snowflake

I ran exceptionally fast today. This is not called self appraisal. But I really did run fast. Because I was angry. With you. And with the rest of them, who came into my life, together, and departed, together. Why did you have to do that? Talking would have been fine with me. Talking is always fine with me. But apparently, nowadays, people have lost their ability to speak their thoughts, to communicate, to say hello. I know I did that once, and maybe this is my punishment. Maybe I deserve it, you know? So everytime I walk past your house, or walk down the street, I push you out of my mind. I push and I push and I push. And I run and I run and I run. Because I tend to run away from people who have a place in my heart, remember? I get nowhere. That's not what Im afraid of. Im afraid of getting the things I want, instead of getting the things I truly need.

When I need it most.

I am trying so hard to feel the warmth that my comforter is supposed to provide me with.

I can continue waiting, but at the end of the day, no one is going to turn up at my doorstep.

I fold my arms around my waist and long for a hug.

I think about the father who is embarrassed to hug his own daughter.

I wonder why people wait till its one's birthday in order to make them feel special/important.

I conclude despondently.

And so, I finally sleep. Without the slightest hint of irony. I'll go.

OKAY SO, i know i haven't really been blogging for a while(who gives a shit right) but i couldn't put up new posts cause the blogger thing was screwed up for a while. so yeahhhh.

but anyway, I want to thank everyone for celebrating my birthday with me, making me cards, making photo montages, baking me a cake, getting a bra and a g-string, getting the talking bear, awesome palm reading kit, -divya can beat me up for an entire day without me having to hit her back- coupon, all the wonderful birthday wishes, the minute-long hugs that i truly needed, yada yada yada. I really really really appreciate it all. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I love you all xoxo :D

Happy birthday Hannah! and,

Happy belated birthday syahida!

man, I love birthdays. It should be our birthday every single day. All of us. Celebrating together. Hugging each other. Bringing happiness. And all that jazz.

I managed to complete my list of things to do before I turned 16- except for number 2(learn how to use the damn washing machine) and number 4(walk up 10 storeys instead of taking the damn lift). I have a new list now- "LIST OF THINGS I MUST DO BEFORE I TURN 17"

here's the first:

1) Learn how to cook scrambled eggs( like how those really cool chefs do it in those really cool hotels )

I used to own a pack of m&m s

When I was young, I used to believe that there was a reason for my existence. It is rather pathetic how, as time passes, you fail to trust yourself anymore. When I was 8, I possessed much more sense. 8 years on, and I am no longer as sensible as I was before. Now, I am nothing but a nut. I am an angry nut- for you have infected me with resentment. I blame you. I blame you for making me think about my young self- when I was happy. Happy - what does that even mean? I have this tendency to run away from people who have a place in my heart. So forgive me if I have been selfish or cold in any way. Forgive me of my foolish actions. I have been selfish. But im making sure that things change. Im no Obama, but I still have a little bit of hope left. I wish for it to linger in my heart no longer, but it fights the system, just like I, and continues to linger. It is tiresome, trying to explain things that are somewhat unexplainable.

"happy birthday munchkin!"

- xoxo

THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH OMG THANK YOU FOR THE CAKE, FOR THE FLOWERS, FOR SMASHING CAKE INTO MY FACE(FUDGE FACIAL YUM), FOR POURING SOAP WITH WATER ALL OVER ME, FOR GETTING MY BRA WET, FOR GETTING MY GRANNIES PANNIES WET, FOR THE CARD, FOR THE EXTRA HUGE COOKIE AND FOR ALLOWING ME TO HUG YOU GUYS TIGHT EVEN THOUGH I WAS STILL SORT OF DRENCHED:D I APPRECIATE WHAT YOU GUYS DID AND I HAD A BLAST. I LOVE YOU!

CHRISTINE LEE JEONG WEON: YOU WEREN'T THERE): BUT ITS OKAY! WE WILL GO OUT SOON AGAIN SOMEDAY(: i love you pig!

Selfish

- divya

Dear Lemur with pig trotters,

You do not understand yourself. Behind every big beady brown eye, lies a story you do not narrate. God has given you what you wanted. They must have fallen from the sky, but not like snow- not like marshmallows, not like flocks of doves and not like balloons. They were like bombs, like something you despised most. So they turn out like skunks, when you thought that they clearly resembled swans. A type of swan you might have married someday. You and him? You and him are different because no two animals can ever possess the same brain capacity. You are always wrong in his eyes. But that's okay. Someday, you'll be right in somebody else's eyes. Maybe today had been a bad day. Maybe in the morning, your mother stuffed thorns in your mouth and made you choke on them. Maybe while you were in the car, you turned to adjust your seat belt and without any signal, a piercing dart landed itself right smack in the middle of your fragile little heart. Maybe when you reached school, your lack of competence led you to feel so... out of place, so... out of touch, so... wrong. It is in our nature, to be in the best of moods one day, and to feel as if our ship was sinking, the very next day. Sinking very fast. And once this gentleman had come along, you felt this sudden surge of happiness. But like all the other dart piercing, thorn choking, moments in your life, happiness lasted for only a minute. For you are nothing but a robot. You do not feel. You do not feel anything. Apparently. But if you did not possess the ability to feel, your eyes would not have glistened after he stuffed thorns into your mouth, and pierced darts into your heart. Thorns that made you shut up, and darts that murdered you. The man does not care if you are alright or not. He does not care. Maybe. Games, games. You hate games. You despise games. He jumps to conclusions and decides that maybe, you're not even worth it. Worth. You do not possess worth. So the only question that ponders in your head all day long is not something to do with, "how the hell did my mother stuff thorns into my mouth without me being able to fend her off?" or, "what the hell is this dart doing, sticking out of my chest like that?". But rather, " What is a friend, who readily walks out on you without possibly having any qualms about it, shattering you, and leaving you feeling oh so angry, till you feel like running away from the only best friend you've got?"

Yours truly,
.

Really good hunk cake.

HAPPY 30TH BIRTHDAY MR GLENN TAN!

WE REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOYED YOURSELF TODAY.

TO THE MOST AWESOME TEACHER EVER,

YOU'LL ALWAYS BE IN OUR HEARTS!

Sing, please?

When you let me know, what kind of life you have lived, I weep silently. For we are the reason why you were sent to the dumps. You do not have to pay income tax. You waste eight hours a day pondering over what could have been. Your love for teaching has not withered. But your faith has. You are not old, but you are not young either. You can't escape from this well. "I'll watch a movie with you", I say. And elation overwhelms you. But a month later, you lose hope, buy a ticket to a show, buy a small box of popcorn, buy a bottle of mineral water, and sit in the theatre while trying to enjoy your movie - alone. I have always kept my promise. But bitterness has led you to feel more impatient, more foolish, more hurt. You do not have many friends. You wish you had. We are the only friends you've got- do you not see that? But sadly, you do not see anything. You do not demolish your rights as an authority figure. You hold my hand and say, "education is most important". You do not have to tell me things I do not already know. What I want, is for you to hold my hand, like the rest, and say, " I am here for you, my dear. Whatever it is, I will try to understand- because you are my friend." You cannot bare the fact that we are drifting. Yet, you still add salt to my wounds. All this hypocrisy, I believe, would not have come about, if you had found a place where you could truly belong. You see, we are very much alike. But you no longer possess the ability to reach out. You try. I have noticed. You back down within two seconds. I will follow you, always. You will follow me, always. So when I blow you an imaginary kiss everynight, I'll whisper, "I am sorry". And when I kneel at my bedside everynight, to pray, I'll hope. I'll hope that you'll understand how much I love you.
No matter what, mom. No matter what.