autumn is in the air, all right. try standing still on a busy pavement in orchard road, i am ringing your phone.

morning, and i can't wait to get out; though i'll be splashed by cars. i smell something funny, my hair's in a mess, and the weather's cold again.
it's been raining, but i'm happy. i like rain when it's gentle and covers everything, like natural perfume.

i may not be able to read poetry properly, but i don't fizzle.

a keen observation: people only start keeping blogs when they are in love with girls, boys, art, themselves. otherwise, they have nothing to blog about.

you break my heart, you really do. if anyone ever broke my heart it was you.

stopping here.

why does the girl character in movies always have to cry? very, very unfair.
(cues clapping of militant feminists)
books, books, books. i love books. i will blow all my money on books, in future. i find it dead funny i have shelves of books in my house and i haven't exactly read any of them. as i got back from school i heard a couple arguing vehemently and i sang imaginary love all the way home.

i am officially broke, as usual. my beautiful godsister lucy won the clean and clear competition. you can see her picture in LIME. i get a kick out of reading LIME.

i heart rufus wainwright's a bit of you to pieces.

(i didn't like it when you turned away, i didn't like it when you walked away, i didn't like it when nerissa&gratiano and bassanio&portia and lorenzo&jessica left antonio all alone; no i didn't like it at all.)

the good things about this week:

i have done amazingly well for the math test, literature test, and english test. go me.
evening by the pond was not a roaring success, but it ROCKED. yesss. yayness.
tomorrow's going to be cool, flea markets, busking and all that. also, looking forward to bugis junction (with ky).
even though the september holidays are meant solely for studying, they are still holidays.
it's september.
coldplay's new album is out.
i'm getting my september allowance. whoo.

the bad things about this week:

funny, i can't think of anything now. meant to be kept secret to myself, i guess.
oh yes, reading poetry to an audience is not what it's cracked up to be.

am watching tv.
am not sure whether i have completed science.
am trying to work out xylophone notes for bois de mervilles.
am alone.

am dying.

africa is the darndest place on earth. beautiful, strikingly beautiful, with people starving in its trails.

mental note to self:
never say everything's in its right place. never ever ever.

for the first time, i passed math. properly. 18 1/2 upon 20. unfortunately i've lost one of my science books. ack. will have to photocopy important pages tomorrow. it takes approximately 2 seconds for a smile to fade off someone's face (i've been trying to notice).

sometimes i have confused dreams which contain food and school and being held by you. but when that happens in real life i find nothing, just a curious pain, like i'm thawing.

correction: did not lose science book after all. it was in my cupboard, and very dusty. unfortunately i didn't discover it before i went about photocopying in a panic.

Red wine and sleeping pills
Help me get back to your arms
Cheap sex and sad films
Help me get where I belong

i am somewhat nauseous. there is something lodged at the back of my throat, and my head is tipping over. i should go to sleep.
i guess life has wings, and get shot down every now and then. if you ask me about where i am, i'm lodged somewhere at the bottom of a cliff. not bleeding; not yet. they'll grow again.

i really really miss swallow 2nd.

the song tomorrow from annie, the musical, is one of the truest in the world. yesterday was the shittiest day i ever had in a long time, but i live on.
watched alice in wonderland, by the prague-blacklight theatre. quite indescribable. basically, it's a little like a mime - without words - and everything's dark, with luminous objects and people. the objects bounce around magically, it seems, along with funky jazz music.

also, today was my first patrol outing as part of sparrow 2nd. i don't know how long it'll take for me to get used to not being in swallow 2nd. shoutouts to rosel, mingxing and sandra, for being loud, un-antisocial, and capable of victimizing me (sandra). i owe melissa quite a bit, for her patience, and thanks, kimberly; for the mean jokes. most of all, thank you, angeline. we'll still sit on the bus together. i miss swallow 2nd like hell, because these are people i've grown to be completely comfortable with. sparrow 2nd is cool, but i love you people the most.

i have learned how to bowl, though very badly.

turn me off! turn me off! my screen says, it is now safe to turn off your computer.

something to think about is the fact that people around the world who have the same names as you and your friends may actually know each other. odd. i was surfing through blog after blog when i discovered one by an american girl named cynthia who continuously mentioned someone named des.

i went swimming, for the first time in around three years. as i soaked myself i tried to pretend i was washing everything away and when i got up i'd be fresh and brand-new as a baby. it didn't work.during science i sketched a wolf, moonstruck and world-weary. "can you tell what this is?" i asked sheryl.

"dog," she said, without squinting. there you go.

i have been transferred out of swallow second, my initial guide patrol, and i now reside in the fabulously small family of sparrow second. i'm the only sec two student aside from glorijoy, who's patrol leader. i think i disappointed my ex-patrol members a great deal when they said, don't forget us and i shook my head and nodded and laughed and they looked sad while in fact i was trying not to cry. i believe i am completely incapable of true anger, excluding annoyance, of course. i can only resent. it's all so useless, isn't it.

my left hand is somewhat dead, although it can type. speak to me, hand!

i plan on sleeping early to dream a little. as heather said, somehow we can never remember to strip and run around laughing. for once, i want to dream about nicer things, like swimming in a pool of chocolate. but i figure the reason why i hardly have nice dreams is because i'd probably wake up miserable, knowing they aren't real.

so. evening by the pond is coming along just fine. if you're in scgs and reading this, GO. we have poetry about dead dogs and we plan to, of course, accidentally screw it up.
life is kind of cool. there are a few extremely gay things in my wardrobe. i try to wear them sparingly.

you're so cute, with ink on your lips.

i just howled at the moon. whoo. i believe the dogs downstairs thought i was real. we're having a competition now. sooner or later the deaf woman next door is going to bang on my wall.

listen to sh-boom by the crew cuts.

today i saw a lost family from the sixties. geography test was also a pain in the ass.

i want to be a traveller and remain permanently in transit, just to live alone - with passing dreams - and block away all else.

the nights in singapore are sweltering and so cold at the same time. when i lean out of the balcony in my pseudo-juliet pose, i have compelling urges to put on my favourite checked shirt and jump out of the window, as if i can fly. yet when i pull the corners up to my chin the warmth seeps up to my neck and i have to kick off the covers.

i tend to grade my days like they're assignments given to me to mark. yesterday was an entire a+ day - and today was an a+ day, until a certain point tonight. a+ days happen when i get good marks, when people are particularly loving, or when i discover new stuff. but the bad thing about a+ days are that i want to hold on to them forever, because i know sooner or later something's going to shatter the a+ and wind it backwards again. i wish life could only get better, instead of being a sort of endless rope. now when i get such special days as these i am throughly uncomfortable, waiting and waiting for the bad factors to shut in. i wish i were used to being happy.

(sometimes i want to hide away from everyone, everything, so i can hold on to an a+ day forever. now you know why i run from you.)

feeling good. ordered a grey t-shirt from the2ndrule. jasmine ordered two.

i wonder why bubbles are always round. don't ask me why.

there are certain singaporean poets who are just too damn cool, like him and him because they don't conform to the general local-poet image, advocate homosexuality (the former) and wear tropical shirts (the latter). a genius creation - the2ndrule.

when you get down to it all, singapore isn't capitalist to the point of being unsalvageable. you rock.

i've read through half of oscar wilde's the picture of dorian gray. highly disturbing. the sort of book which does something to you, quietens you. sedation, maybe.

why are MRTs called MRTs? the name stinks. i prefer the word 'subway' so much more, like there's an underground tunnel full of secrets and ghostly beings and it goes deep deep down. there are plenty of places in my head, which should exist somewhere for me to find them all. someday i will write them out, but for now i play them over and over again. a dark brick corner, graffiti, empty bins. leaning and playing guitar. i get the shivers.

candy: gilbert o'sullivan, all alone naturally.

why do some people know - so clearly - what they actually want?

today can't get any worse.

in the taxi back home i was caught, with a million thoughts in my head and all of them contradicting and repeating each other. i was bloody scared, because this sort of dilemma rarely happens to me. in the lift back home i threatened myself when i felt part of my brain itching for a cry. maybe i shouldn't be writing this. maybe i shouldn't even blog today, but i need someone. i need someone who won't take my silence for granted, someone who won't mock me or forget about me or throw me aside. i need someone who'll always listen and care about what i think and try to please me. i need someone to love me more than i love him/her and not be afraid to show it. that's all i want, and with that i won't need anything else in the world, so why can't i have it?
-
this all confuses me terribly. i shouldn't need anyone so desperately. maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

thanks to her i'm remembering the hill we owned for a few days in the NUS Centre For The Arts. poncy place, that; but the hill was almost vertical and we ran like mountain lions up and up and we shouted and our voices echoed for what seemed like miles.

people at the bottom gave us weird looks. we smirked.

am tired out by the constant dancing in school. we have the guides one - heather sabotaged me - and the charleston, which is actually kind of fun. am at a loss whether do opt for full literature or full history - i'm consistently getting B3s for literature, but straight As for history. i want very badly to go to a UK university in future - i spent half an hour flipping through student magazines with trin. hell, as if i really want to care. i'm outta here. < / the escapist> i try badly not to be bleak. my erudite, i want to kiss you, but i'd never dare to.

spooling dna is highly enjoyable. we did tomatoes. i was going to spool myself if the facilitators weren't looking and i could steal some of the chemicals. pity, that.

fairly interesting conversation between my maid and i -

maid: what are you doing now?
me: drinking coffee.
maid: no, i meant homework.
me: oh. chinese. god, i bloody well need this coffee.
maid: what are you going to do after that?
me: drink more coffee.

i wish i could be invisible for one day. or possess someone, like a demon. either way. i shine, i shine like i'm about to be extinguished, and we all know i'm lagging behind. there are so many colours i wish i were in a french noir film, like my graffiti.net email address.

the cranberries/no doubt concert rocked, although i was partially deafened and developed a queer ringing sound in my ears for around fifteen minutes after. watching a rowdy performance at the same place where guides have the thinking day ceremony is also odd. i and ky were the only students there - go figure. we thought it would last up to, say, ten; but by eleven no doubt was still going crazy on-stage. we had fairly lousy seats, so we sat at the edge of our balcony. i took off my shoes. the rate of decibels was an initial shock, but my brain got used to the vibrations and i let them flow through me like water. i started yelling for real when ex-girlfriend came on. the drummer guy from no doubt (the one who's always wearing only underwear) was present in a white dress.

i have reason to believe that music is an escape. i mean, they all dance like egyptian (the cranberries) and tropical (no doubt) chickens. i also have developed a sort-of-crush on dolores o'riordan, who has a beautiful beautiful voice plus a glam hairdo, and most of all gwen stefani.

otherwise, school is frankly a bore. am a little pissed off, but heather makes me really happy. good news and bad news come and go. i also think the word dulcet is a poem, by itself.

i hate ultimatums. i also hate being out of control.

sod off, math test.

saw some random graffiti on the bus today. something about a person named constance cheong. the name brings images of a willowy longhaired girl. heh, i'm just biased against model-names, actually. i wonder who constance cheong is and how she made herself get graffitized onto a bus, presumably by hormone-charged boys or people who hated her. she sounds slutty. but what the hell, she might be some bookworm they loved making fun of.
names always carry some sort of visage with them. i don't see anything in desiree lim, though. when i was younger i used to hate my name, and i'd pretend to be named something else. ironically cynthia was one of my favourite names. i was always calling my storybook girls cynthia. i always inserted myself into nonsensical fairytale vignettes only a quixotic seven-year-old could dream up.

also, i have retrieved (cues applause) the supposedly lost CAP toilet pictures! i'll post them if i have the time. now i am Omnipotent. random love to heather, jasmine because it's her birthday, and er, cynthia.

claire. claire. the moment i met you, i swear. claire. by gilbert o' sullivan. paedophilia, but so beautiful.

in a sudden fit of narcissism, i have to give this direction. i like this picture. we're complete in CAP shirts. i am the one leaning slightly, short hair, glasses. i also have my arm around heather. jasmine is smiling and sam looks phlegmatic. indulge, our background says.

when i got home i collapsed on my sofa and didn't get up till a long time later. toes are awfully funny. try looking at yours and you'll see what i mean. toes even have little facial expressions. also, if you wear glasses, place them on your thigh. give it a good long stare.

i still feel extremely drugged.

my long holiday's over, too quickly. i don't want to go to school tomorrow. i wish trin would stay longer.

i would love to pull apart human beings and observe everything within them, their mood swings, their eating patterns. when you get down to it all we're just some egoistical living things which operate due to dna programming.

i don't want that to happen.

happy birthday, singapore.

for the first time i actually got up when the sun was shining and i got to take a whiff of morning air. for the first time i woke up at eight-forty-five and stayed in bed till nine-thirty to read the bell jar.
tchaikovsky composed a neopolitan dance, just like ice-cream, and it makes me deliciously happy when my fingers dance a foreign dance. today's the beginning of the hungry ghost festival, and i can't decide whether to believe in ancient chinese folklore or not. i also am in need of money, though not urgently.

artist of the day: morcheeba. otherwise is a brilliant, brilliant song.

my mouse is screwing up again. i believe there are miniature, wrinkled dust bunnies living inside and starting new colonies. just like bacteria. micro-organisms. multiple-orgasms.

(cracks knuckles)

for my own twisted pleasure. not like i'd actually, hm, choose to MAINTAIN a website.

i greatly dislike country propaganda. on the other hand, i feel extremely defensive when i see how malaysia tries to push singapore around, be it water supplies or history testbooks. well then, i'll wish you a happy birthday tomorrow. i can't believe it's been a year since the first time i spent my entire day with trin. twelve months, all right. everything's blurry in my head. i vaguely remember the talented mr ripley soundtrack playing in circles and huddling in bed with her, like a scared puppy; and a storm outside. we lay in each other's arms for close to two hours. i remember thinking the bits of cotton fluff on her t-shirt sleeve were beautiful, and that i wanted to stay safe forever. i don't know where i'll be next year.

the night before last i had a strange strange dream. i was in a shopping centre made out of rooms. they sold shoes with built-in clocks. i was sitting on a couch with my mother and a weird man. i had a little carved box in my hand with a long skinny key hanging from it. my mother had to go out, i think; so i decided to do a bit of window shopping. i left the funny box on a table and told the weird man to tell my mother i was in the next room. then i got bored quickly, and went back. the man was about to snatch my box, with a skeleton hand, but he withdrew his arm the instant i came in. suddenly i realized i was in one of those rpg games - where you have to do stuff to make stuff happen. i knew this man was about to take the box, but i wasn't about to let him. i experimented a few times by going back and forth, and he came closer and closer to taking it. finally i decided to take the box and run. i was halfway out of the door when i saw his skeleton hand reaching for me. being the coward i am, i flung the box at him, but he knew i obviously had something to do with it and started chasing me. i ran through miles and miles of corridors where i couldn't even see my own feet.

i think i kind of like my guide uniform.

there is something which makes chinese lessons very unpleasant. it's not my teacher, she's highly parent-influenced and a bit of a nag but she's fine. i guess it's just the idea of spending two hours slaving over a language i don't even like, much. also, evening by the pond sounds harder and harder to organize successfully. i think i would definitely like to do a guitar duet (hopefully self-composed) with jasmine, although my guitar skills are highly restricted.

was suddenly inspired to write a story. i haven't done that in a long time. when it's done i'll post it here, like i do with everything which doesn't fit in.

there's a belle and sebastian song called get me away from here i'm dying. yes, i am, growing more and more decadent every night. get me out of here. please. i can't go on much longer. i feel so turgid. i apologize. i wish you'd love me, i could do with that. better than chocolate every day.

i love coldplay's in my place. when chris martin claimed coldplay was going to start playing harder rock i was disappointed. however, he must have changed his maind, because in my place has the same sad, wistful quality about it like shiver or even parachutes. i love the guitar riffs. how long must you wait for. one of the reasons why i like melancholic, misanthropic alternative much better than emo, metal, or punk although i can't tell the difference sometimes.

another observation: how do fish sleep suspended in mid-water? surely they sink, or maybe fish have natural buoyancy. but if they do, then why don't they rise to the top of the tank? odd, very odd. when they're asleep they seem to expand, their eyes bulge, and they look more gormless than usual.

something funny happened today. i stood at heather's and x's bus-stop to talk to them, until 156 came, trin turned up, and she walked me across the overhead bridge to my bus-stop. it was dead weird because i felt like i was taking her home. when i got to the bus-stop (now metallically furnished) there was only a sec one girl and two sji boys. trin had to go so i hugged her and then i leaned against a (metal) pillar. then the bus came and there were approximately four people on it. i got home and my apartment carpark was completely empty. i was beginning to think half of the world disappeared. i reached home and i rang the doorbell several times and nobody answered. thus i was certain half the world had disappeared. but it was opened, after a minute or two. pity.

when i took a bath soap got in my eyes and i wandered around blindly.

i want to be alone without mediums. you know too well i run away from any problems i can't solve, or any obligations i can't twist to my liking. and i hardly see her these days. i don't feel much anymore.

i've decided my brain works pretty much on its own.

CFCs are difficult to destroy. once they are released into the air, they rise up in the atmosphere and are carried unchanged to the stratosphere. here, under intense sunlight, the CFCs decompose and release chlorine atoms.

one of my regrets about being female is the fact i can never, ever have hot gay sex.
a bird whistled at me. tweet. from outside my window. my curtains were drawn, so i didn't know how it looked like. it could have been a very nice bird. i could have married it and run away to japan to have gang-bangs with japanese punks every day. that's what i thought about when i saw three cats having an orgy. unfortunately i had a math test. homework interferes too much, in my honest opinion.

hello, do you hear me? hello, are you real?
i can assure you i'm real. honestly. okay, i believe that. i don't want you to believe that, i want you to believe me . (trin)
hello, why do i bother to study? why do i write bad imaginary poetry and wear mellow clothes? hello, am i missing something here?
oh, and i watched a play on vincent van gogh. if he'd known me he would have tried to love me, and i would have.

i just re-read lolita by vladimir nabokov for, oh, about the fifth time and finally it seems to drill into me. everyone should read lolita. it's chock-full of madness and terrible love and beauty. i can see why it used to be banned. i would type out the last few chapters if i weren't doing geography revision.

i was forced to make a new layout, because i unintentionally screwed up my original template. was miserable at first, but i quite like this one. yay.
i borrowed the velvet goldmine soundtrack off trin and live in terror of scratching its cover. i used the plastic bag for my music-lesson plate and cutlery - yes, plate and cutlery - to shield it. whew. the inside is truly droolworthy. jonathan rhys-meyers lies on his front nude and you see lots of pictures of curt wild and brian slade together. watch me advocate my motto 'Gender Doesn't Matter' again.

i feel extremely fishy and suspicious and more like myself. i wonder if painkillers soothe heartbreaks - because pain is just an illusion created by the brain. see, if you have a wound in your leg, your leg doesn't hurt. your brain simply sends alarm signals. painkillers depress that part of your brain. observe a pain near your chest area when you're hurt. that's your brain acting up again. thus painkillers should kill it, too. also, happiness is only a state of mind.

i think i've stopped being interesting.

piano lessons rock.

no, cancel the bugger chinese. i like being chinese. you get to be all short and cool, although nobody beats the japs. i even like my chinese name. ironically it means full moon. so much for being a remus lupin.
bugger chinese homework.

for the first time, there are no tests. i am officially Test-Free. i want to dance, but my feet get tangled. just like during the charleston. the music was beautiful - they played nature boy (which is infinitely one of my favourite songs) for warm-ups, depressing as watching yourself in a p.e. uniform is.
i received this email from someone named amy. it goes vaguely like: hi, i am a very passionate woman who is stuck in an unhappy marriage, blah blah blah, i think you're the kind of guy i want, blah blah blah, so why don't we meet up someday, waiting for you, blah blah blah. i honestly don't know where she got my email from. and my gender is obvious, although i've never given a damn about it. hm. icq also greets with porn. and they accuse me of being cynical.

bugger chinese. and i l love badly drawn boy's epitaph. it makes me want to be a little girl again.