I wish I could pirouette

no, not really.

I don't actually feel that way.
I mean, I tried dance, when I was really, really young and cute at that time.

And I sprained my ankle, which was a one-way ticket out of dance and to calligraphy.
I did quit calligraphy later on, just so I could sleep.

Abacus was boring, so I quit, too.

And piano.
It was hell, for me.

WSC training yesterday, and my aunt brought us all to watch a movie, hence I got back home at 2 AM.
Didn't get any work done, except more debate practice and trying not to look like a fool while my teammates (expert debaters) prepped me on what to say.

We didn't get to go and debate, but I'm sure that if I did, I would have died.

Research is lacking, as in, I'm dying for everything right now I just how do people manage their time so well.
My class' OM teams are in great condition, even with their hectic schedules.
And here I am, flooping to my death because.

Anyway, debate.
So, I've got no experience in it whatsoever but I'm just kinda happy about it. I don't know.
We've just got to act our way through it~

It's kinda good we've got extra help from our mentors, because I would just crumble if we didn't.
I've been first speaker for the last few sessions, and I think it's quite okay-- second speaker is just rebuttals rebuttals points, points, yay. Third speaker is probably hardest because you have to think as they debated on and on and you have to conclude everything to leave a strong impression on the judges woah. Yeah, but you get to go first if you're first speaker and you can't mess things up.

Mehhhh.

I should do Japanese right now.
Oh what was I thinking, blogging when I've got work.

PROCRASTINATION HAHAHAAHAHA no.

okay.
bai peasants.
I love you all.

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=

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.

I'm a huge idiot.

I'm just grinning, still grinning. And it's really weird. :D

In my parent's room, where Dad is still snoring away and I has managed to complete the Japanese homework.

This is awesome. It's the truth--those words are still pounding in my head.

EILUN AND JERNANA ARE AWAKE.

AWAKE.

CRAZY PEOPLE.

LIKE ME.

CRAZY PEOPLE LIKE ME AWAKE.

This is bliss.

I don't know why, but I just feel so awesome. And so idiotic at the same time.
I miss all of you too :D

It's 2 in the morning, last day of hols. Sad, sad, sad. But there'll be school. And CCA.

CCA is my second family. Even school can't beat that. Even though I keep complaining about CCA, there's a part of me that'll forever think, "Hell yeah, we're awepic. We're unique, a crazy bunch of weirdos who fit together."

Even though sometimes CCA is tough and all that crap or bullshit, it's still so fun and happy. Despite all the people that make me go haywire inside and there's loads of chunks of wtf messages around my brain (we should research it one day), they make me feel complete, like I have the right to be crazy.

I'm listening to Onerepublic's "Come Home" and it makes me want to cry. Remembering all the times in P6, all those secret moments of fangirling and pretending to be someone else. I think I carried on the calm facade just because it was who I was in school.

So, come home, come home, come home.


I want to go home. I miss CCA. But I remind myself that I'm already home, in my heart.

I'm home.

NYES. I love you. :D

Clarissa
Eilun
Jerlyn
YanYan
Megan
Isabel
WuFan

Crazy ES batch of 2012. :D

I love you all so much. I really do.

Even I don't feel this much for my class (TRAITOR!!!!).

Maybe I'm just dreaming out loud.
Until then.
Come home.
Come home.
Come home.

LOVE LOVE LOVE

:D 

"I SAY THAT CHEESE BURGERS SHOULD COST MORE THAN GOLD!" -facepalm-

I was buying cheese burgers and was walking past a jewellery shop. Then I thought about someone robbing me of money (y'know, the standard "money or your life" gag) and I hugged the cheese burger tighter. Then it came to me...

Me: I think cheese burgers should cost more than gold. Why do people even want to buy gold anyway? It's useless. It just sits around there--not fluffy or cute--and sparkles. While the cheese burger can sustain life, the gold just sits there doing nothing. Why do people think that gold should cost a lot?

Sis: Well, people like gold. And besides, it's a rare metal that needs to be dug up from the ground.

Me: But it doesn't do anything! And it's pretty much useless. Why do people even bother digging them up? Shouldn't cheese burger be of a higher value? Why are they so cheap? I'm not complaining, of course, just... isn't it weird?

Sis: Well, if you put it that way, most humans are weird. Perhaps it's because it's very rare and pretty, can be used for decorative purposes? Besides, people have already set the standards. Gold is worth a lot of money, even if it just sits there and do nothing.

Me: ... Still, if we're actually talking about decorative art or something like that, a few twigs and leaves can do the trick, right? Why do they want something that... that...is completely useless? The cheese burger can sustain human lives!

Sis: Still, gold is bright coloured and it's prettier. Look at carvings on gold--don't they look exquisite and intricate? Whereas twigs are of a darker shade of brown, hence it's much more difficult to spot the patterns--if you ever did carve into them. That's why gold is much more favoured.

Me: ... But gold is useless. And it causes war and trouble. It causes greed. Whereas the cheese burger makes people happy!

Sis: But after you eat it, it's gone, isn't it? Look at a cheese burger and gold. The cheese burger will rot soon, while the gold can last a long time.

Me: Then, talking in rarity, the cheese burger wins!

Sis : ... -facepalm-

Aaaaand, the winner is...

CHEESE BURGER!

TEAM CHEESE BURGER, WHOO! :D

... we ate it anyway.

Mocha-filled waffle

WARNING: THIS POST IS FILLED WITH THE ESSENCE OF STUPIDITY. Snape forced it down my throat.

ahahahahahahahaha.

I drank a can of iced mocha just now, but it was not cold so I poured it into a cup and added ice. So maybe it's iced CUP mocha? T.T

ahahahahahahahaha...

You just got trolled.

ZOMB I LOVE MOCHA! 
AND IT MAKES ME GO CRAZYYYYY
LIKE A DRUNKARD >.> 

no, I'm not alcoholic.

Oh gawd, my head hurts now.

it feels like a hangover.


aww, crap. I FORGOT TAT I HAD THE FEAR WRITING CHALLENGE TO DO. I PROMISED MYSELF... AARGH. I AM SO FAIL!T>T 


But yes my head is hurting so I'll excuse myself from writing--

random voice: YOU CHEATER SCUM
...

I made an amazing discovery: When you highlight the post of a blog... it appears that there are lines for the post! It's like a notebook, except neater with customised fonts.

My head hurts. I should go ahead and type out the play.

but my head hurts.
Oh crap-- it's like some stupid little whirlpool swirling about in my head and crashing away--

I SHALL NEVER DRINK MOCHA AGAIN.

HEY, GUESS WHAT? THEY RAN OUT OF WOBBLING JELLIES. THIS IS SUCH A SAD AND TRAGIC TALE! TT^TT I WANT MY JELLY~
...

Where is the caffeine that's supposed to make me feel less guilty? I SLACKED. (productively, I hope.)

And Clarinet and I made a dance for the Tennis Ball parody song~ It was so funny. And fail.

And she couldn't believe that I was in gymnastics for a period of time.


TOMATOES GONNA TOMATE :D
yay.


... curse you, mocha.
I wonder who can find the secret messages in this blog post... <--CENSORED :D


And so the waffle lived unhappily ever after.
Mocha~


THIS POST IS SO ANGSTY. :O

Post-it ノート: imma very waffley waffle

bwahahaha...

i has a chinese blog now so whenever i feel like typing in chinese, i'll be able to organise my... stuff.

...

aargh.

i'm tired and just so sleepy. 

if someone who raps is called a 'rapper', then is someone who is strange called a 'stranger'? 

okay, so that was lame.

bwahahahahaha.

to all seniors (whether i know you or not), 

i secretly stalk you all the time. especially you, tennis ball and the jelly person.

...

if you believed that, it's the same as believing that i'm in gymnastics and is considering whether to take up a second cca (track and field).

and i'm not the one who stalks the tennis ball, angie. 

go marry a tennis ball! bwahahahahaha. 

-inserts whale laughter-

this post is neither productive nor serious. it's too friggin waffle-ish and stupid and crappy and very unproductive and meaningless. 

The Japanese Teacher said there was something wrong with me! :D

and it made me laugh for the rest of the Japanese lesson.

ZOMB. (Zombie's way of saying "zomg") Finally someone confirms my thoughts :D
Oh gawd. Homework. T ^ T ||| And yay, there's CCA tomorrow.

And I'll be getting new glasses soon! (because the current one's thingy broke off-- got it fixed, but the paint is peeling, peeling.....)


...
Phoebe called me earlier.
Oh gawd I miss you guys a lot. A LOT. A LOTTTTTT~
And then I saw the evil egg. I was trying to ask about FA. Not so sure now...

Ugh, now I need to do things.
Important things.

I swear, I hate this place. I absolutely despise it, loathe it.

Post-It ノート: oh why

That was so embarrassing.

And idiotic.

That I tried to commit suicide in that little emo corner.

TAT

Why do I squeak at inappropriate times. 

Argh.

I'm going to try to wash this off my head for now and keep my head up high.

Or at least try to.

Maintains view: scary people are scary.

...

Baka, baka, baka.

Oh bananas.

Dancers-- my submission for montage

Dancing on a hard, cement floor.

Twirling about at ill grace,

You seek our very core

of love, peace and trimmed lace.

Arching backs and curved figurines

are placed above the wooden fireplace.

One speaks to the other--where have you been,

fondly, lovingly-- he strokes her face.

Slender fingers trace the epitome of desire,

hesitant, pleasured with the silky taste of lust.

We drown ourselves in fire,

the scorching flames spit out fantasies, stardusts.

Ribbons bind our feet together,

Scarlet, elegant but tortuous,

The weight of the world appears as the weight of a feather

Upon our legs, yet our faces are joyous. 

Teetering on the edge,

Cracks powdered, scars faded.

We mumble the sacred pledge

of ugliness and beauty-- a weight [over our shoulders] cascaded

_______________________________________________________________________________

Oh crap.
Why did I just submit this for Montage.
...
...
...
argh.

I guess I'm desperate to this extent.
~o~

Musings-- WAFFLE THE WAY ALONG

Just read Tuesdays with Morrie.
Nice book, maybe.
Waffle, waffle, waffle.
Oh right, I have a bandage on my knee.
A white, evil bandage.
Ouch, it hurts.
Nao I can't lie on my stomach or it'll burn.
But on the other hand, my sis says it looks cool and hardcore and she feels like getting one too. That's how amazing I am~

Stupid bike, I should have never rode you. You of a sickening orange (and you just had to be my favourite colour!). Ouch, ouch, ouch.

And Tuesdays With Morrie says :

"The feel of those emotions, their texture, their moisture, the shiver down the back, the quick flash of heat that crosses your brain--then he was able to say, 'okay. This is fear. Step away from it. Step away.' "--Quoted, page 104-105

Oh, but seriously, when the pain comes on, it's too fast for you to be able to identify anything. The speed itself. *shudder* Ugh, my knee hurts, but I know it's just mentally. I'll still be able to jump, but it hurts. Sigh. painpainpain~ *whines on incessantly*
I mean, how can you accept Death so easily? It seems too much for me. To be able to think about it so clearly, vividly, that you feel at peace with Death?
Then again, I'm just like an empty container, not yet filled with experience.
I love the book.

The first page drew me in:

A lesson without grades, without books, taught from experience and not theory.
We're Tuesday people.

And they talk about more of life's lessons, how the rushing pace of people affects us and sub-cultures. How you shouldn't be pressured to conform because that's what the society wants you to believe: Women not skinny enough, men no rich enough, students with marks too low.
I wish I could believe and make my own sub-culture, but I'm stuck within the paradox of freewill and prejudice. The veil blinds me with letters, A, B, C, F. Different letters hold a certain impact, a shadow covering your character and personality, a cloak hiding your values.
Branded with the letters, some cower behind it, hoping not to meet discriminating stares while others hold theirs high enough, blocking what offensive remarks that may be made.
Every time I get an A, I don't feel happy. I feel relieved.

waffle waffle waffle.
the banana culture! :D

I read small bits of it along the way since primary school.
The first time, we did a comprehension on it, just a small extract. I read on and found it interesting, I thought it was a case study, a scientific study on illnesses.
I wanted to read more. But I didn't, because it became a dimmed light in my mind, faded to a cracking whisper.

The second time, I saw this quote "Don't let go too soon. But don't hang on too long" from Tuesdays with Morrie and I was enchanted. The book didn't seem like a scientific case study anymore. Perhaps a philosophical case study? But I didn't read it.

The third time, I was wandering about in a bookstore. My sister had vouchers :D so we were just looking around. We were deliberating over whether to buy The Hunger Games--trilogy but I spotted this small pocket book-- Tuesdays with Morrie. And I picked it up. I was going to read it, I was going to buy this intriguing little book. So we left the bookstore happily.

And you can tell what happened after this. I read it, and was surprised to find out that I liked it, although my dad found it too deep for people of my age. He expected me to buy something like The Hunger Games. And you know what? I'm glad I got this book, instead of missing out on it.

Not to say that it's necessarily better than The Hunger Games, but I like it. It's based on personal opinion, I suppose. I mean, the idea from the trilogy looks refreshing and interesting-- it somewhat attracted me. Ah :D

Don't miss it, peeps. It's really interesting :D And you'll never get sick of it :D

sifted through all of my blog posts and realised that most of the writings there are crapcrapcrap.
=3= bleh. i feel so ashamed. *hides in corner*

but hopefully, hopefully, i have made some progress from those fluffy fluffy fluffy crap :D

because... beauty is in the eye of the beholder. 

i'm wondering whether to upload the draft copy of 'iridescent' that i wrote for school =3=

Musings -- there are some kind people in the world, after all.

:)
Alerted them of a missing thumb drive and people from different levels replied.
It was just a small message from a junior, someone they didn't even know, yet they still replied.

Dear Ollie...

It was endearing and yet so cute.
To be serious, I didn't expect them to actually answer. :)

What the fish is Euler's number? I can't believe it actually exists.
Ha. :)
and i is an imaginary number.
1 is the first number for most sequences...
0 is the first non positive whole number.
Pi is an irrational number and people celebrate Pi day.
e... is an irrational periodic number.

I still don't get it... TT^TT

Is that really what you want?

Chinese New Year celebrations-- something I had been looking forward to, already filled up with sugar. It was boring with only us, released early. We were more open, this time, already seen all the teachers. Now you came and complicated everything. I squealed, hugging everyone I could, but you simply stared at my uniform in --somewhat of disgust-- so I laughed and shook it off.

Next came the cheer-off, more of you versus us. The line was drawn so clearly. I didn't want to battle, but I was compelled to. Your taunts, mocks and boasts. They will amplify more once I step out of the game. Sore-throat, I had. We were deciding on school cheers, as loud as you even though we were short of two members. Your scoffs, your smirks and snorts. It hurt me a lot, but it was a drug that drew me in, deeper. I clapped my hands, making as much noise as possible, making sure we could out do you. And came the embarrassing part; the many cheers that I already knew about, compelling me to join in, even though I was an 'enemy'. My sister, she is in your school, teaching me many cheers that I learnt eagerly. But now I've resigned to fate, instead laughing at how poor your coordination is.

I didn't ask for this. I wanted to go to your school. But no, now we are enemies. Now we are competing with each other, determined to soar further. But I didn't ask for this. I didn't want to become your enemy. Tears are about to flow, but I keep them in, sure that you will only mock at how weak I am. I am not. Just because of other peoples' comparing words, we have stood away from each other, boundaries keeping us in place.
Can we really coexist in peace, I ask myself again, demanding for an answer.

I don't know.

So as I laugh and shriek, joining in my own cheer, I purposely poked you, evoking a shove. I chuckle. Is it because I'm wearing white, so you have to do this to me? Is it because of my school name, so you hate me? If that is so;

I hate white.
And naturally, I hate you.
For being so stupid, so immature that you have to even be affected by others.

So I'll just smile and as much as I don't want to, I'll go back again for Teachers' Day. The addiction that pulls me deeper into the abyss, sprinkling onto my senses hot coal. It will hurt. And yet I'll still go for more.

Coward.

I didn't think that it would be so different. I imagined how simple it would be to walk up straight and smile, try to talk, end of story. Nothing is that simple. In fact, it just hurt that I didn't know what to do, being the coward I was. Surrounded by the bunch of people I never really talked to, I tried to stand up and dash over, smiling sheepishly. Hesitation. Fear. Reluctance.

I haven't talked to you in ages. Everythin seemed so easy, too easy, when we didn't speak face to face. I could laugh, be free. But I couldn't just walk over and grin, because I knew I would never fit in and rejection would hit me right in the face, forcing the air out of my lungs as I deflated. I was afraid of rejection. As I clutched the Hatsune Miku plushie (Phoebe gave it to me. How sweet~!) tighter, it became a talisman. I trotted over, poked you with it and beamed lightly.

It was a good reason, so I didn't press on, as I just nodded and ran out. Like the very coward I was. I should have stayed longer. But I knew I would practically suffocate from all those plastered smiles. At the beginning, I kept my face down, packing and unpacking all the food that I was (mysteriously) in charge of, categorising it (like the OCD person I am XD). I didn't dare to talk. Some kind souls had tried, but I just blocked them out, pressing the ear phones into my ear, digging deeper.

Perfect by P!nk came on, and I wandered out of the room, to the carpark as I waited, listening to the change of music. Sometimes I went inside and packed again, avoiding human interactions, sometimes I simply lazed at the deserted and dim place, afraid to turn in. Coward.

Finally one of the EPs came and told me to go in while she waited. I strolled there, unwillingly turning to the room. I note that groups had formed, and I wasn't in any one of them. She stood there by the table, alone. So I trotted away to her. We played the soccer-table game, occasionally laughing. Simply, even as we didn't really talk, it worked. Soon all of them came. I started chatting, feeling more at ease, wondering why I had tried so hard to build the barrier around myself.

Maybe it's because I'm going to a different school, so it doesn't matter if I'm salvaging those friendships that never lasted. I don't know.

"What's your greatest fear?"

"... Being alone even though you're in a big crowd."

Coward. I really am a coward.

cracked mirrors

Idiotic. I really am.

Even as I try hard to find another chance, a slim hope, something, just a glimmer of light. I dig in the bare soil, deeper, deeper, my heart still aching with the wish. It throbbed, continuously, and even though I had experienced that sour, bitter feeling for many times, it still bit into my heart mercilessly, soaking the palpitating red organ and leaving a scar etched so deeply. The acidic feeling was horribly painful, bringing tears to my eyes.

At last, I am forced to admit that the treasure I have been looking for was never there. The simple realisation left me slumped to the ground. My hands were sore with blisters, my fingernails cracked and bleeding. The physical pain was masked by emotional pain, as I forced myself to stop being weak.

I'm just so damn tired.
I'm an idiot, now that I think about it.