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

Post-it ノート: Arr, you bag of simpleton.

"I pen down my dreams in flickering wisps of chords for her to sing out in melodious, hopeful lyrics"

"Because songs are vocalised sermons of literature--from the heart"

"Power corrupts--absolute power corrupts absolutely"

"I have hope, so let me keep it"

--notes taken down happily

Enjoy the music below while I rant.

Had a lot of inspiration today, heard a local band singing and I thought it was rather nice.

Struggling with the temptation to sleep, yet I has done nothing--nothing-- productive today. Not at all.

I haven't even planned for tomorrow! Went to Changi Terminal 3 and saw a lot of things I wanted to buy. But they are:

1. Expensive
2. More of a "want'' than a "need" to me.

I spent 2++ hours in the library reading a book. And it was so amusing, because I was triumphed by the simply amazing twist of the book. Got home, lazily went to bathe. And now, blogging.

In other words, wasting away precious sleep time.

I have microfiction to do (but let's just do it... later.)

Organising some sort of gathering soon, a little... messy?

Gahh. I need to study a lot for June hols. I has decided to make a (very, very sketchy) list of things to do:

1. MATH (BT2 is really gonna be hard, I've heard)
2. CHINESE ( I NEED TO TOUCH UP ON IT.)
3. EXERCISE (harhar.)
4. Learn to be a better person (no comment)
5. Finish a sketchwork. OR a paint work. Anyway, something decent. AND COLOUR IT. (if it's a sketch, then... black and white)
6. Finish a play :D (this should be ranked last.)
7. Learn to ride a bike. (without any casualties, I hope)
8. Improve my writing skills
9. READ A LOT OF BOOKS. :D

I am tired now. I am tired. I need sleep.

Oh banana I just wasted one whole day away.

But at least I got to eat some caramel chocolates :D

I have made up new resolutions.

And--*yawns* and new-- *falls to ground with a thud*

Musings-- This is Not a Post

whattheshittycrapisthisworldleadingto?

Oh gawd. so now we're reduced to a mere

puppetry of prejudice and porcelain masks.

how the heck does that work anyway. 

Upon a rotting string we hang our skinny, anorexic souls and moral values

for the world to feast their eyes on.

what the shit is this crap.

what the hell is happening to this world.

why are we even trying so hard to do such illogical, painful things to ourselves?

gawd, what crap is going on?

bullshit, I say.

nothing more than pure bullshit

I see that there's nothing more to expect of the world.


Since they're all looking for typical faces,


molded into a gallery of faceless members


Who pass by the realism of life only to realise


they've been such fools and idiots


at the merciless hands of the society.


You know what?

I kinda feel pity for the world.

This is the 115th post.

And I watched the trailer of "This is Not A Film".

Yes, you've heard it right.

This is not a film.

As such, this is Not a Post.

...
bwahahaha.

I will be writing a play on this.

Paper tigers, the lot of them. 

Moosic :D

Minor warning:

I am not a K-pop fan (well, I wouldn't really say that I'm a hater, because that's just unreasonable), hence please do not mind if I do not worship the ground that your idols step on. Admittedly, I do listen to K-pop sometimes--SeeU's I=Fantasy is rather... abstract, in my view.

If you do not agree with me, there's no need to get too... enraged because everybody has their own views on matters. :D Though I may be a zombie-marshmallow-banana-waffle-goldfish-giraffe-ninjapenguin thingy, I still has a brain of my own (Pretty contradictory, isn't it?)

If you are those people who... hate people who do not agree with you, please do not click for more pencil shavings!

Things are changing, rapidly.

Even as I wake up to every single moment, so monotonous, change is occuring. With breakneck speed it flies past, its talons clutching onto the cloak as it wraps the earth around. The fabric withers and dies, leaving the new cloak to take its place. It undergoes a long period of time, replacing the old fabric bit by bit.
There's nothing to stop it, nothing at all.

We drive past the winding road,

At that moment in the car, mom is speaking loudly. I stare out of the windows, unconsciously tugging onto my blue T-shirt, pulling it downwards. The sky looks quite bright today; unlike the days of gloom. Perhaps it might stay at this weather for the week. Who knows? Mom continues to chatter, speaking of things "that younger kids like you should not interfere with". Dad grunts a reply and then mom continues to talk. I look towards the windscreen of the car, my eyes picking out several detail. Quite insignificant, but still there. I listen harder, then press my cheek against the cool window.
"If the elders go and plead with the younger ones, will they refuse? No."
I listen on, bored, storing information for future uses, if needed. Along with me, in the back seat, my sister is facing the other window. I turn back to my window, still staring.

Still vaguely conscious, but not quite.

"Have you accepted the offer from Nanyang?"
"... not really." I look out of the window, knowing where this conversation is going to lead.
"Are you hesitating?"
"... I suppose... I only have to accept, right?"
"So are you thinking that that is your only choice or is that what your parents are thinking?"
"I suppose... It's my own thinking."
"Are you afraid you can't get into RGS?"
"... Yeah..."
"You're afraid for your PSLE score?"
"Urm... yeah."
"But I thought you've been improving for these few years?"
"Urm, not really. I dropped in Science."
"But this year's Science was quite difficult, right?"
"Yeah, only two pupils in our class got A-star."
"Then it's difficult, right?"
"Yeah, but... if they can get A-star, why can't I?"
"Don't worry, you've been doing well, going uphill, right?"
"But... there's gonna be a time I'll start going downhill, right?" A restless shifting in my seat.
" Why are you so pessimistic?"
"I'm not. I'm just being realistic." A shaky laugh.

In the sandbox, I refuse to step out onto the beach.

I'm really apprehensive. It's gonna be a new step out there, to venture further into another different environment. We're all going our seperate ways, told never to look back. Without any support, we're just left to grope about in darkness and find another supporting friend to lead us back. The first few days will be painful, feeling the stark, naked panic rising in your chest, as you walk through another unfamiliar tunnel with sharp twists and turns.
If I could, I wouldn't want to try out the new tunnel. But I am going to get pushed mercilessly into the strange, scary darkness. It engulfs me and I know there's no turning back. I have to stay strong, to not let the tears fall.
You wonder if they'll still remember you, but a little comforted by the fact that there's still Teacher's Day and regular meetings on the computer. But with time, that bond will eventually break. The very thought arouses fear, that eats into the very core of our hearts.
You don't want to leave.