

All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts. [As You Like It] (This is a classic)

If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. [Twelfth Night] (Understand? Neither do I, I just like the way it sounds)

Love looks not with eyes, but with the mind. And therefore is wing'd cupid painted blind nor hath love's mind of any judgment taste. Wings and no eyes figure unheady haste. And therefore is love said to be a child. Because in choice, he is oft beguiled. [A Midsummer Night's Dream] (I think only Shakespeare himself knows what he is yabbering about.)

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date. [Sonnets: XVIII] (Try that to your date. In my opinion, there are only 2 different responses. 1: Your date understands and falls in love OR 2: Your date doesn't and thinks you're a geek... then again, i think there is only one response...)

What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet. [Romeo And Juliet] (I love this quote)

You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, And soar with them above a common bound. [Romeo and Juliet] (Isn't Romeo and Juliet one of Shakespeare's best plays??)

And Finally...

(Yo, Lydia, You might want to check this out)

William Blake

(1757-1827) English Poet, Mystic, Painter

A truth that's told with bad intent Beats all the lies you can invent. (Rhyme-master Blake)

Exuberance is beauty. (What does 'exuberance' mean?)

He whose face gives no light, shall never become a star. (That's really nice)

If a thing loves, it is infinite. (This dude is so sensitive man...)

No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings.

To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour. (Wow...)

The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity - and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself. (Man, that's deep...)

What is now proved was once only imagined. (So true...)

SCGS

2006-12-22T18:10:00.000+08:00

Well, got into SCGS...now what?

Truth be told, is seriously hate the location that stupid school(that I have to spend the next 4 years of my life...so I better quit complaining...I'll try). Right in front of that school is an ERP, and just a short while away is RGS...sian...the school I really wanted to go. It sorta like mocks you in the face "I'm here, come and get me...wait, your PSLE score missed me by a few points so get lost." Plus, the bus stop is on the other side of the road, but i can cross it because there is this huge hedge blocking me. I have to go one big friggin' round to get there.

Why can't we just chase perfection despite it's non-existence.

You know what i just don't get? Why do people want to live forever? An immortal life Vs. a Mortal...

If you are mortal, you could just drop dead at any moment, doesn't that make things a whole lot sweeter and more beautiful? As opposed to living forever, where life is just seemingly monotonous to me. Yeah, you would probably be able to do anything you want with infinite time, but you would probably have to attend the funerals of countless of loved ones.

LIVING FOREVER

Why Live Forever?

Some people want to live forever simply because they are afraid of dying.

If we could keep brilliant scientists alive, they could keep contributing to progress. imagine Aristotle living to find out he was totally wrong about practically everything! Ha! In your face man!

If we lived forever-or much longer than we do now- we might look after our enviroment better, because we would live long enough to see the results of our actions.

Why Not?

Many countries suffer from overcrowding and food shortages. If people don't die, these problems would get worse and worse.

If you were immortal, you could never retire, because you pension would run out, you would have to work forever.

Many religious people believe they will become immortal in another world after they die. because of this, they have no desire to stay on earth forever.(Like me)

Time Is

2006-12-20T23:15:00.000+08:00

Time Is

Too Slow for those who Wait

Too Swift for those who Fear

Too Long for those who Grieve

Too Short for those who Rejoice

But for those who Love

Time is not.

Henry Van Dyke