We're just a condensed version of the Mad Hatter, sarcasm in its entire beauty and cracked-up lines of humour.

Sarcasm.

Noun: The use of irony to mock people or convey contempt

People are hypocritical. Yes, please do get that into your mind before we proceed any further.

Hypocritical.

a person who pretends to have virtues, moral or religious beliefs, principles

We all have that time, when we get an A for a test and someone else fails it. And when we do compare marks, don't we all go, 

"Oh... Uh, I didn't do as well, I mean, you'll be able to do it better next time?"

When deep in our hearts, we are secretly happy that we managed to top the class and prove ourselves to be smarter than most. 

People are hypocritical. 

Why?

Because we are humans. Humans have emotions. (check.) Humans do crave for companionship. (check) Humans are easily--quite easily-- pressured, or conditioned to a certain type of behaviour. (check) 

And that is why, because we crave so much for companionship and because society dictates us to score well and be the 'best' of everything (most importantly, exams), we turn so complex. We think that scoring well in examinations is a good thing and it will earn respect, which may lead to appreciation and ultimately, companionship. 

But society, is after all, made up of humans. This is an interesting observation.

Much like prejudice--people crave companionship. It's all like a domino effect. Someone (A) hates a peculiar behaviour of a person. A spreads it to B, and because B wants A as a friend, B goes all, "YEAH" and they corrupt more minds of people (twenty-six letters in the alphabet, all waiting to crumble).

So there.

It's rather funny, so... intriguing that humans are the core of this entire complex and frustrating society. That humans love to do these silly things. That we actually--I'm not even sure--have a brain, like one that functions properly and generates ideas, generates all kinds of...

I'm pretty amazed by the human brain, sorry.

So there, I'm sure we're all hypocrites. Nothing to be ashamed of. 7 billion plus minus people are out there with you, dear :D

Yours,

a hypocrite.

blooger?

Oh god I hate that "please prove you're a robot thing"

It's really stupid and kinda makes you want to question:

WHY ON EARTH WOULD THERE BE A ROBOT.
(haha, pun noted.)

And you start to question the authenticity of the country's sanity and whether your whole life is a big, miserable lie. You start questioning your existence, whether this was just a whole big dream and you were actually a robot--

but hey! A dream within a dream! Dreamception~

So anyway, getting back to the irritating thing.
I had a horrible experience with it. I accidentally typed "s" instead of "e" and it went all:

"PLEASE TRY AGAIN. ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE NOT A ROBOT? THE CODES DON'T MATCH"

Oh goodness, please! Wouldn't it be more likely for a robot to get it right instead of a human? I mean, humans have flaws. Robots are programmed to do stuff! So technically, they're much more... inclined to get the right things! And humans have horrible eyesight!

So there.
I'll do a more detailed rant later.
rawr.

LONDON OLYMPICS! <3
Let there be Quidditch! 

the cheshire cat smirks in furious agony

It's been a while, hasn't it?
I miss you too--that's alright.

Somehow all the contradictions in my life has blended into one [painfully]
All these times, I've been furiously weak.
Thoughts lingering and stinging my conscience.
how could you think that

I thought I was alright,
I thought I might--
Not a single syllable of my name mentioned.
You and I have history, or don't you remember?


I was fine with it,
then it just came
and I couldn't help but ponder slightly.
oh, you of little faith--


I thought perhaps,
I didn't know.
Even the girl who's been there for people needs
someone to be there for her, isn't it?

Altogether I think I may start dying.

Useless, weak propaganda fills up my ears.
I need more chocolate.

I don't know if I should cry or not.

stories unfold and caramel apples bob up and down.

I thought of another story to tell.

Ohgodwhyisthishappeningtome.

He tells her, once, of the sweet, caramel apple. Bobbing red with a fresh layer of lie. He stares at her. She takes the apple, peels its lie layer by layer and hands him the fruit. He devours it whole and leaves the [apple] core of truth to her care. It rots and burns her.


He tells her, twice, of the beautiful, fragile flowers. Alive with happiness and grace. He stares at her. She gives him her youth and watches as he mercilessly plucks the petals one by one. He hands her the wilting flower of her youth and walks away.


She grows old.


He tells her, thrice, of the pure, unstained canvas. Rough with tales of aging, yet light as a feather. He stares at her. She glances at her own canvas, framed up and hanging around her neck. She removes the canvas from the frame and passes it to him. Her soul is in his hand.


This time, he walks away, vanishing, leaving her with the wilted flower and the burning, stinging core of truth.


Every single person he meets, and yes, he meets every single one of them--they pass him their apples, their flowers and their canvases. 


Oh yes, and his name is "Life".


lalalala.

sigh.
sleeeeeeeppppppppp.

of crepe paper flowers and dainty fingers.

I have fallen in love with making paper carnations (or simple flowers).

It's fun and so relaxing. I don't think I'm going to school tomorrow.
My eye still hurts a little and Dad thinks I should go and consult a doctor.

Ironically, Ollie falls asleep while listening to "Ollie Falls Asleep" by Berlinistband :D
We have around 35 minions/waffle buddies. It's interesting :D

I shall write a poem about algebra, if I feel up to it.
Basic updates: I am screwed.

Well, put it lightly this way... Next Tuesday, I will be doing something stupid. And I'd probably make a fool of myself. I want to make more paper flowers.
Ahhh, crepe paper, where are you.
I never actually thought we could be emotionally tired. After ERIL task, I was more of emotionally tired. I was numbed, like it ached to even feel emotions.
But CCA cured that alright, making me more emotionally tired. Every single damned time I perform a story, I feel so tired afterwards.
Squishy(2) has scared me with her fangirliness. =3=

My... story (to be put... crudely):

The first time. They say to her, whisper words in her ears, "Ugly." They call her ugly. Ugly because of her crooked nose. Because of her mismatched socks. They call her "ugly."


The second time. The doctor says to her, "Beautiful, pretty, my creation." He pats her face and slowly removes the bandages from her face, giving her the mirror. She undergoes a makeover. "Beautiful," they say.


The third time. It is her conscience speaking. No, it is not speaking--it is screaming, yelling, hollering. It asks of her--demands of her, why she let them do it. Why she let herself under the knife. Why she let them change her. 


She doesn't answer, never.


The fourth time. No one speaks. No--there is no fourth time, not as she feels the wind rushing through her hair. No, this time, she falls from the building, seeking death. 
Release.
Because she cannot live with another identity that's not hers.
Because she cannot live, masked with this plastic face.
But now she is herself again.
And now, she is beautiful.

lalala.I can't really recall my exact words, but I think I stumbled a lot. :D
lalalala.
Oh god I want to sleep but I have work. Why you do this to me, oh dear work. =3=

what is right and wrong? do we all know?

Whatever you do, just remember to come home.

Sarcasm is a merely a friend ((phantom friend)), that's too laid-back and self-centered.

People don't just turn into fiends overnight.

Wrong, is simply a word.

I don't know how people manage to think so complexly... It's like we're reverting back to our ancestors, becoming barbarians.

Are we progressing? Or not?

It's then I realise that society's made up of humans.

Sis and Dad are discussing right and wrong.
Dad makes a point about prisons.
Sis rebuts, agitated.
Dad says that those who don't contribute to society will have to be killed.
Sis pulls in bro.
Dad says that he will have to be killed in such circumstances.
They get to right and wrong, whether it's actually useful to imprison people when they know it's not going to help the criminals turn over a new leaf.
I eat more breakfast.
Sis makes a point about how warped society is.
Dad asks for my point of view in this matter.
I shrug.
"Well..."
Sis asks me what right and wrong is.
"They're just words."
Sis seems a little more angry.
Sis asks where I would find the definition of right and wrong.
"In the dictionary."
Sis looks really angry.

Later I ask Dad if I said something wrong.
He says no.
"I want to be a genderless alien."
"Well, okay."
"Actually, I want to be a penguin-ninja. Or a fish-giraffe hybrid. I really don't mind."
...
"I just want to be anything other than a human."
"Why?"
"People are so complex. I think aliens are simpler."
"Well, you are an alien." laugh.
"I could be, for all we know. I could even be a pencil that's been experimented on, hence having brains and being able to dream of being a human."
"We could all be pencils."
"True. Like those wobbly kinds?"
"I think I'd be mechanical."
...

I'm just not in the mood to think so much.
Humans are complex.

Nods.

theory-wise, we are all scary.

THIS IS SCARING ME.

On the surface, I have 7 followers.

BUT WHEN I CLICK ON THE TAB.
IT SHOWS 6.

whoareyoustalker?whoareyou.

error 404. the following data cannot be retrieved. please refresh the page. nah, don't try that. the blogger is just too shocked to type anything.

I AM BEING STALKED :D

...
but anyway, it's probably just some computing error :D

let's hear my theory on scary stalker people.

people = destroyers of nature = monsters = scary.

got it? moving on.

scary = scary.

duh.

stalkers = dangerous (potential's there, anyways) = scary

in algebra, we take ab as a x b.

so...
scarystalkerpeople = scary x stalker x people.

taking into account the above,
it's:

scary x scary x scary, which would make:

scary-cubed.

WHICH IS REALLY SCARY.

...
but we could add a few 'scary's in front.
oh well.

THIS WAS A WASTE OF TIME. :D
yay.
I have a headache, so I don't feel like doing Math.
MATH MATH MATH.
NAG NAG NAG.

almost the same.
factors of math seep into brains and lead stray thoughts of potatoism into minds.

lalala.

rantrantrant

There's going to be only about 7 CCA sessions before the sec 4s go.

...
This is kinda sad.
Actually, very sad. Is this some kind of ritual they go through every single year?
Well--I guess they do have to prepare for finals. STILL.
And CCA is going to end so soon. So SOON.
Aaaaand, we'll be sec 2s and we will have RESPONSIBILITY.


Not very fun, to be exact.

I WILL DO ANOTHER CCA MURO DRAWING! :D
...soon.

I will miss you, Marina [Bay] :')

Project Steampunk--accelerated!!!!

On the double! :D
-will be postponed to after EOYs. WHY IS THERE BLOCK TEST 3? WHY. WHY.

I JUST DID A ((SHERLOCK)) OBSERVATION OF MARINA. I AM SO AWESOME :D

angst ahead. YOU DON'T WANT TO READ.

THAT'S IT. NO MORE NYES MURO DRAWINGS.

I AM AN IDIOT. A HUGE, CAPITAL-LETTER-LISED IDIOT.

OH WHY.

WHY DO I EXIST. WHY WHY WHY.

I'MMA GO AND CRAWL INTO A CORNER AND DIE.

IDIOT ME IDIOT ME IDIOT ME.

Bacon abuse. ; - ;

roses are red,
facebook is blue.
we have no mutual friends,
so who the hell are you?

...
sighsighsigh.

Why. So. Serious.

I fear growing up, because then, people change.

Change a lot. A lot.

So much that they paint up acrylic ((masks)) of their own desires and plaster it onto their own -ugly- faces.

It has been fashion, ever since, to find -maturity- and dab it onto lips
                                                                                                       
{and smack those glossy lips with s.a.t.i.s.f.a.c.t.i.o.n, letters of praise stringing together}

And then to don a suit of **elegance**--wrapped up in all ~ribbons~

But they often lose their true selves-- which are in fact, h
                                                                        a
                                                                            n
                                                                               g
                                                                                  i
                                                                                    n                                
                                                                                      g by a few
==strands== of childish dreams.

No one ever returns to find them, for they are stuck too     ↓  
                                                                            ↓
                                                                      ┘DEEP┌
 in the masquerade of #perfection#

Goodbye, world.
[where $money$ is more ^important^ than the factors of TxRxUxTxH]

If you wish to look for me, I'll be @t platform ¾

Well, hello sir we look for Monday.

I kinda want a blogskin, but it's too much of a trouble. So here, I changed the template and it looks rather neat and pretty to me :D

Dreaming out loud, dreaming out loud.
-forever hidden under the abstractions of the rubik's cube-
I'm the king of the world.
-counting golden promises that melt away under my shaky, timid laughter-
Storm tries to come and wreck my words.
-I just need a lightning (splinters of a lava lamp)-

Well, hello sir, we look for Monday.
-my favourite lines always have to end with a slight twist to it.-


This is why I'm a Onerepublic fan and not a Direction((less?)) fan.

It's like wry and ironic, so mysterious, like the Cheshire cat.

Onerepublic writes their own songs. Beat that, peeps.

I love love love love love this band :D

Project Steampunk on the way!


Well, hello sir, we sleep on Monday. 
-indeed, I'm not looking forward to LA SIA story telling. BT2 was just over...-

BT2 has ended and the panda is happy :D

BT2 has finally ended. I'm escaping to the wonders of blogger, the peaceful site for some... comfort. Just got off the hectic war site of a web site. It was a poke war :D I think I should lay off poke wars for some time. My notifications are bursting already, but anyway... :)

Ahhhhh, Dobby is a free elf and wishes to thank Harry Potter for vanishing away all those evil papers. Dobby... is... free :D

I miss blogger. Facebook scares me. I think I'll go and read a fanfiction.

Eilun has gotten me hooked on Sherlock :D Sherwatson :D I just can't help but ship them.
'Alone on the water' is a nice fanfiction as well :D

Okay, I think I'll go bug people :D

--Me

When I get a gift for someone, it's going to be a Harry Potter book, and I'm not going to write any well-wishes for the person. Just three words.

"Use it well"

:D