tomorrow will be a better day. tomorrow will be a better day.

my glasses have a new coating of superglue. i wish i did. sam died. now they won't have the chance to impregnate each other. i write really shitty things. life basically stinks.

tomorrow will be a better day.

Ten Reasons To Continue Living:

1. i want to listen to the next radiohead cd.
2. i want to catch the next harry potter book and movie.
3. there are too many books i haven't read.
4. there are too many movies i haven't watched.
5. i haven't spent my allowance.
6. i haven't become a professor.
7. i haven't advocated anything publicly.
8. i haven't had sex.
9. i haven't travelled around the world.
10. i haven't played live.

should be enough for now. thirteen days is some sort of secret manta.

i now have two new fish. their species is pearl something-or-other but look like your basic longkang fish. i rescued them from a plastic bag for $2.
they are called frodo and sam. incredibly hard to resist.

i am dying. i have been studying all day. my life is wasted. online bitchery makes me laugh. i need a cigar so i can be hook-nosed and bitter.

i am beginning to flare up very easily. yelled and swore countless times; blew up several. my hair is falling out, gradually. now you know what exams do to the average person.

what is it in those antiseptic things that sting so much? biology never really teaches you anything important. i don't think i'm ever going to have to explain the process of the digestive system, amylase, amino acids. even the sex part of it is horrible. there's no mention of pleasure - just fallopian tubes and glands. gag me.

honestly, it takes only a keyboard and a blank screen to amuse me. pass the coffee. bugger school and everything else which gets in the way of my exalted state of mind.

two words: brian molko. grar.

today was cold and grey, so i pretended i was in london. played air guitar a whole lot in school; took bus back and get drenched from head to toe. the only time i actually look good is when i've been rained on.
then i noticed smoke diffusing out of a small car, dirt on the sidewalk, and red trucks. bloody depressing.

i know i should not have thrown away the methadone. i need change. and bad. bad, i tell you. i should fall into a tunnel.

may i, in true feminist style, bitch about the bra i'm wearing? i'm certainly not used to having a visible chest. no, i don't want to burn it, but i don't enjoy being voluptuous.

was self-indulgent today; took a taxi back home with spare cash. as the taxi drove towards home a supernatural light was following the taxi, so i did the most logical thing - basked in it like a cat. once my parents nearly bought a house with an attic with a clear ceiling. i fancied looking at the stars, but there aren't that many here, and besides i realized what would happen, with the birdshit and all. one day i shall hitchhike.

resolutions: i shall value my best friend more; i will never, ever make anyone my fucktoy. i was almost snarling at the stranger.

haze is back again. i'm not talking about dolores. the sky is a burnt sort of charcoal, like a smudged sketch.

9:50; start panicking, babe.
no, make that 10:00.

i concur that singapore's overrated NEWater tastes strange, sour at the back of my tongue, and yet saccharine sweet. rotten ambrosia, i say. which isn't half bad, considering it comes from, um, SEWage.
why are people spraying me with odd comments? i.e. madeline's 'i only saw your jacket, but i knew it was you, because you don't walk like other people,' and trin's 'you're cute in an ewan mcgregor-ish sort of way.' maybe i'm paranoid, but.

that reminds me. happy birthday, trin. i gave her a letter from remus lupin to sirius black. i can finally believe the year is almost over. i want to drive!, with the windows wide open and blasting obnoxious music. maybe even dye my hair a twisted sort of green. for the record, i have not read madame bovary and instead have spent a good two hours bumming around. pshaw. i foresee this continuing along with more suspicious disgusted noises.

too beautiful for words.

naked people look very funny indeed. quote of the day:
I AM SUFFUSED WITH INHERENT ANGER!!!!!!1

hahahahhh.

"hello, my name is des and i am a wolf. like most wolves i have a lot of hair and i stiffen when particularly unpleasant things come very near me. also, i am fiercely protective of those who make me feel like a puppy and being a wolf it is quite hard for me not to want badly to inflict grievous bodily harm on enemies with bad intentions. i only differ because i do not hunt but get along very well with small birds and rodentile animals. lastly, i am very grouchy like most wolves but i am not zeroing in for the kill - i am tired."

again, i must learn to eat mints properly.

american psycho is a very amusing book. it's actually v. matter-of-fact, not violent for the sake of violence as many people believe. although i can't bring myself to visualise stuff without going 'ow. that must hurt.' why does he have to slash eyeballs? i'm particularly squeamish about eyeballs. x had better not read it or she'll start getting ideas. i have also read wilde, the screenplay. i think i'm in love with robert ross. bosie is beautiful, i mean, he's jude law, but his personality seems too resplendent of what i try to avoid.
have not started on madame bovary. faugh.

tea and food and chocolate. melts in my mouth, i tell you. i love eating. i cannot understand why the weather is unbearably hot. it's september, dammit. i wish singapore would move in line and get a little snow. sometimes i want to crawl into my freezer wearing a tank top, maybe do a rain dance of sorts.

not a very eventful day. i stumbled out of bed and fell over a chair first thing in the morning. sometimes i trip over myself, too.

velvet goldmine, summed up in three words: provocative, flamboyant, and beautiful. same applies to trin.

i'll list the cons first, for the heck of being objective. stuff gets confusing, and the the plot isn't all that meaty or consistent. lots of back-and-forthing, scenes which seem to fit in nowhere, but those shine in their own right. it's a hybrid of glam-ness and sadness, both equally loud. the entire film is basically on drugs. random words: eyeshadow, leather pants. the entire movie is an adrenaline rush. and the surreality of it all never fades off. never. brilliant background music, too. i definitely have a thing for curt wild.

personal favourite scenes:
-when arthur stuart walks down the street in his new shirt looking very pleased,
-the scene played out by brian slade and curt wild dolls, and brian can't finish the statement "i love...(you.)"
-the famous kiss between brian and curt, "the world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. the curves of your lips rewrite history."
-when curt is performing and brian is on his knees giving curt's guitar a blowjob.
-the part where brian is talking to his manager and looking very sad while curt is in the background smashing things.

must. watch. again. no time to muse about depressing crap.

junkie #1: it doesn't matter, because you're just a little girl.
junkie #2: when do i stop being a little girl?
junkie #1: when you become a little boy.

completed my sewing and finally bought placebo, without you i'm nothing. it is currently providing funky background music for the typing of my history notes.

note to self: m loncar is a brilliant poet. i enjoy not knowing what he is writing about.

i like boats. i like how salty-sweet they smell and dizzy-happy they make me. i remember attempting to steer a ferry to batam. it gave a lurch, and i bet ten people ran to the deck to puke their guts out. maybe i should be a traveller after all, you know, i can be bohemian as long as i have those funny bands to press on my Nei-Kuan points. er. am soaring off to london in june next year - and to trin's place tomorrow, for the (finally!) watching of velvet goldmine. i can't wait, dear.

a tired and lonely des is not a happy des. but des is speaking in the third person because she knows she is a rather fictional person. who else howls at full moons?

18.5/20 for english oral examination. pleased.

am v. amused by a newspaper cutting i saw on a school notice board. "hooked on bookers," it reads. how about "booked on hookers?" prefects should like that. i have also found another ewan mcgregor fan in michelle, this girl in my class. although i don't see how she can go all multi-orgasmic about the picture of him with a bad haircut.

the weather here is compressing me. my lungs are squashing and my shoulders seem to be too far apart. why do i feel like i'm just like the leaf i saw in the pond last year? my computer and i share the same plight - our speakers aren't working.

what an insipid place.

what an insipid post.

what an insipid life.

chinese test and science test were easy. this means i can safely slack an hour in peace.

things in my home are going missing. my father's handkerchiefs, my books, even a large packet of toilet roll. one day i expect someone to go missing, too. that would be refreshing. i doubt we have a thief - everyone here is christian or a parent or both. except for me, that is. but i'm presently musing to myself, so i can't be the culprit. on the other hand, i could be writing this to convince you, and you'd never know.

then again, i want a shirt which reads fundamentally neurotic.

me and the dragon can chase all the pain away.

i will suffer happily work my way into biochemistry/full literature, the rjc arts faculty, and finally a top UK university. yes. ich will. that was to get my ass moving.

no, i'm studying, not having gay sex.

edit: i have understood earth wires! bliss.

topped english. i would love to believe there's nothing i can't achieve.

there is something tingling at the base on my wrist, like i've been stung. and i can pretend the poison is coursing through my body and crawling its way to my heart. it's a red stream of wild wolves. it makes you shudder in contempt of yourself, and it finds its way out of you and into the air, and wherever you go it'll pirouette around you and make the ozone layer so very unpleasant. sounds like a radiohead song i can't remember.

this is a dark day; i rest my eyes and my opinions. tomorrow, tomorrow, i love ya tomorrow, you're only a day away.

my sweet prince, placebo, is Song Of The Day. i love randy rock & roll.

top marks for history and full marks for math. enough to make a student happy for several, if not some, hours.

i have been reading petals in the wind which is a somewhat weak and warped continuation of flowers in the attic. there's incest and dolls and darkness, but it manages to sound absolutely trashy. nothing happens except for more people dying and everyone lusting after catherine who is actually v. bitchy, as well as impossible plots like catherine falling in love with julian whom she claims to detest. hell, he breaks her toes. can't seem to tear myself away from it, though. i want to start on madame bovary by tomorrow.

i also have been wondering about heroism. i believe myself to be a fairly brave person, but i don't know what i'd do if a shitload of soldiers started firing at me. what would you do? i say i'd protect those around me, but i know i'd probably make a getaway. if i'm an escapist when it comes to everyday things, what more war? and fear, for that matter. heroin, on the other hand, is not a very interesting topic. i just know you make me high again.

math test was easy, in my humble opinion. if i hit full marks my math mark will be on the up, finally, after months of fifties. yay.
the sun is getting hot again. i can hardly see properly - my eyes keep clouding, and i have to close them. like i'm living in a sandstorm. (though arabia would be interesting, camels, belly dancers, sexy music; the works.)

i have decided i am essentially a terribly lucky person, though i had to skip recess to figure out rotation. random love to heather, trin, madeline, and cynthia. oh, and i have a full list of books to read, dusty from my mum's cupboard.

my hair is weirding out again. i just finished a helluva chinese homework. chinese has an odour about it, kind of meaty, loquacious; smoky. like barbequed rotting pork.
about a boy was truly brilliant. i admit the brit comedies are the best. i understand will: i do feel like him sometimes, because i actually live a completely hedonistic lifestyle. i'm almost a trust-fund kid. i buy myself stuff to keep me happy, but when i'm lying alone at night i wonder if i'm really an empty ming vase.

i like pretending i can live by myself, in a little attic, but something tells me i can't.

i have decided to migrate to the arctic, temporarily. whatever's profoundly warm will thus diffuse away. god how i hate the wretched weather.

albums to sample: placebo (without you i'm nothing), blur (13), and the verve (?).

excess is all wrong, isn't it? i don't like the way why i and heather philosophize like decimals, but we never ever make it to the actual zero; we just proceed from 0.0001 to 0.00000001.
(and i hope you're thinking of me/as you lay down on your side/now the drugs don't work/they just make you worse/but i know i'll see your face again)

aaaaaaaah! slash me, baby!

i cut my hair, so i look like a cross-dresser again, mwahaha. english oral was cool, too. today must be Nice Teacher Day where all teachers suddenly ooze genuine nice-ness.
there's a show about the japanese occupation on channel five now. i kinda like their uniforms, although the german ones are sexier. you must be wondering about how superficial i can get. chawanmushi is lovely when its hot and melting on your tongue. eggs melt, yes. mike shinoda looks rather malay.

(am i missing something here?)

i am truly a lousy loser writer. i might make a better reader, though i have a short attention span. i understand why heather's darling leans on the pillar adjacent to the dance studio - it's pleasant. i finished approximately thirty pages of steppenwolf. i believe i will continue reading that book forever.

tell me if the chocolate repulses you.

coldplay are excellent live performers.

i ran down the steps as fast as i could and i ran and ran and ran like the hunters were behind me with a gun. and the staircase twisted twisted twisted and i was very sure i would end up landing in a heap at the tap-dancing feet of several primary school girls.

i think that everyone average in the world will someday come across a person whom they'd do anything for. i am cutting short the merchant of venice references. these people are usually never your best friends or lovers. they're just there. and i like lending her money i know she will never return, and i'm really happy when she calls me. i don't want to be mutually in love with her or have a sexual relationship with her, i just like being close to her. you see - this is non-attachment at its best.

i find the phrase 'gay fag' ridiculous. it can be taken as superfluous, aka extraded, just like saying 'the small town was not big'. otherwise, it is a double negative.

late at night i hear the dogs crying and i feel the urge to run downstairs in my tatty t-shirt and howl with them.

got back geography test; did pretty well. out of all the tests i've had since term three, i've been getting along excellently, apart from the stupid math test i flunked. i'm not the straight-a kind because i am most certainly not hardworking nor exceptionally intelligent, but i got nearly full marks for the one after that, so ahhaha. i have discovered the joys of eating dropped food. i bought a brilliant brownie from cute little sec ones and it fell off the plate, so in front of twenty (little!) eyes i picked it up and ate it on the spot. maybe the air inside gets compressed, but it tastes good anyway.
what would it feel like to be forgiven? there's a techno song by this group called 'sylver' playing on mtv now. quoting blur, marry me and we can start all over again.

heather - since i am a suckee, in the grammatical case of 'employer' and 'employee', you are obviously a sucker.

now you know why i boast a fear of intimacy. it's a weird, weird world; and there are some weird, weird little girls.

plans for the future, which are apt to change any moment:

1) a job as a research psychologist in a british university. i don't mind lecturing.
2) enough degrees to grant me that position.
3) to be part of a rock band. i still want to be a rock star, although i can be painfully shy. nonetheless, i want to sing lead sometimes and be in charge of keyboards/guitar.
4) to join heather on her greenpeace missions, though i don't believe i can do that full-time.

i really have no plans for marriage or anything of that sort. on a hindsight, i am unable to fall in love ever again because of a certain someone. i blame the certain someone. no, i'm kidding. i just want to continue being arbitrary and have lots of one-night stands. you can take that literally or figuratively. i don't plan to settle in the bowels of a corporate profession and do administrative work. i can't.
i proclaim blur's coffee and tv Lyric of the Day.

helping friends find ways to talk to their 'darling' is one of the most enjoyable activities in the world. i crapped the history test, in a good way, of course. i am a genius. i want to brush up on my guitar skills and learn to oil-paint.

why do i think insecticide should be eradicated? for one, it clouds up my glasses. september is truly autumnal, you know. nobody should be allowed to pollute september, not when the air's cool and sad. i want to wear a black velvet beret and a world-weary expression. and i listen to the old brag of my heart, i am, i am, i am. i think that was sylvia plath. ah, whatever.

HM.

funny, tomorrow's september eleventh. there wasn't a proper war, after all. as i said in a post an ironically long time ago, years whizz past. i offer my condolences to everybody whose heart perished in the explosions. may you non-exist in peace, and may you ressurect yourself, those who can. also, i offer my condolences to refugees who were victims of circumstances, like my literature essay. you were innocent - you should have lived in green meadows. lastly, i offer my condolences to those who capitalize(d) out of this disaster. the shame.

i like peppermints, but i can't seem to eat them properly. i try to savour them, but eventually end up chewing them to powder and ingesting them without a thought. maybe i was a junkie in a past life.

i need a subway underground to dream in. i could continue attempting to eat mints and wear my khaki shirt. hooverphonic has a nice new song, ya know, but i can't remember the title.

edit: it's called the world is mine. and they have a new album out on september 30th. yay.

a tribute in return:

its so fun being friends with a suckee like des.
yes heather, you are a sweet potato.

i also hope trin is okay tomorrow because well, i really really love her.

i think war is incredibly dumb. it wastes bombs and releases carbon dioxide. we already destroy enough with our styrofoam and air-conditioning. i mean, the metal used for the bomb could be used to plate watches or something. to remind us our time's running out.

people keep asking me about the henna tattoo on my arm, and whether i got booked by fantasies in boleros. damn straight i did not. i believe it'll stay with me for the next one year.
history revision in five minutes. goodbye freedom, hello merger. yay me, i need camomile tea.

i am shamelessly infatuated with rivers cuomo of weezer. he is my geek god of love. i definitely have a thing going for short (or short-looking) boys in glasses. wooo. and i haven't even gotten over my gwen stefani crush-phase yet.

good news: the exams will be over in about a month's time.
bad news: the exams are starting in about a month's time.

sometimes talking to people is as easy as typing to yourself, but when typing to yourself starts to consist of "u bitch i hate u" there isn't much comparison, is there? i have classmates i truly love (such as sheryl and eunice) and i'm perfectly comfortable with them, but love doesn't always make conversations easy.

why cry when angels deserve to die? i know this statement makes no logical sense, x, but it makes me guilty-sad and curiously at ease.

i just heard a gunshot.

i don't have much to say. i prefer to write in freeform, full of words i don't know why come to be associated with me. my brain revolves around studying, believe it or not. i have finally been fine-tuned and oiled to the point of being practically insentient. school tomorrow. i'll live like i always do.

disturbing.

today is expansive, for some odd reason or other. still bleary-eyed, still at a loss as to smile, or laugh.

i feel horrendously young, which is wonderful. at times i forget i'm only fourteen, and it's nice to know that even if i end up screwing my life badly for say, two years - i'll only be sixteen when i recover. and as long as i don't get killed i still have a chance. brilliant, ain't it. i may be learning the entire Singaporean Youths Are The Future! thing.

just got back from doctor. i have giant orange pills and funny little blue pills to take. am also very amused, although the itch in by dose is a tad unbearable.

i am almost definitely falling ill.

red wolves, ethiopian wolves, timber wolves. i am grey - canis lupus.

am somewhat clear-minded today, more muted, less ecstatic. i have science tuition in five minutes, and i am still configuring my blog layout.
the bizarre dreams have more or less stopped, but they're coming back very soon. oh well. my throat feels as if i've just swallowed a snake.

i like phantom planet. i also finished thirty pages of chinese, a quarter of my literature essay, and rediscovered lord of the rings.

i had tortuous masses of dreams, all mixed up and twisted in my head. full of roses and nausea and black ink and and frustration and loss and i woke up on the verge of screaming i want you forever, i want you forever! then i proceeded to toss and turn fitfully for hours, till i had another dream in which i turned into a worm which squirted acidic juice on balconies. gross, eh?

i want to watch stanley kubrick's lolita because, well, we all have a little humbert humbert in us (and some more than others). being a perv gets banal, but when it's fun, it's fun.
i like to dissect the whole process of love, spread it out on a petri dish. but dammit, i suppose i have to be the romantic one. because you really can't figure out anything when you're lying down with someone (fully clothed), or when someone hugs you, or when someone tackles you across a bed. when you love someone, generally.

grand one, i'll be your 20th century toy, i'd give you instant pleasure anytime.
whew. kinda hot in here. i think i will make it that simple.

the word leviathan makes me laugh. i bet you don't know what it means.

one more chapter of history to go.
my fingers hurt.

am searching for new-layout graphics. preferably black and lipstick and mirrors; to the theme of radiohead's motion picture soundtrack. ugh. i also have a story to write, about a girl with a mask, but am missing out on creativity.

finished:
chinese assignment.
an entire cluttered page of math homework.
section as, science.

i feel good.

tomorrow's agenda:
two lessons' worth of chinese workbook.
section bs, science.
history.
think about literature essay.

just to remind myself. i have fifteen dollars!

i am going to take a break and spend a few minutes laughing at the pornographic comics i and heather drew at CAP. they feature s&m, nazi swastikas, gay people, flowery shower caps and bathtubs. there is something wholly aphrodisiac about CAP, you know, with guys straddling guys and oldenlandia and geisha-esque makeup.

the henna tattoo on my arm isn't showing any signs of fading away. from one angle it looks like a dragon, otherwise it looks like a mass of curly grass. i actually wish i knew the scale of how painful an actual tattoo would be like. i want a wolf/lupus on my lower back, as i have said many many times before.

kazaa stinks. /end rant

i had a dream last night, about person x and her hamsters. she tricked me into taking both her hamsters when i wanted nothing to do with her, and for a long time we played morbid video games at the arcade. then wendy from 2GY screwed up my handphone, not literally; of course. funny how she should be capable of talking to stray cats and loving her turtles because that was what drew me to her in the first place. er, i say, hitler was fond of his puppy. i've given up being mean to her, because she's gotten back what she gave to so many people. and i try not to gossip and the like, but i admit i have a little BitchQueen hidden in me somewhere. i tried to lie low, i tried to keep her away from person x, but i failed and maybe i should be apologizing for that too.

it is the school holidays, but i don't feel the need to put on suntan and tropical shirts. my agenda is more homework-based, but i figure i have time to spend with people i really love. so that's fine, i guess. will be watching about a boy sometime soon. i have a special love for wide blue eyes, such as in the case of hugh grant, brendan fraser, and daniel radcliffe (who isn't green after all.) still officially broke.