what you have to know is that no, i didn't die, and yes - my computer broke down again. my hard drive is beyond revival, so the hewlett-packard engineers are coming on monday for a visit.
right now i have two poems to analyze and lengthy pages of algebra to do, so i'll just summarize what i would have written.
1. CAP reunion was perfect, apart from the fact shumin and tim didn't arrive, and that i had to leave early. am in post-CAP withdrawal again. i believe i cannot live without a reunion at least once a month. i insist on a CAP chalet at the end of the year, when the Abomination is over and i have (hopefully) entered bio-chem-full lit.

2. i thought a lot. isn't new, but there you go. realizations and stuff.

3. i got a spiffy haircut.

4. my birthday is in less than a week. i am the prodigal egoist.

5. i love herman hesse, demian and steppenwolf.

see you when we're all alive again. xo.

for the first time, colorgenics was vaguely inaccurate. yay.

the single significant incident of the day was when i hacked at my lino murderously and ruth aided me in carving away. then eunice arrived with her lino cutters. after that, sheryl (ong) did and i had practically a small crowd helping me along. thanks, girls - you da bomb.
i realise that i will never be short of friends. sure, i enjoy freaking them out, they probably think i'm weirdest of the weird, and we don't exactly have much in common. but they help. and care. i don't think i'll ever be completely without anyone. analyzing relationships never works, because i've tried; and i haven't seen anything good come out of it yet.
after receiving the CAP photos and showing them to everyone who's interested, i imagine i've spoken at least thirty sentences including the word CAP. i can't wait for the reunion on saturday, where i will probably run around like a rabid duck and hug everyone within my grasp. i was wondering why ms. tan agreed to let me and heather off guides at ten-thirty, considering guides usually ends by around twelve. i checked the board and heh, guides is supposed to end officially at ten-forty-five. but that's okay. we won't miss much, which is brilliant. being a guide changes a lot - i actually threw person x's very inconsiderate litter away, and i hardly gritted my teeth. i should remember to sign up for choir concert ushering/community service. and i owe x lots of money.

what's with natalie portman? she's beautiful, but i don't think we look alike. neither do i think my cheekbones are responsible. nor are half the guys in love with me.

i think june and july are officially singapore's mosquito seasons. they're having blood parties everywhere. i have been bitten at least thrice, in the space of two hours. ouch.

being rather nostalgic. i've been listening to billie holiday's the way you look tonight and bread's if. they are equally beautiful. i wish i could magic love into a song, but i work to pass my theory examination. i haven't tried writing for a long time. saving thoughts for weekends, i guess.

i deeply admire freud. he found reasons for lust. and nabokov made her/him beautiful.
the last time i recall being shamelessly in lust (even if for only a minute or two) was when trin languorously licked hot chocolate sauce off a fork. we were in a restaurant, and bad touch by bloodhound gang was playing softly.

life is good. today has been a weird day for many reasons. i received an engagement ring that actually was a green rubber band, but now i'm wearing it and grinning away. mrs neoh informed us, the CAP crowd, i mean - that we were now solely in charge of the scgs arty-farty Evening By The Pond (poetry readings, performances, the works). september, but i can't wait. sam is now my daughter, and she is in on the plan to blow up person x once and for all.
i also finally got to talk to her, and i teased her about the entire antonio-bassanio thing (you wouldn't mind if i sacrificed my body for you, would you?). she offered to kiss me goodbye, but there were too many people around.
just to remind myself, i need a haircut badly. i believe i'll get a warning tomorrow; a booking on friday. i'm tired of my current un-do, but am way too unadventurous to try something daring.

ewan mcgregor is too sexy it hurts. he and jonathan rhys-meyers both.

& there is no chance that you're reading this, since i've been hushhush about the address of my blog, but i am dead disappointed with you and your distinct lack of courage. though i'm not brave enough to tell you so, or save you, for that matter.

little boy blue (the life of dylan)

A vigilant moth advances from the cool lust,
kiwi fruit so sound of mind; not free to fantasize
with lightning strokes. the sex shot forward; briefly, briskly-

Piercing sounds wail, crying:”Shut up, you profane son!” though
Jupiter tiptoed in blood daintily, dandily.

A shoe horn or optimistic dragon is the key.
while the lust was away, the rampant cows did play. he
tossed and turned, dejected coat flapping uselessly.
An end is an end is an end, but this is simply the beginning.

written by this, though i made a few changes. and inspired to be generated by x.

i love travis' cover of baby one more time although it was a dreadful dreadful song when sung by ms. spears. fran healy sounds all soulful and sad though you can hear his voice shaking with laughter at some points. travis is currently one of my many obsessions.
thanks to brilliant timing, i was able to catch alternative nation last night. altnation is perfect for talent-spotting and critiques. strangely mtv can't discern between some types of music. the first song in line was sum41's what we're all about which is obviously punk rock, but i have no complaints. i love sum41 and the way none of them are frightening tattooed rockers. they're geeks. kind of like us.

she told me she didn't have any bad dreams the night before. maybe dreamcatchers really work, but i have reason to believe she has never had a bad dream.

i also have reason to believe i've turned into an optimist, which is good. i've been cheerful all day long, except i did get up suddenly during recess, taking someone with me. the easy explanation is that tolerant, mild, benign des was completely and utterly annoyed pissed off.
as for the short play below, i have gotten permission to use these personalities, except for that of person x who is a cockroach anyway so that doesn't matter.
_
Cast:
DES: a troubled teen.
CRYSTAL: her extremely practical friend.
person x: makes des feel like a char siew pao that's about to explode.

person x stands in the queue, talking and giggling and looking far too innocent.
DES reaches into pocket, draws out imaginary hand grenade, pulls out imaginary pin, flings it with all her might at person x, and whoops at imaginary explosion.

CRYSTAL: you must be very stressed.
_

there are two flies that buzz around i and ruth's heads and they have done that since the beginning of the year. ruth has killed five of them; i have killed two, yet every day those two flies are ressurected. we have killed them and disposed of the bodies. i have no clue as to why this happens.
my piano teacher who has been in ill health lately was admitted to hospital with a high fever. i hope nothing happens, because i like her, and needless to say she has been the best piano teacher i've ever had.

i tried my best to pay attention in class today although scribbling on my notebook and ignoring everything mr/ms x said seemed much more appealing, but i spent the past term doing that and there is a season (turn, turn, turn). so i did. and have a page full of math notes to show for. i don't drum my fingers on the table and pretend i'm playing the piano anymore, because time passes faster when i'm occupied.
yesterday i went on a book-buying frenzy. devoting your life to intellectual pursuits is actually very fun. i bought tons of my favourite Horrible History books which i wish could be our world history references and stuff on postmodernism; many, many psychology books. i like plunging myself into knowledge. it makes everything easier and distracts me from inane things like chronic emptiness. everyone also should read j.d. salinger's nine stories - they are much better than catcher in the rye, which i didn't exactly like. i haven't read my t.s. eliot yet but i'll give a report once i receive it.
i bought her a dreamcatcher and i hope she liked what she saw. the only spots on the horizon are the way i seem to be losing control and chinese homework after dinner.

random quote- mr barrichello, winner of last night's f1 race: "Brazil first, Germany second."

i hope coldplay's new album comes out before my birthday, since their music video's already seeking publicity on yahoo.

jai guru deva om. nothing's gonna change my world.

i'm looking forward to tomorrow's kinokuniya trip. books are the closest i can get to heaven, i think. i just figured out how to retrieve my digital camera pictures from the memory stick. i also took a passport photo, experimenting with an amused smile, but i simply looked deranged.
i am fortunate and yet i only discover this occasionally, like just now - when i was lying on my bed listening to the about a boy soundtrack (fully by badly drawn boy) and watching the sunset. i have a roof over my head, there are food and books ... and there are songs to be sung.
my desktop wallpaper is vincent van gogh's starry night over the rhone, which is startlingly different from the original starry night, in both tone and style, and i still have a playground love fixation.

my computer went bust, a few minutes ago. i lost my favourite mp3s and all my history/geography notes, including the rest of my hard drive, but that's about it. (i am trying to be optimistic.)
england lost; germany won. sods.

last night i had insomnia. so i lay under my sheets and thought for hours and hours. i like pressing my back against the wall when i sleep because i can pretend there's someone beside me.
i realise what i want most of all right now is to be loved. i want someone - just anyone - to love me and i'd love them back with everything i have (which isn't much) but don't you see, it's impossible, because relationships like that bring days of crouching in agony and feeling that way is no longer in my vocabulary. i just want love.

& i swore to myself last night that even if no one else was capable of it but me, i'd still believe in love.

should go and read some beau sia.

i like science, yes i do. silkstained and torrid.

one day i will scan in our pornographic stick figures and post them on my site. i'll watch the england/brazil match and tell you all about it, dear.
going to have fun(!) balancing equations after dinner.

I remember that time you told me, you said,
"Love is touching souls"
Surely you touched mine
'Cause part of you pours out of me
In these lines from time to time
Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter and so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you, darling
Still, I'd be on my feet
I would still be on my feet

Oh I am a lonely painter
I live in a box of paints
I'm frightened by the devil
And I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid
I remember that time you told me, you said,
"Love is touching souls"
Surely you touched mine
'Cause part of you pours out of me
In these lines from time to time
Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter and so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you, darling
Still, I'd be on my feet
I would still be on my feet

-a case of you


you being in love
will tell who softly asks in love,

am i separated from your body smile brain hands merely
to become the jumping puppets of a dream? oh i mean:
entirely having in my careful how
careful arms created this at length
inexcusable, this inexplicable pleasure--you go from several
persons: believe me that strangers arrive
when i have kissed you into a memory
slowly, oh seriously
--that since and if you disappear

solemnly
myselves
ask "life, the question how do i drink dream smile

and how do i prefer this face to another and
why do i weep eat sleep--what does the whole intend"
they wonder. oh and they cry "to be, being, that i am alive
this absurd fraction in its lowest terms
with everything cancelled
but shadows
--what does it all come down to? love? Love
if you like and i like,for the reason that i
hate people and lean out of this window is love,love
and the reason that i laugh and breathe is oh love and the reason
that i do not fall into this street is love."

-e. e. cummings

street spirit by radiohead has got a beautiful music video. monochrome ballet.

got the date wrong. rjc poetry is in july, on a saturday. that means i'll miss it.
but i will not think about this. last night i dreamt that we fought. and fought and fought in every way possible. and how you still trailed your hands over my neck. being used is an intriguing sensation. for a while you tend to feel...useful, that you're actually capable of being manipulated like a chainsaw. then the bewilderment kicks in.

talking with jasmine isn't like talking with anyone else. everything's easier, maybe because she's the only one aside from me who doesn't find html that annoying. she also has a lack of emotional-neediness, so we can get down to the facts. she also is fairly obliging. i could go on for ages, but if i had to live with someone for a long period of time i would choose her. i used to find her offensive for some odd reason but now i realize i get along better with her than i do with most people. she may be beautiful, aside from her snark. but then, don't all of us (rhetorical-philosophical-poop question).

fairy-tale personas are interesting. if i were in a fairy-tale i wouldn't be the princess or the sorceress (mwahaha!) or the prince or the intelligent court jester. no sir. i'd be the Uncle George who was beheaded in 1910. an alternative would be the librarian in fishnets who gets drunk.
RJC poetry tomorrow. bliss.

i feel somewhat unaccountable. infact i feel like pasteurized milk.
i love sweater-boy (he could quote tolstoy.), though he only exists in a poem. and he left me - just like the rest of them.

mathematics is incomprehensible. just now i enjoyed my 'find the value of x' problems. i am going to borrow books on additional math and economics, along with jung, hitler, and lenin.
why doth thy butt bleedeth so? i should tell her about this blog. preferably after korea wins.
korea won. i have nothing to give but a goofy smile. oh yeah, and CAP photos are up. bloody hell. i resemble a dumpling.

i promised myself banality would be banned here, but i think i do need to settle issues after all. i don't want to go back to school, you see. i don't want to be reduced to studying. i suppose all my perennial-angst has gone and done an ostrich but the instant i return lots of things will come back. like KitschBitches who aren't really KitschBitches when they're. apart. and the frustration of not being able to fix what i. can.
i would really like to be free. she is the no girl.

i wanted to be an escapee.

this is not the direction i wanted to take.

well, look here. i've gone and shattered my virgin with frantic emotional urges. all in the spirit of breaking-in change. there's something about the word darling because i always use it over her real name after we fall into each other. if i loved you i'd kiss you, hard. good night, and no more.

what makes love love? i wouldn't advise you to think about the number of obligations you have. nowadays nobody can quite tell what's real and what isn't. when the three-dimensional orange 'hit' my three-dimensional-viewer-visor i ducked in horror. me, i flounder around. sitting by the phone gets tearfully bland, at least at some point of time.

the only material thing on my mind now is the $30 bohemian shirt i saw. i get about three heartbreaks, five fiascos, two days of immense fear, and a week of depression every year. i will do all i can to prevent this cycle from repeating.
idealism always helps, actually. truth, beauty, freedom, love. in the corporate world the closest you'd get to these are a brilliant movie, and that's about it. the day i become a realist-nihilist is the day i top myself. go away, you half-assed dark demons.

i wonder how our band is coming along. i'm so glad i'm the main keyboardist.
i just wanted to be beautiful - that's all.

take me away and whirl me round. bring me back and shut me down.

i am somewhere between a bomb and a prayer.
in a way i think being a painter is easier than being a writer. for one thing, you don't have to imagine your colours, or have them grammatically correct.

i had an extremely harrowing experience just now. i nearly fell into the toilet bowl.
someday i will make dotdotdot pay for everything dotdotdot has done, although getting rid of dotdotdot permanently is completely beyond my abilities.

i want the spanish team to do the chicken dance in the middle of their next game. or the finals. whichever. i think this goes to show that i am an ireland fan. i shouldn't be in love with david connelly, but he's just too short and spiky-haired and blue-eyed and puppyish. heather made me cry along with her. funny, i never discussed football with anyone before. sex change operations and beetroot juice, but never football.

it is incredibly weird to look around rovingly for someone and then realize the person in front of you is someone who is just as familiar as that someone. confusing? i thought i was in a bloody time warp. worth the goldmine chocolate cheesecake with chocolate ice cream and hot chocolate sauce, though.