Sensational Hearts

Seasons In The Sun

2008-08-30T22:37:00.002+08:00

Goodbye to you, my trusted friend.
We've known each other since we were nine or ten,
Together we climbed hills or trees,
Learned of love and ABC's,
skinned our hearts and skinned our knees.

The first time I listened to this song was when I, myself, was nine or ten. My Primary 3 English teacher - Mdm. Tan - had this funny idea that singing English songs, every Tuesday of the week, in morning assembly, would help improve everyone's English (especially since my primary school was predominantly Malay/Indonesian).

I thought it was a boring song, at first - the lyrics made absolutely no sense to my nine-year old child brain - and I only memorized the lyrics because we sang it over and over again that year, and I like singing. But I was more interested in singing Uptown Girl, actually.

Shows how under-exposed I was to music as a kid. And that I had an early taste for boy-band pop. Anyway, I used to think this song was corny, like To Sir With Love (another song we had to sing... which my mother did not approve of at all), and for the past 7 years, the thought of it never once crossed my mind again.

Until now.

Goodbye my friend, it's hard to die,
when all the birds are singing in the sky,
Now that the spring is in the air,
Pretty girls are everywhere,
When you see them I'll be there.

I'm not sure when, but, last week or so, I was standing in the shower, thinking about what I should blog about next, and suddenly, I remembered this song for absolutely no reason. But then I realized... it completely fits.

Everything that's going on in my life, right now, it's all associated to change, to moving on, to leaving behind the past and seeking the future. That's a bit cliche, but it's true. Soon, I'll be so far away from everything I've ever known, from the country I grew up in, from all of my friends (I'm going to miss you guys, so much!), from the life I have here.

But that's not a bad thing, not at all. If there's anything I've learned, while growing up, it's that things change. People change. Circumstances change. Situations change. Nobody's ever been able to invent a perpetual-motion machine, because it's impossible. Nothing's meant to stay the same way forever.

It has to change, whether we like it or not.

We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.
But the hills that we climbed,
were just seasons out of time.

When I think back over all the stuff that's shaped me over the years, into who I am now, I realize how I could never have imagined myself turning out this way. If someone had told me, at age six, when I'd been so full of so many dreams, so many desires, that I'd develop obsessive-compulsive disorder at age 11, and not know it, or that I'd suddenly get an outbreak of acne that I thought would go away by itself, and never did... I would have been scared out of my wits.

But there's a reason nobody told me. It's not that nobody could have expected any of that to happen (which is true, but beside the point I'm trying to make), but because, if I'd known that would have happened eventually, I'd have tried to stop it, prevent it, keep it from happening, of, course, and then my life would have turned out picture-perfect, maybe, the way I'd imagined it to be, as a naive child.

Still, all of it happened for a reason. It taught me to be more understanding of others, to learn how to empathize, to realize that I can never have a perfect life, to accept that I have to love myself for who I am. I used to hate myself, so much. I'd call myself every possible insult available, just because I was frustrated with how I couldn't be perfect, no matter how much I tried.

I've learned that flaws count for so much more than perfection ever will.

Goodbye, Papa, please pray for me,
I was the black sheep of the family.
You tried to teach me right from wrong.
Too much wine and too much song,
wonder how I get along.

What does all of that have to do with change? Quite a lot. When my life was crappy and I was miserable, I thought it would never end. I'd long for the past, wish I could still be six years old - I even prayed for God to turn back time for me, once. But, then the bad times... they started to fade slowly.

It wasn't an instantaneous change. First, it was just small things, but then, the big things followed too, and one day, I woke up and found out that I had nothing to be sad about anymore. The good times, the happy ones... they've finally started. And I'm not going to let them go again, not as easily as before.

Once you've weathered the storm, you find out that, no matter how brutal it may have been... you wouldn't trade it for something less harsh, or less hard. Why? Because it's your storm. Those experiences, good or bad, are what made you, into you. Despite how much you may wish you were someone else, how much you may try to be that other person, being yourself is always easier; it's what's best - for you and for everyone else.

Nobody else can be you. You can't be anybody else. Your experiences are unique to you, and you only; your thoughts are yours only. You might think you're boring, or less interesting than that other person out there, who's supposedly better than you, but you're not. Your stories, no matter how simple or insignificant they might seem to you, could be the most mind-blowing things to somebody else.

But, this is so far off-topic, yet again, so let's get back on track, okay?

Goodbye, Papa, it's hard to die,
when all the birds are singing in the sky,
Now that the spring is in the air.
Little children everywhere.
When you see them I'll be there.

For me, I define the seasons in my life, based on the details of what was going on in my life, then. Say, I was obsessed with watching MTV every afternoon, earlier this year, before I took my O Levels, but then, once I was done with my exams, the urge to watch MTV faded, and I found it to be the bland channel it always was, once again. However, I'll forever remember that phase of my life, where I watched MTV in the afternoons, while doing laundry, as the phase when I was nervous, scared - afraid I wouldn't do well in my exams - and procrastinated studying, all the time.

See, small things like that change, just as the big things do, and in a way, it makes parts of life easier to remember, and differentiate from each other. The kind of music you listened to one year, would be different the next year, as you discovered more bands and more songs. So, when you listen to certain songs, you could suddenly be brought back to a time in your life when things were different from the way they are now.

Which is a good way of reminding you to treasure whatever you have now... because you won't always have it, and once it's gone, you can't get it back.

We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.
But the wine and the song,
like the seasons, all have gone.

I used to always look forward to the future, but too much so, that I would forget about living in the present. I'd always think, "One day, I'll have a better life than the one I have now." But by doing that, I robbed myself of being happy with what I had then. I didn't know how much I'd miss secondary school - as much as I hated it - until I'd left. I wouldn't want to go back, but I still miss the familiar routine of waking up, sleepy and upset in the mornings, and having to do homework every day.

That's why, I'm not going to waste my days anymore. No more thinking of trying to achieve the perfect, unattainable future. It'll come when it comes, and I'll take it as it does. But for now, I'll just be happy that I'm healthy, that I get to laugh over little things, that I have a bed to sleep in, that I have the coolest friends ever, and that I've got so many reasons to smile.

Goodbye, Michelle, my little one.
You gave me love and helped me find the sun.
And every time that I was down,
you would always come around,
and get my feet back on the ground.

This season in my life, it's coming to an end soon. One more month, and I'll watch a new season unfold before me. I don't know what's in store, but I can hope and pray, it'll be a season as wonderful as this one is. However it turns out, I'll embrace it with open arms.

I can already feel the change happening. I've been hanging out on DeviantArt so regularly, now, that I've become really inspired to do art, and write. This sort of inspiration... I've never gotten it before. And it's the best feeling ever. I never want it to leave. I feel like I can do anything, and it's amazing to have so many ideas inside your head, all at the same time.

Oh, and I've also kind-of got myself hooked on watching VLogging videos on YouTube. There's a whole community of them, and I never knew there was such a thing as VLogging. Well, consciously, I didn't. Subconsciously, I think I did. I don't think I'd want to actually start VLogging (I actually pronounce that as "vee-logging", not "vlogging", eventhough I'm trying to get myself to stop), but I'm practicing some songs on the piano, so maybe I might post videos of myself playing the piano instead.

Funnily enough, I even have a subscriber, already. How'd that happen? (Rhetorical question. I know how it happened.)

Goodbye, Michelle, it's hard to die
when all the birds are singing in the sky,
Now that the spring is in the air,
With the flowers everywhere,
I wish that we could both be there.

Seasons In The Sun. I never understood the song's true meaning until now. I thought the idea of dying was cruel, and that the song was sad and served to make people unhappy. Now, I see that it was exactly what it was : a song about the seasons in life. About how happy some seasons were, how many seasons have passed, how you wish some didn't have to end, and how, after all of them have gone, the dreams you thought were so high up and hard to reach, you've already found, so long ago.

We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.
But the stars we could reach,
were just starfish on the beach.

The Olympic Dream

2008-08-15T20:40:00.003+08:00

I was thinking for a long, long time about what I should write for my next post here, and it's been really long since I last posted, hasn't it? Well, everyone knows what happened just a day after I posted - Lizzie passed away. I wrote a dedication post for her on my LJ, because I'd just updated here, then.

I didn't go to the MTV Asia Awards or to Panic At The Disco's concert, so I was pretty much just caught up with browsing art on DeviantArt, for the past two weeks. I'm not the kind to blog just because. If I have something to say, I'll say it, but otherwise, there's no point babbling about something you know isn't worth the read for someone else.

Anyhow, just one week ago, the Beijing 2008 Olympic games started. And I was thrilled. Ecstatic, even. When I was 8, my parents let me have my first taste of the Olympics, when I watched the gymnastics events on television. Needless to say, I loved every moment of it. In fact, I wished it was me doing all those fancy leaps and cartwheels. I still do.

When I was 12, I wanted to watch the games so badly. I knew the only way I could catch them properly was if my dad subscribed to the special Astro channels. I asked him, but he was wishy-washy about it, unfortunately. Come to think of it, that was the year when my parents unsubscribed to Astro, for awhile, so yeah. It was some sort of experiment-cum-punishment to see if we could live without cable TV. We could. Well, at least I could. I watched over-the-top Mandarin dramas every night at 8. T'was my life, then.

Let's move on.

So, when this year's Olympics rolled around, I was adamant, determined, desperate not to miss them, this time. I pestered my dad way more than I had when I was 12, and he followed through. I had to watch the opening ceremony on TV1, though (with two boring Malay commentators). But, on Sunday, I was glued to the front of the television, watching archery and fencing.

And so far, I've watched mostly the fencing events (because that's usually what's on at night). Which brings me to the part of this post, where I unveil my new celebrity crush:

Benjamin Kleibrink.

Yes, I know what you're thinking. "Not another German!" But, yes, it is another German, indeed. I didn't plan it, and I'm not biased, as in, I didn't just start liking him because he's German. He's a foil fencer, and that picture up there, was taken just after he won the gold medal in Men's Foil Fencing, two days ago.

Let's just say it was a love at first sight thing, if you please. I'd switched the TV on, checked the channels and flipped to fencing. The semi-finals were just about to start, and the four fencers were lining up on the piste to be announced. I saw him, and just kind of got a flutter in my stomach at how cute he was.

Then, when the semi-finals started, I automatically began rooting for him to win against China's Zhu Jun, and he did. It was a bit adorable, how he'd get so excited every time he scored - fencers (well, the ones I've seen, which would be quite a lot of them) scream every time they score, just so you know. They do the air-pumping fists and everything.

When the semi-finals ended, I tried to stick it out, and watch the whole four hours of the broadcast, so I could watch the finals too, but I'd unfortunately, ate too much yogurt in the earlier hours, so I had a bad stomachache by 11pm. There were still another 2-3 separate bouts to go, before I could watch the final, so I gave up and went upstairs to shower instead.

When I finished, I went online, just after the finals had ended, and checked if he'd won, and yeah, he had. Turns out he jumped on top of his coach right after he scored the winning hit, and there was a picture of it, and well, it was like watching a little kid, actually. It made me smile. And I was also very upset that I'd decided not to stick it out and watch the final match.

Luckily, the next day - yesterday - I found a replay of the broadcast, and did get to watch the final match (whilst I stirred my gingerbread dough mix - a very risky feat). I didn't even care that we had people coming to see the house (potential tenants for when we move to New Zealand), and I looked a tad bit weird, sitting down in the living room, eyes trained on the TV screen, but also stirring flour into gingerbread mix in a bowl too small to fit it all.

Can I admit that I now have a not-so-secret ambition of going to the 2012 Olympics in London, just so I can, possibly, watch him fence live? If he's still competing, of course. Oh, and you know me, I'd probably try to get his autograph too. Or a picture. Either one. Or both works too. Gosh, I'm insane.

Oh, and something else happened today, actually. I went outside to check the laundry and the mailbox, and I found a letter, which I thought was meant for my dad or my older brother... until I actually looked at the addressee name and was stunned when I saw mine. I was practically saying out loud, "Huh? I don't get mail, what the hell?"

Yeah, and then I saw the British Council logo printed on to the letter, and had a massive heart attack. I prayed a really anxious and pleading prayer before I opened it, and, not daring to peek even, looked at my O Level results. First thought: "I didn't fail anything, YES!"

Here are my final exam results, including the other two subjects I took in November last year:

English - A
Art - B
Geography - A
Mathematics (Syllabus D) - B
Human & Social Biology - B
History: World Affairs (1917-1981) - C

I'm actually really surprised out of my socks (not that I wear any) that I got an A in my Geography, and not in my Maths or Biology. I didn't expect an A in Geography, well, not exactly, because I'd had trouble finishing the papers on time, and it seemed to be a never-ending fight with the questions during the exam.

Not to mention, I was freaking out after the last paper, just because I didn't answer one one-mark question and finish writing one last sentence in one of my long paragraph answers. Lee Yee can attest to this. I was SMS-ing her about it, right after the exam. I'm perfection-obsessed, yeah.

My Maths and Biology papers had been much easier. But I guess I must've just got some equations and facts wrong, thus the B-grades. The C in History is absolutely no surprise for me. I hadn't been well-prepared for the paper whatsoever, especially since I just couldn't force myself to read the thick, small-print RM70 book on 20th Century history that my dad had specially-ordered for me from Kinokuniya. My eyes would literally glaze over and my mind would wander, so it was pretty pointless for me to try.

I did study for History using a normal textbook, but the questions asked in the exam, veered several thousand miles off from the material I'd covered, so I was kind of screwed, no matter what I did. Thank God, I didn't fail it, and that's a cause for celebration, no?

It'd be the absolute worst if I failed. Because failed subjects don't count as credits. And if they don't count, it means my dad wasted the money he'd used to pay for me to take the exam, in the first place. Okay. I'm sounding way too serious, now.

I was scared to tell my dad about my results, though. It's kind of humiliating to not get grades as stellar as your older brother's, especially when you beat that certain older brother in terms of PMR results. I was also afraid he'd lecture me on my C instead, since it's common knowledge I left all my studying to be done last minute. Basically, I mean, right now, I'm on great terms with my parents, and I don't want that to get butchered again.

Thank God, again, my dad wasn't mad or angry or disappointed or upset or anything at all. In fact, he was smiling when I told him, and even when I mentioned the C, he was still saying, "Very good, very good." He didn't make a fuss or a big deal out of it, even! You know what, for the first time in forever, I saw my dad genuinely being proud of me. And great, now I have tears in my eyes.

I always felt kind of second-place next to my elder brother, even when I surpassed him in school results. When I got 5As in my UPSR, my dad hadn't been proud then, not really. He just said that every kid gets 5As nowadays, so it wasn't a big deal. It kind of got better when I got 7As last year in my PMR. I mean, we went out for dinner in Nando's to celebrate, and stuff.

But this evening, after I told my dad my results, I eavesdropped on what he and my mom were talking about in his office downstairs, and I heard him tell her how good my results were for self-study, and I just felt like the happiest girl alive. Truly.

All my life, I've always wanted my parents to be proud of me. When neither my mom nor my dad came to see me accept an award at school, when I was 10 (you know, those awards they give to kids who do the best in certain subjects), I cried into my mom's lap later, when she came to pick me up, because I'd wanted her to be there. I'd wanted my dad to be there. I'd wanted them to see me, and be proud.

Maybe this is why I love watching the Olympics so much. When you see an athlete rejoice and celebrate after winning the gold medal, how happy and overjoyed they are to have achieved something so great, to have done their country proud, you just get a warm feeling inside of you. You had the opportunity to share their triumph - just by watching and supporting them.

For me, I may not be an Olympic athlete, nor will I ever wear a gold medal around my neck as my country's national anthem is played to the billions of people in the world watching, but I've tasted the Olympic dream. I know what it means to have done well, and have somebody be truly proud of me.

Angels

2008-07-28T18:53:00.005+08:00

Summertime. My mom took that picture during my little sister's birthday party in May. The white stuff flying around is fake snow spray, because last year, at my school carnival, my class had the brilliant idea of selling fake snow spray in cans, and not only did we make, probably, the most profit out of any of the other Form 3 classes, we also turned the entire school campus grounds into a giant snow spray fight. I mean that.

The teachers even had to make a public announcement for the kids to not get carried away and spray any of the food being sold, or at each other's eyes and mouths. Because obviously the stuff is poisonous. Some people were drenched by the end of the day - like soaking wet, because once the snow melts, it just leaves like a sticky wet feeling if it were a little, but if it was a lot (and some girls sprayed the guys way too much) it'd melt into like water instead.

But it was funny, and it was fun.

The snow fights actually started from about two weeks before the carnival, because the school had this idea that pre-promotion could help boost sales. And it did. All the other classes were hooked on the stuff, like it was a drug, and they had millions of spontaneous fights and attacks in-class. So, everytime their ammunition ran out... ka-ching. My class had to keep getting their supplies restocked, and our stall was crowded the whole day when carnival rolled around.

Anyway, my mom brought my siblings to the carnival, of course. And my little brother liked the stuff (well, of course - he loves water guns, what more fake snow) so my mom bought him a can or two at first, but then they ran out. So, she bought more. Then, she thought they'd be good to buy for my sister and her friends to play with, or as presents.

So, she bought more - I think we had about 10 cans or significantly more than that. I don't really remember because we used a few of them up real fast, and when we came home, we still had more fights.

But this isn't the point of my post. I just felt like talking about the snow spray cans, and sharing that pretty picture which I generously Picnik-ed. Yeah, not Photo-shopped.

Okay, let's move on to what I really wanted to discuss: angels.

Do any of you believe in them? Like, do you really think we have guardian angels, all of us? Well, thanks to Janella so kindly introducing me to this story on FictionPress.com... I started thinking about it, and then I remembered.

My siblings and I had a little experience when we were really young, as in I think I was either eight or nine, ten at the most, at Centrepoint. For people who don't know where or what that is, just think of it as a your local neighborhood shopping complex - not a mall, smaller - where there's a playground, supermarket, bookstore, etc.

It's a place near where my old house is, and my mom used to take us there all the time, especially for after-church lunches, on Sunday, at the bakery there.

So, I guess it had been on one of those Sundays, and we'd just finished having lunch, and had run off to play in the playground, as usual. My idea of church then, was Sunday School, which is for small kids and you basically sing songs and listen to stories or play games while your parents sit in the service upstairs.

I think I had won a ball through one of the games that Sunday or someone had given it to me, and it was a real squishy, bouncy ball, too. Of, course we were still playing with it, bouncing it up and down and throwing it around...until it bounced up and over the railing nearby, and fell into the drain near the car-park area below.

I thought we could just go down and get it, but then I noticed the solid metal bars which barred the drain from the car-park, so we wouldn't be able to reach it (or at least, that's what 'young' me thought) even if we tried. I remember thinking up all sorts of solutions to fix my problem, and asking my older brother for help. I really wanted my ball back, after all.

Just then, as I'd been looking down at the drain, staring longingly at my ball, I heard a lady ask from the bench nearby, "Are you looking for this?" and there on the bench, was my ball. Seriously.

The funny thing was, I wasn't the least bit shocked. I just looked back over the railing at the drain, wondering how she could have gotten to my ball so fast and back (it'd only been down there for five minutes at the most), and stared back down, checking to see if maybe she had just somehow been bizarrely nice and bought me a new ball, but no.

The only thing down in the drain now was a yellow-green ball, and my ball was distinctly red. Just like the ball, which sat innocently on the wooden bench in front of me, next to the still-smiling lady. She really did look nice. She was Chinese, and her hair was cropped at her shoulders, or maybe it was longer, and she was dressed as if she had just come from the office, in a grey skirt-suit and high-heels.

I gingerly stepped forward, took the ball - I don't remember if it felt slimy from the drain or not - and walked away from her, turning my back. I can't remember if I even said a simple 'Thank you' but I guess I was just so surprised I forgot my manners.

And guess what? It felt like she'd just disappeared as suddenly as she'd appeared. I mean, I'm sure I must've looked back once I got to my siblings, and I don't remember seeing her still sitting on the bench or anywhere nearby.

Another strange thing would be the fact that she hadn't been carrying a handbag with her, and I mean, everyone, especially an office-worker, would have their handbag with them at all times. Oh, and did I mention it was a Sunday, and there's obviously no such thing as office work on Sunday?

Even her stance was kind of different, you could say. She wasn't just sitting on the bench - she was relaxing on it, with her arm draped on the top of the bench, as if she hadn't a care in the world. When I told this to my mom then, she reminded me of another incident that had also happened in Centrepoint.

That incident happened maybe a few months, or a year or more, before the previous one. We'd been playing - all of us, my brothers, my sister and I - at the very same playground where I'd lost the ball, while my mom was at the supermarket doing some grocery shopping. When she came back, she looked around and suddenly panicked because my little sister had disappeared.

Now, for a little girl, no more than three or four years old, getting lost, is dangerous enough. But when the said little girl is also a special-needs child, it makes things ten-times more frightening. My mom was furious at my brothers and me for not looking after her better.

We went searching for her immediately, of course. I ran off in the direction of a gift shop, which was near one of the entrances which lead to the outer part of the building, and on a hunch, went outside. I was completely relieved that my sister was safe, and she was right there, in front of me, sitting down beside a teenage girl, who appeared to be sketching or writing in a notebook.

They were a ways away from me, about a few shop-blocks to the left of the entrance I'd come out of, and my sister was just peering over at the notebook, watching whatever the girl was doing. When I called to my sister to come - I didn't go over to the older girl because I was intimidated, yes - and she did, the older girl just got up too, and didn't even glance at my direction, her eyes focused on the road as if she saw something she'd been expecting, and walked away, down the steps, and out of sight.

I don't remember if she got into a waiting car, or not.

All I know is that she had seemed completely at ease with my little sister watching her, and hadn't even been worried that a small girl had appeared out of nowhere and had sat down next to her. I mean, normal people would've looked around for parents, or at least, when I came, acknowledged whoever it was that was looking for her.

This girl didn't. As if it was her job to just sit there, and make sure my sister was entertained, until I found her. When I told my mom about the strange girl later, that was when my mom had first brought up the idea of her being an angel.

Quite sometime ago, my mom had mentioned the concept of gateways between heaven and earth, and that they were usually specific places. So, I asked her if Centrepoint could be one. She said it might be possible, since we'd already had two experiences with angels there. Gateways are how angels enter and leave earth, apparently.

Now, I know you might wonder why the angels didn't look like what we normally think angels look like, but really, angels can take on any form they want. There's even a testimony by a very famous man who was a drug-addict who'd been in and out of prison many times, and then became a Christian, and the leader of a revival movement in Canada.

He'd been trying to talk to some people in a bar, a bar full of people who used to be like him, and none of them would listen and kept laughing at him. But, then, this guy with spiked hair, tattoos, piercings and everything, suddenly yelled, in a really fierce way, "Shut up. You listen to him."

He believes it was an angel sent to help him. And the guy really looked messed up, like a regular low-life, who should've been laughing along with everyone else. Angels don't have to be dressed in white, with halos over their head, for them to be real.

After all, you'd probably pass out if you did meet somebody who looked like that, and people wouldn't take their minds seriously, if they did see a sparkly, glittery angel in white robes trying to help them. It's pretty logical that angels would dress up as regular people, but do extraordinarily different things than what regular people would do.

It's funny. I've never really thought about those experiences in such a long time. Maybe, because children really don't analyze things as much as adults do; they just accept what is for what it is. In fact, I wouldn't be shocked to meet another angel again. It's seems kind of normal. Well, to me.

Strange things have happened to me before. I was once left a plastic-wrapped W Juliet manga, in my desk at school, a few days before my 15th birthday. It'd been left in there either during recess or during Life Skills class, which required all the girls in my class to file out to the adjacent class, and all the boys in that class to file in to my class, and take our seats.

Because I had the luck of sitting right in front of the loudest, laziest, most trouble-making boys in my class, their equally as annoying friends always sat in my spot, and messed my place up for me. So, I assumed they'd just forgotten one of their usual toys. It wouldn't be the first time it had happened.

I dumped it on the desk of the guy behind me - which was cluttered with his textbooks and exercise papers - and expected someone to take it. Nobody did.

In fact, I asked him later, and he said he had no idea whose it was. I asked the guys in the next class - same answer. The girl next to me (the one who later never spoke to me again after my birthday) told me to keep it, because obviously, unless somebody announced they'd lost a nice, new manga over the morning assembly, I wasn't going to find it's owner anytime soon.

I did keep it, and nobody ever came knocking for it.

It was illegal to bring such stuff to school, anyhow. There was no way for whoever had lost it to find it unless the perpetrator of the steal revealed it's location. Though, I like to believe I had a secret admirer once, and that he gave it to me, especially since it did appear there after the class had been filled with boys, and only boys.

But, sometimes, I just think some poor girl had it stolen out of her bag by some mean person, who just wanted to play a horrible trick on her, or to get revenge, and had stashed it in my desk, hoping nobody would find it, or that they could come back after school was over, and take it out of my desk, so the evidence could be disposed of permanently.

But, then again. Why go through so much trouble? They might as well have dumped it in a trash bin. Nobody ever looks into those. Or flushed it down a toilet - trust me it happens. Unless they wanted to take it back home, but it'd be crazy to leave it in my desk - why not in one of their friends' in another class' desk?

It's perplexing, yes. I guess I'll never know the mystery of how the manga wound up in my desk. Especially since I'm not attending that school anymore, and I'll be leaving the country permanently in two months.

Yikes. I've talked and talked and talked out of my own point. Angels, right? Well, there isn't that much more to say, other than me letting you see this lovely snapshot I took of my avatar in Second Life looking so serene and peaceful on a bench.

Oh, and for anyone who's interested in reading the aforementioned story that Janella introduced me to, here's the link: http://www.fictionpress.com/s/1610042/1/The_Contract

Trust me, it's an incredible piece of work to read. If you love Twilight, you'll love this too (though, I think the author really needs a beta to proofread her chapters - they have spelling and word errors, including some grammatical ones, so you can really get confused for awhile - which is why I've heard she's rewriting it, and that's good).

And if you love the first one, check out the sequel! It's on her author page, just scroll to the bottom - or I'll just link you, like the nice person that I am: http://www.fictionpress.com/s/1992575/1/The_Contract_II

I heard she's writing up another installment to this, as well. So ends another long, long, long and winding post which has made your eyes spill out of their sockets from boredom. (;

One last thing:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY!

Panik

2008-07-13T18:41:00.004+08:00

My latest German band obsession - Panik!

It all started when I was browsing a bunch of Tokio Hotel communities on LiveJournal. I was in one called Kaulitz Daily, and I saw the username Lirren, which instantly rung a bell with me because one of the admins on the Tokio Hotel International forums, is called Lirren. So, I added her as a friend, and I noticed her LJ header had a band called Panik on it.

I checked them out, found the community PanikFans and joined, watched their videos on YouTube (because that's the only way to hear their full-length songs, as I searched high and low on the internet for their album and failed), and read their Wikipedia page.

Actually, when I read their Wikipedia page, I was a little afraid to like them, as crazy as it sounds. I'll tell you why, but first let me point out who's who in the picture above (it might take awhile to tell them apart, especially when you watch their videos).

Left to right: Linke, David, Juri, Franky, Jan, Timo.

Can I admit that I have a crush on Jan? He looks damn hot in this picture, okay. They all do. I think only Timo doesn't have blue eyes, and only he and Franky don't have blond hair. You can't tell that the rest of them have blond hair, though.

David and Linke dye their hair black, and Juri and Jan always wear caps. There was one interview I watched when Juri took his cap off, and I think I was staring at how blond his hair is, the whole time. Imagine if David and Linke didn't dye their hair. I'd be mesmerized.

But I have to admit, I think their black hair is cute too.

Okay, where was I? Oh, yeah. Why I was scared to like them.

They have a very tragic background. Timo and David are childhood friends, and both of them had their dads leave when they were young. Timo begrudges his dad a lot, because his dad divorced his mother when he was a year old, and never supported them, so he was working by the time he was 15, and he and his mom were living in a one-room apartment.

David's dad cheated on his mother, and left without a word. There's a song, So Wie Du, which he wrote based on his experiences with his dad. It's a very harsh song, and the lyrics practically scream anger. It makes me sad when I read the translation.

Originally, David, Jan, Linke and Timo were in a band called Panik, since 2002, but when they got discovered in 2006, and Franky and Juri joined, they changed their name to Nevada Tan. After their first album - Niemand Hort Dich - was released in early 2007, bad stuff happened. Real bad.

Their current management then, technically stole all the money they should have received from their album, and trademarked their name without them knowing. When they sued the company, and left, they had to change their name because legally, it wasn't theirs anymore. So, it was back to Panik.

I know they still hate their old management for what they did, because I watched another interview where they were saying how they would probably beat up any new band the company produced, if they used their old name. I don't blame them.

Anyhow, when I'd read up all of this, and looked at the translations of their lyrics, I did get just a bit intimidated. I'm not used to liking bands with such... vivid emotions... portrayed in their songs. Quite a few of their songs are full of feelings like resentment, bitterness, depression, etc.

But I understand why they'd write such songs, after all. At least, they're being real and personal about their music. Sometimes, when I read interviews in the magazines with some artists, and they say that their entire album is full of songs which allow people to have fun, well, that just turns me off.

Fun is good, but fun isn't what the world's like. Life isn't fun. Life sucks. I prefer listening to and having an album which gives you something to think about, and ponder. It helps you connect more with the music, when you know it's something personal to the artist.

When you have that connection, that's when you start obsessing.

Panik's music is admittedly much deeper than Tokio Hotel's is. Their lyrics are written in a story-telling style, and convey more fruit for you to chew on than TH's songs do. Okay, fruit to chew on is a rather lame line, but I don't care.

I still love TH, okay! It's true; TH and Panik are two incredibly different bands. TH's songs are addictively awesome but their lyrics are pretty simple and straight-forward. I like to think that the reason for this, is because they started performing and recording when they were 12 to 14 years old. They all came from a small town, and although Tom and Bill's parents got a divorce too, their mom was remarried by the time they were seven, and it's because of their step-dad that they got into music (he used to be in a band).

So, I doubt that they had much of a troubled childhood to base any of their songs on.

I'd love to tell you more about Panik, but I've unfortunately, written a twenty-mile long blog post, once again. I don't think I'll ever stop writing essays when I post - I can't resist the temptation. Why don't I close this by saying that I'll definitely be keeping a close watch on Panik from now on. Maybe, one day, I'll see them grow, out of their unhappy and tainted background, and be able to forget their past.

Maybe they can help me forget mine too.

Miss Invisible

2008-07-08T01:39:00.010+08:00

Miss Invisible

There's a girl
Who sits under the bleachers
Just another day eating alone
And though she smiles
There is something she's hiding
And she can't find a way to relate
She just goes unnoticed
As the crowd passes by
And she'll pretend to be busy
When inside she just wants to cry
And she'll say...

Chorus

Take a little look at the life of Miss Always Invisible
Look a little harder, I really really want you to put yourself in her shoes
Take another look at the face of Miss Always Invisible
Look a little closer and maybe then you will see why she waits for the day
When you'll ask her her name

In the beginning, in the first weeks of class
She did everything to try and fit in
But the others they couldn't seem to get past all the things that mismatched on the surface
And she would close her eyes when they laughed and she fell down the stairs
And the more that they joked
And the more that they screamed
She retreated to where she is now
And she'll sing...

Chorus

Take a little look at the life of Miss Always Invisible
Look a little harder I really really want you to put yourself in her shoes
Take another look at the face of Miss Always Invisible
Look a little closer and maybe then you will see why she waits for the day that you will ask her...her name

And one day just the same as the last
Just the days spent in counting the time
Came a boy who sat under the bleachers just a little bit further behind...

The song above is by Marié Digby. I cried the very first time I listened to it. She didn't have friends growing up, and this song describes her experience. It's very different from normal songs, because you know the emotion behind it is real, and you know the hurt is real too.

I used to feel exactly like this. I tried so hard, to make everyone like me, to be accepted, but nobody wanted me. I was a tag-along. The girl they let sit with them during recess, but when it came to group projects in class, she'd be the last one to be asked.

I was the one who once had to sit out of an assignment because I was absent and nobody included me in their list. Really, I was invisible. When I was in primary school, the only two girls I hung out with, used to pretend I was a ghost and they couldn't hear me until it wasn't funny anymore, and I'd be upset but they wouldn't care.

It was a fun game for them, but it wasn't for me, at all.

In kindergarten, none of the other girls wanted to be my friend. I'd have no partner in ballet class. My teacher would ask me, "Which girl is your friend?", when I was partner-less, and I'd just point at the girl I wished was my friend, but wasn't.

I would be best friends forever with girls for one year, and then it'd be as if we were strangers, when we passed by in the hallways. People only know that I quit school to take my O Levels, but the real reason I quit school was because I couldn't take it anymore.

I couldn't stand another day spent reading alone in the library during recess, because I'd have nobody to sit with anymore in the canteen anyway. I couldn't take waking up early in the mornings to go to a place where I had to sit next to girls who dumped me the day after my 15th birthday.

Girls who'd talk in Chinese on purpose, so I wouldn't understand what they were saying, so I wouldn't be able to join in, so they could talk about everything they disliked about me, right in front of my face. And I couldn't do a thing.

I wasn't smart. I was failing school so badly. I'd skip two to three days a week, just to avoid seeing their faces, to avoid the teachers asking questions I couldn't answer, to avoid having to pretend I was fine. I wasn't. Far from it.

I didn't care, then. I wanted to run away.

Run away from my messed-up life.
From my wrecked past relationships.
From all the pain.
From all the sadness.

But as the last three lines of the song go... I didn't have to. I became a TC5 boardie instead.

I know I always talk about this. I feel like I'm dwelling in the past, but I can't help it when I hear a song like this. It just reaches inside of me, and pierces my heart. It reminds me of everything I've gone through, but it also reminds me of everything I've gained after.

(The avatars are just there as a pretty border to separate the song and the post, but I made them from the photographs taken by this girl - she's also the model, just so you know.)

16 Tries To Get It Right

2008-06-29T21:24:00.003+08:00

For the record, I'm writing this on the 30th of June, but I set the date to the 29th, because I want to at least see my birth date on my blog for once. With that cleared up... thank you so much to everyone who greeted me/gave me something on my birthday this year! This really was the best birthday I've ever had, so far.

This is the very first birthday I've celebrated with all of you guys, my very true best friends, and that's why it'll always be so special to me. I'm so grateful to God for having given me the chance to meet you all, and I know I say it all the time, but it's something I'll just never get over. If I didn't have all of you, I'd never have had any of the experiences we've had together, and those experiences are the ones I treasure most.

Thank you for giving me the best birthday gift ever: real friendship.

Sixteen times I've gone down this road
thinking that happiness was store-bought
that greetings didn't matter
and I could be satisfied with superficial love.

The fifteenth time however
everything crumbled and
the fake facade gave way to
misery and betrayal.

I thought I would never find out
what it meant to truly say
we'd be best friends forever
and stay that way.

Ready to kick out all that my life was
throw away my past
run into the future with dim hope
and try not to cry there.

A random twist of fate
a snap of it's fingers and
the blessing of a life made anew
I met all of you.

Sixteen years alone
but the sixteenth time forgiven
finally I know
how it feels to belong.

Quatre

2008-06-17T14:50:00.008+08:00

I'm finally back! ...and my excuse for being gone so long is... no inspiration, a slow computer and exams. Yep. All three problems are fixed now. I finished my exams 3 days before TC5's concert, and my dad gave me his old laptop - which is still a thousand times better than my old computer. And I've spent the past two days blabbing all about how much I love it everywhere. If anyone's wondering why I'm not on the boards from dawn to dusk anymore, it's because I'm too busy tinkering with all the things this computer lets me do!

Oh, and I think this is the perfect time for me to explain my new alias - Quatre. It's French for the number four, and you pronounce it as ca-utt. The story behind this, is that last Saturday, during youth church, we had to perform skits and we got split into three different groups. One was for boys, one was for girls, and the last one was especially for the Korean visitors from KL International Church. Now, each group only had like 8 or 9 people, at the most. Why? Because my youth church is still small and unknown, and we only got established last year in March, so yeah.

Anyway, so of, course, I was in the girls group, and we were randomly throwing ideas around about what our performance should be, since we only had 20 minutes to figure it out. Since there were eight of us, we thought of the Snow White and 7 Dwarfs concept. Eventually, this changed to the concept of a single mother with seven daughters, and like the seven dwarfs, each one had their own personality (I asked to be the confused one). To make things comical, we made the oldest and tallest girl in our group, into the youngest daughter, who's a spoiled brat.

So, then we needed names. My group leader's studying French, so she suddenly labeled us from one to seven in French, and I got number four - Quatre. Do you all wanna hear more about the skit? Well, doesn't matter if you don't want to, because I'm telling you anyhow.

The plot of the skit was that the seven daughters all acted loving and happy together when their mother was around, but the moment she turned her back, the daughters started fighting and bickering amongst themselves. One day, Quatre finally loses her cool when the confusion about her sisters behavior gets to be too much for her... and she runs away. Her sisters don't notice she's gone, of course, and when their mother comes home and realizes that her fourth daughter's missing, the truth about her daughters comes out and she's devastated. The ending is that the daughters finally work together, like a real family, and bring Quatre home.

Well, that was the plan. We only came up with that in a minute, so we were actually whispering to one another on-stage what to do and when, because we didn't have time to co-ordinate and fix the events correctly. And I actually did a good job of freaking out like Quatre's supposed to, but in the end, after they found me (I hid behind a curtain in the back of the room), we should have finished our skit with the lesson of that popular phrase from Lilo and Stitch - "Ohana means family, and family means no one gets left behind or forgotten." - but we didn't.

Things went out of control, and I think everyone didn't know what to do next, so the ending was weird. The good thing about this, is that the guys group also had the same problem, so the Koreans (their skit was pretty simple and it's what we were meant to do - something simple with a clear message - but also, a tad bit boring) won.

And this long drawling story explains why I'm calling myself Quatre now. On the internet, anyways. My new LJ and Skype accounts are http://quatrex.livejournal.com and xquatre. It beats using Jayne for everything, all the time.

Moving on, I've downloaded iTunes and Limewire onto my computer! How I love speed and free space. Oh, and Taking 5 too. Yay! And, much to my humiliation, I finally got Greetings From Imrie House. I have no idea why my thirteen-year old self didn't like Just The Girl or Catch Your Wave, and now, my sixteen-year old self loves them. I keep listening to I'll Take My Chances too. Sigh.

I'm still using my old speakers, but the songs are definitely different when played on this computer if compared to when they're played on my old one. Like Monsoon. I'm suddenly in love with it again, for some reason. I can hear sounds on the track which I couldn't hear when my old computer played it. Same goes for Believe Me I'm Lying by Forever The Sickest Kids.

I'll just reply everyone who's been leaving messages in my Cbox which I haven't answered yet, now. :]

ly : hahaha i break my own lamedar XD
Yes, you do. :D

cynthia : *breaks everyone's lamedar* *runs*
You have to pay for the broken lamedars! :O

eliada : YOUR EXAMS END TODAYYYYY~! *smacks cyn* stop breaking our lamedars, hun. XDDD
Yep, they did! & yes totally agree to the last bit.

lizzette : you have fun at the click show and at the airport tmw sweetie!
I had the best time at both, Lizzette! Thanks!

Sylvia : JAYNEEEEEE! YOU HAD FUN DIDN'T YOUUU? X] X] X]
LOL you said it three times! :D But of, course I did! *hugs Sylvia*

Mayyie : Hey Jayne!! Just dropping by to say hi! Haha over the click mood yet?
Hey May! Haha not at all. I just saw some vids from Genting, and now I'm having post-concert depression again. Just when I got over it. Sigh.

Wahlim : JAYNEEEEEE. UPDATE.
This is an update. :]

eliada : hello jaynebb ily! update your blog! its dead D:
I know! D: Hope this revives it.

d. eb : Oooh, this is a pretty layout. ;D
Yep! Searched Blogskins.com for quite awhile to find it. :]

I know I've always been promising an all-pictures post, but this post is turning long, again. So, I'll save it for the next time (don't worry, I can blog as much as I want now so maybe I'll stop writing such long, winding books every time I update and update more often).

I will let you have one picture, though.

Yes, that is Ben Romans, and this was taken by Melissa Tan during the Genting TC5 concert. What's so special about it, you might ask? Well, I uploaded it onto one of my albums in Facebook, and tagged Ben, so guess what? He's using it as his profile picture now!

That's a great honor for Melissa, and everyone's been commenting about how much of an awesome picture it is. And, it really is awesome! :]

Oh, and if anyone doesn't see their blog link on my listing, please tell me. When I was re-doing my layout, I forgot to save the links somewhere, so after I cleared everything, I had to re-write them, and I'm not sure if I missed anyone.

Monsoon

2008-05-19T13:39:00.003+08:00

I just have to be such a hard-core MTV lover, don't I? Well, I watched the replays of their award shows last year, over the weekend (which I should have been using to study for my biology exam on Wednesday), and I discovered what a Woodie is, and that it's the first award Boys Like Girls won, and that I absolutely love the song Monsoon by Tokio Hotel. Ok, I pretty much love Tokio Hotel now.

There's a difference between liking a band's music, and actually getting impacted by the band itself. I, for one, get introduced to new bands all the time, and if I like how they sound (especially the singer's voice), then I'll download them onto my playlist, and for those bands I really, really like and I know I'll never get tired of their songs and would pay to go to their concert, I put as my favorites.

And then, there's the one rare exception. Eventhough I like all the aforementioned bands, and I listen to their music... I'm not motivated to actually get to know the band; I just enjoy their music. That's what set apart TC5, in the first place. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but I was suddenly reading their interviews and I kind of fell in love with how real they are.

That's why I wanted to meet them so much, and know everything about them. They're interesting. You may want to go to a band's concert, but you probably wouldn't care much whether you met them or not, depending on how much they've actually impacted you, just by being themselves.

A serious, die-hard fan loves the band itself, and not just the band's music.

This is a conundrum, though, when you consider how many teenies love the band itself only, or only became interested in the band because of the singer's looks and then, only started caring about their music. But, I don't think it's our place to judge teenies, anymore, as much as we hate them.

Sure, they might be pretty clue-less sometimes, and babble too much about how hot the band members are, and be so nice it's a bit fake, and think they're the most hard-core fan out there, and that's annoying, yes, but they're still fans. Misguided maybe, but they still buy albums, not illegally download the songs (usually, they don't or they do and then buy the album later, anyway), and they still pay to go to the concerts and buy band merchandise and everything. They still contribute to the band's earnings.

It's just because of the fact that they're usually cocky show-offs on the boards, that we hate them. But, I don't think it's fair to classify those kinds of girls as teenies so much, anymore. They have every right to be as passionate about the band as much as we do, don't they?

I think the only thing we can truly hate is when someone who knows nothing about the band, has never heard them play before, knows none of their songs, and basically doesn't care about them at all, enters all those pre-show contests and wins them, making the band think that they're the real, serious fans and they get all the glam and free stuff that comes with it, which should've gone to the real fans.

That's what we used to call teenies, remember? And now, the TC5 boards are probably the most malicious ones around, because a portion of the girls who joined didn't know the rules and the way the boards work, and we weren't tolerant enough to show them the way nicely, I guess. I'm not blaming anyone. I've bashed so many of them so many times, and although, at the time, I could barely stand them, it was also the wrong thing to do. :(

I think we've all forgotten that when we first started liking TC5 or perhaps any other band we were once crazy about, we were just as obsessed as they were. I remember wanting to gather every scrap of information I could on them, watching every video, gushing over how cute Kyle looks, and wanting to meet them desperately. That was last year. Now, I'm pretty much over them all, and I don't remember why I liked them so much in the first place.

I could miss the June 7th concert, and not really feel like I've missed out on anything, other than not being able to spend time with my best friends. It's just a phase every fan gets, but they'll eventually outgrow it, and even if they don't, we shouldn't be mean or upset about it. We'll just have to accept it, and if we really can't stand it, just steer clear of them.

This doesn't mean we shouldn't point out that they've broken the rules, because we should. And if they don't learn, then to the mods we go. I know I sound like a patronizing school-teacher or something, but I don't want out boards to be so conflicted and hate-filled anymore. I don't want us harboring resentment against the 'teenies', because it hurts us too.

We're being racist when we generalize that all teenies are the same. Some, if given the chance, could've been really good friends. Sorry if any of what I've just said ticks you off and/or makes you never want to speak to me again.

I side-tracked too much. I meant to explain how Tokio Hotel impacted me, the same way TC5 once did.

Tokio Hotel has four members, and two of them are identical twin brothers, who don't look so identical anymore. Anyway, each brother has their own developed music taste and dressing style, which are basically polar opposites of one another. One has wild two-tone hair, and likes to wear tight stuff, and resembles the usual hard-core emo rock type. The other has dreadlocks, trucker caps, and wears baggy shirts and pants, making him look like a hip-hop enthusiast (which he apparently is).

So, anyway, I'd never in a million years have guessed that they're twin brothers who are supposed to be identical; they only look alike when it comes to their sharp cheekbones.

What does this have to do with me? Quite a lot.

Lately (or rather all the time...), I've been feeling so ordinary when it comes to how I dress and look; I feel like nobody really gets a sense of who I am, and what I like. I'm always pushing to find my identity, and I can never really find it. I always feel like I'm lost in other people's opinions, my parents' ideas of me, and the fact, that I'm basically not allowed to dress the way I really want to.

But, when a pair of twins can so distinguish themselves from one another, like that, and have such a unique sense of who they are, it gives me hope that maybe, one day, I'll be able to be that unique as well. They're like role-models for me. I don't want to be plain and usual with how I look. In fact, I've always been attracted to Harajuku styles and pop-out hairstyles.

It's just that, for now, I've no reason to dress that way. I don't go anywhere, and wherever I do go, isn't really worth dressing up. So, I'm biding my time until college. At least then, if I attend an art school, it won't be weird to look weird. And then, I won't have my parents barking at me because of the way I dress.

Tokio Hotel also impressed me with the fact that their band's been around since they were in middle school. And they really work hard on their music, especially since they're German, and they had to translate their songs into English and sing them as if they were written in English (you'd never guess that the singer actually has a thick German accent), when they released their international album, Scream.

Ack. I think I'm babbling about how great I think they are, now. *shuts up*

I'll probably still be missing from the boards, because of my horrible exams, which are starting to make me go mad. I keep wondering if I wrote enough to get the marks or not, and my dad's making it worse, because when I say there wasn't enough time, he says I didn't practice enough. Hell, I'm done with wanting to find the perfect way to study. I just want to get through this.

Running through the monsoon,

you're the world to the end of time.

And when I lose myself I think of you,

together we'll be running somewhere new,

through the monsoon.

Kanon

2008-05-10T01:01:00.003+08:00

Kanon! She's a Japanese singer, with a very enchanting voice. You give me the power, you give me the strength. I love that song. Anyway, I found out about her when I went searching for a way to download the opening theme for La Corda D'Oro Primo Passo. This fansite, Crescendo, had download links for her Brand New Breeze album, and for the album with the ending theme too (by Stella Quintet). The albums have the instrumental versions of the songs too.

So, then, I got so inspired that I wrote a one-shot for fun. Which I posted up on Fanfiction. net. And received 130+ hits last I checked, but only four people reviewed (including Bao-chan <3).

I like getting reviews and reading them. They make me smile, and I mini-spaz everytime I see an e-mail in my inbox that I've been reviewed. What I don't like is having to beg people to review. I don't want to be whiny, and demand people to review, but it's irritating to see the hits rise, while everyone keeps silent.

It's weird, but I see it as a sort-of rejection when that happens. I've seen other stories get thousands of reviews, and not to be obnoxious/mean/bitchy, I don't think most of them were all that great either. I work very hard to make sure my stories are neat, and written with proper grammar and spelling. Another thing I don't like is repetitive and over-used plots, so I make sure that mine are as original as possible, or I don't write it.

Ok, I'm not talking about the fanfiction in the La Corda D'Oro section. I'm specifying the Twilight section, since I've written three stories there (I had another one but I deleted it because it was a bit too much to handle, plot-wise). I've tried to tweak my stories to appeal more to the readers, taking hints from the stories with many reviews, but it hasn't worked.

Maybe it's just because I'm not writing stories involving the Cullens directly. But, there are thousands (I'm serious, there are about 20, 000+ stories in this section) of stories with them as characters, already. I'm simply trying to provide a little more variety for everyone. I guess it's tough when there are so many other writers out there to compete with.

I am glad, though, that I've had a few loyal readers since I started my first story (in May, last year! I'll be officially one year-seasoned at the end of this month). Sweet girls. I have some of them in my MySpace and Facebook, but we only talked occasionally. There was this one girl, though, who was nice enough to message me on MySpace and ask me what was wrong, when I was down once. I'll never forget that.

:]

Oh, gosh. I've gone through two out of three of my Mentos Sour Mix rolls, already. 99 cents each. They're like drugs for me. Ever since the supermarkets stopped supplying the Trebor Sherbet sweets, I've turned to Mentos to keep me satiated. They don't taste as good as the sherbet ones did, though. I think the company producing them discontinued the product, or went bankrupt.

On an off note, those sweets really did have this white powder substance inside them, so I wonder if they really were some-sort of drug? I used to go through two packs of 36-45 sweets in a day, when I was younger. My dad had them banned, but I still found ways to sneak them in. Like, secretly dropping them into the shopping trolley and my mom paying for them without realizing, most of the time.

Yes, I am a criminal mastermind. ;)

I think I'd make a good pick-pocket. When I was in primary 5, I went to my friend's table, picked up her pencil box in front of her and walked away, without her noticing, since I was so naturally calm about it. My other friend was so amazed. But primary 5 and 6 are not my happiest years. I have lots of reasons but I don't feel like talking about all of them now.

Lately, I've been having a very dirty imagination. Sigh. I feel both blessed and cursed to have developed so fast. On one hand, all the adults I meet always respect me more because they think I'm in college or working, and I could probably pretend to be older and not have anyone notice or ask questions, but on the other, I have to deal with all the stuff that comes with being a woman, not a girl.

My boobs got bigger than any of the other girls in my class when I was ten, and I was the only one who didn't want to wear a camisole. I wasn't ready to grow up yet. But, I did. Then, the attack of the acne came when I was eleven, and I didn't do anything about it (something I horribly regret now) because I didn't think they'd get so bad. Now, my face still has red marks like I've got pimples there, eventhough my skin is actually smoother than it looks.

And then, I got my period at age twelve, in school, and the entire class, all guys included, knew, because first my skirt was stained with so much blood (sorry, if this is grossing anyone out... :/), so my chair had some, then my friend like rushed me to the bathroom, but nobody cleaned the chair, and then this guy SAT on my chair, and my other friend went "ZOMG." and told him, then he was like, "SHIT." and then suddenly, the whole class knew because he kind of yelled or something.

Thank God, I didn't know what happened until the next day. Otherwise, I might as well have just died. Good thing, it's a taboo to talk about such stuff in my primary school, since the students were mostly Malay. My mom says I'm lucky, because if that happened at any school she went to when she was my age, I'd have been taunted and humiliated for days. :(

My feet growing to size 9/10 so fast when I was little, that I had to start wearing adult-size strappy heels before I even went to secondary school, is another thing I hate. I'd look at all the Bubblegummers shoes and wish my feet weren't so big so I could wear those instead, and not have to look at the adult sizes and wonder if they'd fit me or not.

I still feel sad that I didn't get to enjoy wearing Mary-Janes when I could still fit them. Regretting the past is very bad, but I wish I had a way to go back to when I was eleven, and tell myself to go wash my face. I wish I could go back to my six-year old self, and tell her not to pick at the dry scabs on her legs, because they'd leave scars.

But, what's done is done. Now, I've got to live with all the mistakes my childhood self made. I whine about this stuff too much. I'm like a tape recorder repeating the same things over and over again. I should just shut up and forget about the past, shouldn't I?

Ack, I completely side-tracked from what I was supposed to talk about.

The whole reason I started talking about my horrendous puberty stage, is because I feel like I'm older on the inside too, the way I am on the outside, sometimes. I'm always thinking about what it'd be like to have a relationship, to have my first kiss, to hold hands with a guy, to have sex. Mmhm, I'm very dirty-minded. :(

My mom says I'm too young for all this stuff, and that I should just enjoy being young and care-free while I still can, and just have guy-friends, but I think I grew up too fast, before I had a chance to be a kid, mom. I've been thinking about having crushes since I was seven. Heck, I had my first short-term crush on the twelve-year old I sat next to on the school-bus when I was that age.

That's primarily one of the reasons why I've always had problems being friends with any guy. I'm too conscious of the fact that I might give them the impression I'm attracted to them,or something like that. Another thing is that I went to a school full of Malay guys, so I never actually talked to any Chinese guys my age before, in my life, until I went to secondary school. I didn't have any guy cousins my age either, or neighbors.

I once went to the park in front of my old house when I was about nine or so, and I kissed my little sister on the cheek, when she was playing on the bouncy rides, and this guy my age saw me do it, and he yelled to the entire park of kids that I'm a lesbian. Which of, course, made me cry.

:(

His mom came out and scolded him, but I gave up on going to the park in the evenings, awhile after that. None of the kids liked playing with me either, and I was just too shy to ask if I could join in.

...I just realized that I've had a very messed up childhood. I even have a very early memory of when I was about two years old (babies remember certain stuff for weird reasons, sometimes...) and my mom brought my brother and I to one of the neighbor's apartments, in Singapore, to play with her two sons (they were mixed ang-mohs, that I remember too xD).

And I don't know why, but I think I did something which made them scold me, and I burst into tears, and ran to my mom crying, and I distinctly remember my mom and the aunty laughing. See, even as a two-year old, guys already made me cry. :(

OMG. Do you think I'm one of those girls who has problems with guys because of childhood trauma? :/

I just realized I have a long history of guys hurting me (there are more experiences, but I can't list them out, or this post will get even longer). Could this be why I'm so desperate for a relationship? So, for once, a guy won't hurt me but love me instead?

I guess this is why it's so tough for me to trust even the guys who are nice to me, or to realize that they're genuinely being nice (there was one guy who tried to be nice to me when I was in Form 2 but I was kind-of dumb and didn't know it). Ugh, go away stupid tears in my eyes, now.

Seriously. This never occured to me before. I always just thought I'd read too many romance novels, or watched too many movies or adult TV or something, so I was conditioned to think grown-up things.

I find it impossibly hard to believe that I'll ever find a guy who can actually love me. What guy could love someone as mentally and physically screwed up as me? I'm not worth it. Excuse me while I go drown in these tears now.

(You guys don't have to say anything, I know I'm always such a crybaby about everything.)

Probability

2008-05-03T02:56:00.002+08:00

This is the outcome of reading, doing, eating, breathing only mathematics for about a week or so, every single day: I now see cyclic quadrilaterals forming from the diamond shapes on my bathroom's tiled-wall.

I just finished doing the chapter on probability, and now, I'm thinking that the probability of incredibly hard probability questions coming out in the exam, is very scarce, based on the questions I've been doing, which are accumulated questions on probability from all the past exams. At least, I'd be able to do the first two parts of the question with little probability of me making a mistake. See, this is what I mean!

Ok, fine. I admit it. I purposely worded that whole paragraph with the maximum amount of usage of the word probability that was allowed, just to prove a point, but I was literally thinking that way just now. Imagine what vectors and matrices will do to me, then. Actually, I don't think matrices will do much, since matrices seem pretty useless to me (eventhough, their questions are kind of hard to solve).

On the bright side, knowing that I only have about five or so more chapters of maths to analyze and decipher, helps me to stay calm. The probability that I can finish all of them by the end of this weekend is one in two. Meaning, I can either do it or don't. So, pray I can do it, or else my study time for the other three subjects is going to be put in jeopardy.

Here's some motivation for you to pray for me! If I can finish my maths fast enough, I might have some spare time to compose a new fic chapter (for those of you who read my fic, which would mean everyone). Fair deal?

Getting off the subject of exams and maths and probabilities, I bought a new book today, after much hesitation and searching through the cluttered and haphazard shelves of Borders' YA Lit. section. I only have very limited space left in my book-drawer, and I still have seven other books I intend on buying, once they hit Malaysian shores (if ever...).

15% off all full-priced English and Malay books! Not even 50%. Pshhh. My brother misheard me and got all excited because he thought he could buy his hard-cover Warrior series (it's about wild cats who have clans and legacies and wars in a forest) books, since he can't normally, thanks to hard-covers being exorbitantly-priced, and our dad being so stingy that he once bought the hard-cover for my brother, without realizing it cost so much, and once he found out it was more expensive than usual, photo-copied the book for my brother and returned it to the store for the credit.

My brother was pissed, to say the least. Even he knows that having a photocopied version, is not only stealing, but that it's not the same for someone who prizes his favorite book series, and would rather have the nicely-bound original copy, than the knock-off (of, course).

It's weird how my brother and I used to be at odds with each other all the time when we were little, and now, we're like so alike, and he's the sibling closest to me, too. I think going to art class together, taking piano lessons together, and him hating and liking the same stuff all falls into the equation, I guess. Did you all know that if he didn't ask me to get him Jenny, I'd never have started liking TC5, never have joined the boards, and we all would never have met and become friends?

:O

It's amazing what one simple action can trigger. Keep this in mind, the next time you want to travel back in time, and rectify your past mistakes.

This blog is getting a little bland, without pictures and links, isn't it? It's all just words, words, words. Ok, if I go to the Neue Format Design Mart at +Wondermilk, this Sunday afternoon, then, maybe I might bring back some pictures or a non-academic/profound knowledge story, so you don't have to think so much.

Provided, of, course, that Lee Yee or somebody else accompanies me! (I don't want to go mingle with a crowd of college students all by myself. I could barely walk into the front lobby of KDU without fainting) I could have gone with Winnie, but she didn't know it was falling on this Sunday, so she's now off on her way to P. Redang for a weekend of sun, surf and beach.

I think I know how anorexic people feel, now. Due to my hard-core studying habits, I only eat one meal a day at night, once I'm done with my work, and chores. Sometimes, I eat a late-lunch, before that. But, once I'm done eating, I start feeling like I'm a pig and get a bit down. Eventhough, I should be eating three meals a day, and I know that only one meal is pushing it. But, I've had this dietary schedule for longer than just these past few weeks, in reality.

I haven't eaten breakfast normally since standard 4. I used to fall asleep in the afternoons after school, when I was in lower secondary, so I'd miss lunch then too. Which brings me to only eating dinner, sometimes. It's like normalcy for me now, so I guess I'm slightly paranoid that if I change that, and eat regular meals again, I'll put on weight. It's not crazy; it's common sense. I don't lose weight from eating only one or two meals a day, so I might gain weight if I add to it.

Yes, this is why I get why anorexic people find it so hard to eat, when they've gone without it for so long. Please don't call a psychiatrist or rehabilitation hospital on me, now that I've told you this, ok.

x]

I still like eating ice-cream, potato chips, candy, cookies, cake, and all that. It's not like I'm turning completely anorexic and starving myself. Just skipping meals! Nothing to worry about. Really. Once I'm done with my exams, and Click comes and leaves, I'm sure I'll have more time to focus on my snacking, then.

I find it so funny that my music player switched to Flipside, right after Inside You. A joke you probably won't get, if you're not a TC5 enthusiast. Ok, I must tape my mouth shut, and tie my hands up now, because this post has gotten to be two million miles long, thanks to my incessantly-wandering mind wanting to write down every single thought it gets, and using superfluous words and adjectives in it's sentences. Like, right now.

:]

Time To Tell The Truth

2008-05-02T01:16:00.003+08:00

I feel like I'm being kept from my one true love by my dad, like in all those romance movies. He doesn't support my passion at all, and it's such a big contradiction, on his part. Two years ago, he told me to go after my dreams, and to never tell myself 'no', and now he's telling me NO. My parents used to be so encouraging. Now, with my brother pursuing politics and economics and writing books, it's like... I don't know. Like, they want me to top that. Or they don't want me to do radical stuff like him.

My dad keeps putting more and more pressure on me about the exams. He keeps asking me how I'm doing, and I keep on having to lie. I feel horrible, but if I don't lie, I'll just bring unwanted attention on myself, and things will just be a whole lot more worse. Not to mention, I can't keep myself from swearing and cussing whenever something pisses me off, nowadays. Last time, I never even said the word 'shit'. Now, I say BIG words under my breath a lot, and that makes me feel even more ashamed of myself. I shouldn't be saying them, but I'm just so aggravated.

I can't write new fic chapters, or draw and paint, because I have to focus on studying, and working at maths, and feeling like an idiot everytime I do, because it just doesn't make sense to me. I literally spend the whole day staring at my maths book, and then, about an hour of piano-playing, and that's it. I feel so deprived. I want to read my books again! I want to draw portraits, and paint new pictures, and write more of my fic! And I can't. I CAN'T. It's killing me.

):

I tried telling my dad about my plans after the exams, and when I mentioned that the college I wanted to apply to, The One Academy near Sunway Lagoon, only needed a minimum of one 'O' Level credit for you to apply to their Art and Design Foundation program, he scoffed and said it must be a lousy school, if it had such a low standard. And it's one of the best art and design schools in Malaysia. I got so mad, that the moment he said that, I just said "Never mind." Then, he was all, "What?"

Seriously. My dad doesn't get ANYTHING. Ughhhh.

Nobody believes in me, not even my mom. And definitely not my dad. I don't know when this whole 'discourage Jayne from going to the USA' started. It's so damn irritating. Just because I say I want to go to the School of Visual Arts New York.

"New York's too dangerous."

"Go to Auckland University. It's free."

"Just New York? Why don't you think of anywhere else?"

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

I'm sick of hearing all this negativity! Why do only I believe in myself? Why do only I see my future? Why do only I think I can do it? No one has faith in me. I'm all alone. I'm tempted to swear again. Now, I know exactly how all my friends feel. This is the crappiest feeling ever.

And I'm expected to beat my elder brother's grades - 6 As 1 B. After all, I am the one who has gotten straight As in the UPSR and PMR, so why shouldn't I be able to top his 'O' Level score, when he didn't get straight As in either the UPSR or PMR? That's easy to answer.

Because I'm not a genius who can write and argue about politics and get a near-perfect SAT score, and get invited to a month-long leadership seminar in the USA because of my score. That's my brother, not me. Heck, I still have no idea how I got straight As in the UPSR or PMR! I expected to fail my PMR, thank you very much.

Now, it's like I'm forced to live up to something I don't know how I accomplished in the first place. And they expect this of me, but they don't think I'd be able to qualify for a scholarship to an art school. Crush crush crush.

I rarely like to fill my blog with rants, because I don't like writing out bad feelings and memories - I don't want to have to remember them, when they're finally over. But, I'm changing that rule now. If I can't be truthful with myself on my own blog, how can I be truthful with myself at all?

Just now, my sister was watching High School Musical, the original, and I started to feel reminiscent. It made me remember everything I used to love - school, clubs, activities. Can I ever go back now? Can I ever return? I never got to know what it'd have been like to really be involved in something. I'm hoping going to college would let me have that chance, but... it's always been in the back of my mind, that this New Zealand PR thing would come true, and then we'd leave and I'd get to go back to high school for another year, and be normal again.

But, it doesn't look like it's coming. I'm still praying, and hoping, but that faith and hope's starting to waver. I can't believe this. The one thing I always keep in mind, from the Bible, is not to worry. But I feel like, is God telling me to stop having false hope? Or does he want me to keep praying, and holding out, and believing, and to stop doubting? I don't know.

And I feel like I don't deserve to keep praying for this, because of my gutter-mouth habit lately. It just feels wrong. I wish, I wish, I wish. I tell my mom not to give up hope, but here I am, being weak, like this.

I want to live my own life, but I'll never be able to do that as long as I'm stuck here. My parents still keep tabs on my elder brother, eventhough he's already eighteen, and about to finish his freshman year. AND ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD. I, seriously, refuse to allow myself to get the same treatment when I'm his age. It's embarrassing.

Sometimes, I just get so sick of being drilled with the same crap all the time, that I just want to go against everything they've taught me since I was small, just to prove something. They think I'm going to go sleeping around with some overly-tattooed guy, and start doing drugs, if they let me out of their sight. It's ridiculous. They were NEVER this protective/strict when I was younger. Shouldn't I have more freedom, now that I'm older?

It's all because of that stupid incident, a year ago. Now, they need to know everyone's phone numbers, and they're paranoid I'll get kidnapped. Hey, if I get kidnapped, I get kidnapped. Goodbye, forget I exist. One less burden to spend money on, huh, Dad?

Before that stupid thing happened, my dad didn't give a damn who I went out with, didn't notice. Now, he wants to do all this shit. Ugh, I wish I never went out on that stupid outing, and I want to sue the creators of Death Note 2 for making it 3 HOURS LONG. Thanks to them, I now have to suffer for the rest of my life.

This all sounds incredibly harsh, but it's just the truth. I'm sick and tired of being compromising, and neutral. This is what's going on inside me, and this is what I think. No edits, no cuts. Judge me all you want. Just don't think it'll affect me one bit.

Some New Words

2008-04-30T19:37:00.003+08:00

Yay! I got my blog a new skin, and it's way more inspiring than my old one (and I get to cram more stuff into one web-page). After all, blogs are like your online soul, so it's crucial to get it just the right skin. I prefer navigational skins, since it makes it feel more interactive and then, you don't just stare at everything all spread out on one front-page. You get to visit their individual rooms! I'm lame, yes.

So, my exams are getting closer, and closer, and there's only two more weeks before the first paper, so I'm scrambling to get through my math, and then my biology. Plus, I still have this thick 800-page book on world history to read! And then, my neglected Geography books are pushed all the way back, but then again, Geography's easy to read and remember. Still, there's so much stuff to read.

But, the fact, that soon I'll be free, and partying up in Genting, motivates me to keep studying (besides, I like studying, just not the part where my answers come out wrong...) everyday. Oh, yeah! The Borders anniversary book-sale is this week. I hope they got new shipments in, already. The Luxe, Extras, Ink Exchange, The Sweet Farthing... I've been wanting them for practically forever now. And I really need some new reading material before my English starts degrading.

):

I hope Claire can convince her parents to let her go to Genting instead of her cousin's wedding. We already bought the tickets! Sigh. Family functions suck. Like, it's just a compulsory thing you do because your parents make you do it, and it completely doesn't matter that you don't know anyone there, and nobody would notice if you went or not. Grrr.

Oh, and we're going to make a giant Chatgasm emoticon dice to bring to the Click concert. :]

I'm thinking styrofoam bases, then I'll use my acrylic paints to paint them on, and then wrap the six-sides in clear plastic (if we bring it to the concert, the styrofoam wouldn't be able to survive on it's own D:), and then assemble it using sticky tack! So, you can un-assemble and re-assemble for transporting convenience. See, I'm innovative!

In this life

Give me love

Give me light

Show me everything that's been happening

Open up my eyes

- In This Life, Delta Goodrem

I really need to open up my eyes. Literally. Lately, I've been doing so many things without inadequate light, that my eyes are getting weaker. I just prefer being in the dark to the light, see. So, I usually keep the fluorescent lights off, when the sun's still shining outside, eventhough it's quite dark inside. But, it's exhausting my eyes. ):

My dad bought me a yellow-green sweater from Africa which I can't use in Malaysian weather, and won't use up in Genting, because obviously I'll be wearing my hoodie to the concert. And I now have another cat decoration in my room - it's a paperweight cat sculpture with brown fur-tones, and a speckled white tail. Very classy. Sort-of.

Oh, and my mom asked me if I wanted to go see a movie tomorrow, since it's Labour Day and it being a holiday and all. Which is kinda strange, since my mom generally thinks we go to the cinema more than we should. But, whatever. So, I'm thinking Definitely, Maybe. The rest of the other stuff isn't too appealing, and apparently, Definitely, Maybe's a good movie?

Actually, if I hadn't forgotten to call my youth church pastor's wife on Monday, we'd be watching The 11th Hour (that global warming documentary by Leonardo DiCaprio) tomorrow instead, since she said that she'd gotten 20 free tickets for anyone in our youth group who's interested. Oh, well. I accidentally watched half of An Inconvenient Truth on Sunday anyway, and that was enough for me.

Ok, enough of an update for now. See ya! :]

From Deep Down

2008-04-17T19:27:00.002+08:00

Here's how I feel about you, right now:

Every time, I see a guy who looks more physically attractive than you are, I just think of you instead. And I think that I don't care that they have muscles and better hair. I think that I'd rather have you put your arm around me, and walk hand-in-hand with you down the beach.

You seem to understand everything about me, in so many ways. When I see your replies, I giggle, and suddenly, my whole day is so much better. I want to know everything there is to know about you; I gather every little detail because it just makes me love you more.

I wonder all the time what you think of me. I wonder if I'm good enough for you, sometimes. I don't want you to know how I feel, because if you don't feel the same way, it'd be awkward, and I can't do that to you.

I wish waiting to see you again wouldn't be so long. I'm sad that you haven't said anything in nearly a month now. Every day, I feel tempted to shout "Where are you?!" on your wall. I wish my mom wasn't able to see everything I do.

And eventhough, I feel all these different things, I'm still unsure. Is this real or fake? Am I making the same mistake again? Is this just me being me, always wanting to believe the impossible? I don't know.

And who knows? It might be years and years, before I ever even see you again. If you don't know how I feel, and you don't feel that way, why would you wait? I wouldn't. So, maybe I should just bury how I feel, back inside me, again.

But, now I can feel the tears pricking my eyes. And I don't know why they're there, too.

I Won A Contest!

2008-04-12T11:01:00.002+08:00

AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! I'M SHRIEKING AND SQUEALING LIKE A MAD GIRL, OK. MY VOICE IS LIKE TWO OCTAVES HIGHER. I DON'T BELIEVE IT!

...seriously! This is the best thing that could happen to me, especially since yesterday was one of the worst days ever. I was going to blog on how sucky it was, last night. But, now I can blog on how things are looking up! :]

I thought I lost that contest (I mean, I never enter anything expecting to win-unless in my wildest dreams-and least of all this contest) because it's a spot-how-many-of-something-there-are-in-a-pic type one. And it's basically guessing-work.

My eyes aren't that adept at spotting tiny stuff, and I've done these type of contests and games before, so I know that more is always better. So, I counted every suspicious-looking thing (I was spotting for tiny, fake white ghosts) in the picture, and came up with 5.

And 5 was correct. I'M STILL IN SHOCK.

This is the link to the blog with the results, with my name right there listed as a winner:
http://k-popped.com/2008/04/shadows-in-palace-contest-results.html

Yeah, the blog is familiar, isn't it? It's the same one which blogged about the F.T. Island fiasco, two weeks ago. After I discovered them by searching with Google, I just visited it every day, hoping the concert would still be on, and one of those days, before they had posted news on the final fate of the concert (I stopped visiting once they posted that it was canceled without replacement), the front page had the blog post for the contest, so I thought 'What the heck, I'll try it for fun.'

I submitted, and forgot I ever entered it. It feels like eons have passed, but that was less than two weeks ago. Shows how slowly my life is passing by. Or how busy I am. Not sure which, though.

And then, I check my inbox today - there's an e-mail from Kpopped.

Like, I thought maybe they just e-mail everyone, telling them whether they've won or lost. So, most likely I'd lost, that's what I was thinking. But, then I realized that nobody ever e-mails a contestant when they've lost, because that's a waste of time (except for Neopets - I submitted a story for the Neopian Times, a few years back, and they politely sent me a rejection letter).

Only WINNERS get e-mailed.

So, I deleted the e-mails I didn't want to open, and then clicked... and saw the word WINNER and died (citing example: I freaked out as much as Bao did when she read my fic update last night? ._.).

I admit the prize isn't something I can fully appreciate, since I've only watched Jewel In The Palace, and know nothing about Shadow In The Palace, except that it's a ghost story (hence, the mini-ghosts in the picture). But, if it's like a spin-off of Jewel In The Palace, I completely don't mind! I loved that show when I was twelve.

I even cut out the leading role's actress' pictures from a Chinese newsletter (a girl in my class stole the page it was on from this other guy's copy and gave it to me) and stuck them in my 2004-2005 scrapbook album.

Anyways, I was really very down in the dumps until I opened that e-mail. And now I feel like maybe stuff can go right, and things won't go wrong anymore. At least, for awhile. Plus, I'm hoping those parcels I mailed to the Philippines yesterday don't get lost because my mom didn't register them.

I was really upset about that yesterday; not worrying so much anymore. One sentence: God is SO GOOD. <3

Brighter

2008-04-11T04:14:00.003+08:00

It's 4.30am. I can't believe I did it again. I keep telling myself I'll sleep really early tonight, and wake up really early tomorrow, like a normal person. I got distracted by writing a 7-page diary entry. I never knew writing in my diary for seven pages straight could take up to 2 hours.

For the first time in quite awhile, I feel like the dark clouds are lifting, and things are getting better, at last. I'm happy that people do care about me, and I'm happy that I finally know what to do with myself. I'm glad that I did something brave for once in my life.

I can see the end of this part of my life coming soon. Once these waters recede, and the storm passes, the rainbow will be there. I'm feeling very blessed right now, and it's like all the darkness of the past weeks didn't happen.

Jamestown Story's Goodbye I'm Sorry is a song about suicide, and yet, I like listening to it. Maybe because I've never heard a song which expresses so well how a suicidal person feels as this one does. I used to be like that, when I was twelve and thirteen.

I'd lock my bathroom door, and cry. And I'd be thinking exactly what this song's lyrics say. Everything is worthless, no one wants me to stay. So here's my goodbye, no one will cry over me, I'm not worth any tears.

Thank God, I don't feel that way anymore.

Wide Awake

2008-04-09T23:31:00.005+08:00

Wide Awake by Making April

My mistake, you should never be afraid to cut your losses

now I know, now I know

It was mine to make, I was putting up a fight for worthless causes

now I know, just to let it go

I was dying for our moment to arrive

now I'm running further just to feel alive

Chorus:

Don't wanna get caught up dreaming of your love

cause when I open my eyes there's not a shot in this life

I might as well give up and save all my good luck

for when I've when I've got the extra change

you can move aside cause now I'm wide awake

Calling out you don't even pick it up on nights and weekends

over and over

Talk about not giving up for all the wrongest reasons

over and over

How was I mislead for so much time?

when it's all been said and done I'll be alright

(Chorus)

But is it getting any better yet?

Is it getting any better yet?

Well is it getting any better yet?

The word is out that I'm not giving in

and if you're ready by now well it's too late to begin

Don't wanna get caught up

dreaming of your love

cause when I open my eyes

(Chorus)

This song brought tears to my eyes. The line which says 'Don't wanna get caught up dreaming of your love, cause when I open my eyes there's not a shot in this life' made me think clearly, and realize that it's true. I don't wanna wake up in the morning (or afternoon). I just want to keep on sleeping and dreaming.

But, it's also avoiding the reality of things. The fact that I have exams in a month, and should be studying, not procrastinating. And despite all my optimism and hope, it's still pretty plain obvious he doesn't like me as much as I do. Heck, maybe I'm just fooling myself into liking him so much.

It wouldn't be the first time.

I'm such a mess, aren't I? I feel so unstable all the time. I can't keep anything under control, and I feel like such a bad friend, sometimes. Not to mention, I haven't read my Bible in forever and I'm not praying anymore. Something's gone wrong and I don't know what.

'I might as well give up and save all my good luck for when I've got the extra change.'

...but when will I wake up?

Ink Exchange

2008-04-07T23:40:00.008+08:00

I am so pissed off at Borders. Why can't they organize and restock their YA section better?! The section for authors with last names beginning with letter B is nearly empty, and what books left there are folded and kind of squashed up-looking.

And I want several new books, all of which won't be arriving here anytime soon, despite their release date having passed. Oh, sure, I can definitely order it from Borders but it'll also make them an extra chunkload of cash, wouldn't it?!

Evil, conniving, ruthless business people. :(

This is the one book that I am wanting the most, right now... and won't get until who knows when:

Ink Exchange is the sequel (or companion book, as the author calls it) to Wicked Lovely, a book about fairies and a girl who's can see them and is being stalked by their king to become his bride. Well, it's actually more complicated than that.

See, there are three dominant forces at work here: The Summer King, The Winter Queen and The King of the Dark Court. The reigning Summer King has no power, in fact, because of a deal struck between the Winter Queen (his mother) and the King of the Dark Court, Irial. Apparently, his mother murdered his father, the former Summer King and bound all his power, so that winter would be prevalent and summer would disappear.

Or something like that.

So, to break the curse or deal or whatever, the Summer King has to find and marry the Summer Queen. Except that he's been looking for nine centuries and still hasn't found her.

Instead, for every girl he chooses, in the hopes that they may be the sought-after Summer Queen, the girl loses her mortality, becomes a fairy and has to choose between the safety of being another Summer Girl (basically, becoming part of the king's harem) or attempting to pick up the Winter Queen's staff.

If she is the Summer Queen, the deal will be broken and the king's power restored. If not, she becomes the Winter Girl, who can feel only icy coldness and loneliness, and has to warn and deter the next girl chosen from picking up the staff. But, only until another girl picks up the staff, whereby she either becomes the Summer Queen, or becomes the Winter Girl, will the current Winter Girl be released.

Ack, I think I gave away too much of the book, already.

Interested? Intrigued? Want to know more? Then, buy the book. And then, come and gripe with me as we wait for Ink Exchange to get here. I already read it's prologue (the author, Melissa Marr, posted it on her LJ blog) and I am now as impatient as I was last year, after finishing New Moon, and finding out Eclipse wouldn't be out for another 3-5 months.

You can also visit her author website here: http://www.melissa-marr.com/

Melissa Marr actually has an on-going art competition, and I've been tempted to submit something since September last year. Except I can never get around to doing it, and there always seems to be something more important to focus on... such as exams.

I should definitely sleep now, or do something else than type here. My days are melting away and soon, I'll be unprepared and out of time; somebody please shoot me now. And it's been two weeks since he last posted on my wall. Where is he?

Because I miss him. I miss the sudden surge of excitement I get, and the giggles I make whenever I read his replies. I need it now, more than ever.

Plain Jayne

2008-04-04T00:57:00.009+08:00

It's the first week of April, and I am so dead. Mainly because, next month, on the 15th of May, my O-Level exams are starting! And I have not finished studying the syllabus of any one of the four subjects I'm taking, yet. So, I will do what I do best, cram cram cram.

To make matters even more worse, I just discovered that there's this freaky genius girl about a year older than me or so, who's also really pretty (making me dislike her even more), who's taken her SPM already, and gotten 12As, and... I kid you not, PUBLISHED TWO BOOKS!

Now, she's applying to Ivy League colleges in the USA, and her blog has her talking about how easy the SATs for her are going to be.

Can you tell that I'm insanely jealous? Because truthfully, I am. And incredibly resentful too. :(

I can't do anything special, like that. I'm not good enough. Sure, I can go to as many lessons and classes I want to, but I'll never win competitions, or get recognized or anything. I'm just average. Maybe if I worked harder instead of spending all my time on this computer of mine.

As usual, I always get insecure about this stuff. I thought I was over it already, but looks like it can still get to me. And that is very bad. But I don't know how to make myself not feel it.

It's taken me so long to learn to not care about how I look; I don't know how long it'll take me to learn how not to care about not being able to be the best at something, or anything, for that matter.

No wonder when I was little, I used to cry every time I lost a game of musical chairs. I gained a reputation for being the cry-baby girl who couldn't take losing. Seriously though, I had to train myself to hold the tears in later, because I didn't want them to give me funny looks and say stuff about me.

I'm also terrible at handling criticism. Well, not now, anymore. But, last time, yes. I'd break down and call whatever it was I'd done horrible, and then chuck it into a furnace (figuratively, but it would get scrapped literally) and call myself a complete failure.

I'd end up giving myself a lot of self-pity, then (I didn't know it was a bad thing until later).

I suppose this competitive, perfectionist, strive-to-be-the-best part of myself is what compelled me to take language classes, piano classes, art classes, dance classes, ice-skating classes... because I wanted to stand out of the crowd. I wanted to be different.

But you can't really stand out or be different if you suck at what you do. That's right. I cannot ice-skate, or dance, or play the piano nicely, or get the intonation of Chinese tones right, or remember the sentence structure of Japanese. It took me a year to realize that the second layer in watercolor art is the shadow of the object.

*sigh* That's why I stopped most of it. I'd only be wasting my parents' money. I wish I could pay them back for all the wasted money they've spent on my foolish ambitions.

But strangely, saying all that I've said, just made me feel a whole lot better on the inside. Like, I don't have to carry it with me anymore. Actually, I've never written it all down before.

Which proves that Meg Cabot's advice on why you should keep a journal is correct! Evidently, it helps you solve your problems if you see it all down on paper.

Oh, and the F.T. Island concert was refunded. *throws cream pies at their dumb management in anger*

F.T. Island

2008-03-31T00:15:00.005+08:00

Today should have been really happy and fun and exciting, and a great way to end the month of March. And it wasn't.

Claire won a pair of tickets to go see F.T. Island's concert in Sunway Lagoon Amphitheatre, and she invited me. Of, course, it was actually like a dream come true, because I was daydreaming about how nice it'd be to go their concert after seeing their music video on MTV and having it flash in a red banner below about the concert.

And I was also thinking how impossible it'd be since I have no money and there's just no possible way I could go. And then, Claire tells me she's won tickets!

Like, one of the best miracles ever. :]

But, then... today, the day which should have been so much fun, was completely ruined thanks to a bunch of fussy managers and organisers, leaving the concert CANCELED.

http://k-popped.com/2008/03/cancellation-of-ft-island-concert-in.html

I cannot remember the last time I felt so unbelievably disappointed. And I rushed my parents to take me home from my grandparents' house so I wouldn't be late for nothing.

Gahhh, I'm still hoping it'll be replaced, instead of permanently canceled. It'd be such a waste if it wasn't.

Ok. Calm down. Let's think about other things, such as, Music & Lyrics.

I just saw it on HBO last night, and I really liked it. Hugh Grant may be kind of old, but he's still hot. And his eyes like turn downwards at the sides making him look a bit like a cute puppy. Plus, it was hilariously funny and the ending was so sweet. I guess I also just like the songwriting aspect.

But what I really liked was the songs, especially Way Back Into Love. Did you know it was written by Adam Schlesinger, the same guy who wrote Just The Girl? I didn't.

I managed to find a full version of it, sung by Drew Barrymore and Hugh Grant. There's another version which is sung with Haley Bennett instead, and it's a bit less acoustic than this one is.

I couldn't embed it (as usual), so you'll have to click here to listen. And I'm probably gonna go searching for it's sheet music now.

So, I know I haven't been updating my blog regularly at all, so I shall try my very best to blog more often from now on. :]

Stuff

2008-03-18T01:06:00.002+08:00

Since I did fall sick after my last post, and was sick for a pretty long time too... lots of stuff happened. Such as the Colbie Caillat showcase in the Curve. Which completely rocked and was so much fun (partly due to the heavy rain falling on us, actually. I thought that was cool. Only...it soaked everyone but mine's posters... so maybe it wasn't that cool.) despite the fact, I was on the verge of collapsing the whole time because of this weird pain in my chest. I think my clothes shrunk since they were wet and made it worse, but still. It was fun.

Colbie signed our CDs afterwards, and then later my mom got Claire and I some late-night McD. Wheee. And then, the next day when I woke up, Lee Yee messaged me that Click's coming back on June 7th... but in Genting?! I kind of freaked out at that. But, thank God, my mom didn't. So, I think I can go. But, Click is totally going to suck our money dry. Dry. It's in the Arena of Stars! And we have to get a hotel room to stay in too. Grrr.

Hopefully, we can get the point discount from Winnie's uncle's card on the VIP tickets, and stuff. Otherwise... *slitting throat motion*. Boo. This sucks.

And while I was sick, I had lots of time to think, and I think I have too much unnecessary stuff. So, I've started giving away the stuff I don't feel like keeping. Such as my old stuffed animals, parts of my keychain collection, books I've read but don't have space to keep them in...

Some of my other stuff is pretty much old junk. So those will be recycled or donated. I'll still have quite a bit of stuff left after, but it'll be the stuff I really wanna keep. Actually, I'm copying what the character in one of my books did. And she was an awesome character. (Plus, she ended up with the hot guy she liked in the end too...)

Ok. I'm also giving up stuff because I know I'll be moving soon, and I can't lug everything with me. My mom's gonna have to clear up the stuff in our house too (which is a big pile of mess, I tell you) before we move.

And I HATE math. It's so hard. I cannot Think Math, like the book tells me too. I can only think. The numbers make no sense. At all. And I feel like I'm not soaking up anything I read either. I am so screwed. Screwed. But hey, at least it gives me something to say on this blog. Normally, I'm at a loss for words here.

Oh, and Melissa, Winnie, Lee Yee and Claire were at Colbie, just to let you know. In my last post, I said that Melissa would be coming back for the term holidays, and she did! We went out on the Sunday before the Colbie showcase too, but I was still so sick then, and it was sadly very boring... besides walking around the Curve and Cineleisure, buying some magazines (which ripped Lee Yee off when it gave her only half of the promised poster...) and catching a cheerleading performance.

Vivien had her Mesopotamian birthday on Sunday, so I got her ready a lot of presents. Or stuff. And my friend, Vicky, invited me to her birthday party this Thursday, so I've wrapped her up a present with a card already. My terror cousin didn't have a birthday party this year, surprisingly. But, good riddance. It's tough finding her something since she's rich enough to buy everything.

Let's see... what else? Hmmm. I'm wondering how many more birthdays are coming up which will give me more opportunities to give away stuff. Oops. I did not just say that. Ahhh, well. My mom said I can give her all the books I don't want, because her friends are starting a library for poor people in the Philippines, and they need books, obviously.

Now, if I could only find uses for all the paper files and notebooks I have.

Sometimes, it amazes me at how much money I spent when I was younger... on stuff I didn't really need, but just because I wanted it. No more impulse spending for me. Not if I want to live to see the next concert coming my way.

The only stuff I'm not bothering to consider for giving away, would be my bag collection. You can never have enough bags. Right now, my favorite for using would be the yellow-orange tote bag with a brown elephant on it which my dad got me from wherever he last went overseas. That bag is really convenient for tossing stuff inside, and it looks better on my outfits than the bright green one does.

Pshhh. I talk too much. I should probably let everyone who reads this know that if they want any free books, these are some of the ones I'm giving away:

The Diary of Anne Frank by Anne Frank

Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden

Girl Overboard (S.A.S.S.) by Aimee Ferris

Pardon My French (S.A.S.S.) by Cathy Hapka

Angels and Demons by Dan Brown

Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment by James Patterson

If you're interested in any one of them, drop me a line. If nobody wants them, I'll most probably be donating them to my mom's library cause. So, yeah.

Strawberry

2008-03-02T19:47:00.003+08:00

The friggin' TC5 boards have been down for nearly 5 days now. I'm dying without them. All this extra free time I have now, is going to writing my fic... but I've written two chapters, already. I need to take a break or my brain will explode. Or implode. One of the two.

And since I can't write anymore... at least, not for awhile (my eyes were strained and my grammar suddenly started going off-balance)... I'm gonna have to study. Study. Which isn't all too bad.

Except that my history book is telling me about all the wars and communist countries in the 20th century that I think I'm going to be sick soon.

Oh, and all the bookstores here are crappy. I can't find The Sweet Farthing. And Winnie said that MPH had it, but it didn't. It lied. Dun-dun-dun.

Something random...I have original Japanese manga from Japan which I can't read. Sue me.

And Melissa might be coming back when the term holiday starts!

Spectator

2008-02-22T03:31:00.004+08:00

I feel left behind, sometimes. Everything's so different now, and I'm completely detached from all of it. I can only watch from the sidelines, and wonder about what could've been. I feel somewhat jealous, eventhough I wouldn't trade what I have now for that.

I've watched too much Project Runway. The colors of the fabrics tempt me.

Valentine's

2008-02-14T23:11:00.006+08:00

This day is more significant than it should be. One year ago, I told myself it was over. And this year, it is. I'm guarding my heart for someone else now. And he is just perfect. He's the dream I always wanted.

The one who made me smile when he asked if I was really sure about getting coconut juice for a drink. Who told me to try the star-apple. Who made me laugh when he showed me the barrel-man. Who makes me feel like a total child, sometimes.

Oh, my gosh. He's indescribable. I melt, I grin, I daydream at the thought of him. What makes it so sweet is that he actually knows who I am. What makes it like a fairytale is that we met as children and didn't remember it. Well, I don't. Now, I wish I did.

All I remember is being cold, sleepy and annoyed that McD wasn't serving anything other than the breakfast menu that early morning, 8 years ago. How I long to go back in time and relive the past. I was probably half-asleep; that's why I don't remember anything.

Really. God gives you the most unexpected blessings. I'm grateful that he was overseas in the USA, when I went back 2 years ago. I was a wreck, then. But, I'm not now. And he's back too.

Miracle of a chance,

If love was truly meant to be,

It's rightful course,

would take place...

...in the most heartbreaking ways.

- Jayne.

My heart is for you only, Carlos.

Have a sweet Valentine's everyone.

Philippines

2008-01-14T16:35:00.000+08:00

I'm paranoid over what clothes to pack. I keep thinking I'm going to need this tank top or that shirt for some weird reason, and I end up packing both. I feel like taking my entire closet with me. I think I've already overpacked in terms of blouses and tops; somehow I magically stuffed all my clothes into my tiny suitcase.

And I know I am gonna be 16 this year, but I can't resist packing a couple of stuff toys too. I used to bring all of them with me, but the number of stuff toys I have kind of multiplied over 8 years, so I have like 6 times the numberI brought with me when I was 8 to the Philippines. I used to OCD over them too, like arranging them by size, naming them, fixing their coats and ribbons, rotating turns of when I'm supposed to hug them every night of the week, and I'd go ballistic if I found out that I'd left one of them at home whenever we go on holiday. This is how lame I can be. :]

I'm also going paranoid over the airline losing my luggage. And come to think of it, maybe I shouldn't bring any stuff toys this time. It'd look weird if I was hugging them in my sleep. x]

You know, I still remember how cold the mornings in the hotels in Philippines can be. And I can't wait to meet Issa, Tin, Cami, Janella, and everyone else. And I'll be in Manila in time for the MCR concert... eventhough I don't like MCR. But if people I know are going, I'll take my chances and ask. They are cheaper than Click was, after all. But, I have to save up money for other concerts too. Which reminds me: I need to calculate my allowance for January. :D

Raspberry Elegance

This is my favorite photo of Winnie's for some reason. Click the link to see more!

Dreaming

2008-01-13T18:33:00.000+08:00

I finished Elsewhere last night, and here's what I can say : It was depressingly eye-opening. I would call it bittersweet, but well-worth the read. The part where the main character's adopted dog, Sadie, had to be returned to Earth made me cry. Same goes for when she herself left.

I guess it really stung me because of those times she talked with her younger brother through the Well, and I thought 'He's never going to see her again, and those will be the last things they'll ever say to each other.'

The entire plot basically shatters the illusion that you'll get to see your loved ones once again when you die, considering the re-incarnation factor. And that's what made me sad. :(

But, besides the depressing part, it was actually, kind of eye-opening. The main character (who's a teen) was shattered when she died, since it meant that she'd never get to experience any of the things she'd been looking forward to all her life.

I got hit with a blast of realization at that part. I spend most of my days, thinking that one day, my real life will start. You know, that things would essentially be perfect. But, of course, that's never going to happen.

And one day, I'd be old and still waiting for my real life to start. Or, like the character, I'd just be dead. So, I guess... that every day is my life. And, that's not a whole bad thing on it's own.

Which means I can stop dreaming, and start living. :]

Head Over Heels

2008-01-12T23:49:00.000+08:00

I'm having a momentary delusion of infatuation right now, so ignore me, please. And Anberlin's playing, how fitting. "Hi, Jayne." Somebody slap me. Is it bad that I was grinning pleasantly the whole time after I heard him say that? And gosh, his accent just melted me. I can't believe I'm this mushy over him. But, at least he notices me. And remembers me. I seriously commend him for that, since I'm such a wilting wallflower. I could also delight myself into thinking that maybe he stalks my Facebook when I'm not looking.

Honestly, since I came late for youth today, and youth ended too late for me to stay until snacktime, he was the only person who greeted me. I hope he saw me smile at him 'coz the band had just started playing, and it was too loud for me to say anything back. Plus, I shuffled my brother into the nearest seats, a second later, away from him. I wonder if he saw. :/

Oh, and Bus Company rocks. How awesome is it that they'll be playing permanently at youth from now on?

Sweets

2008-01-11T22:53:00.000+08:00

So, yeah. My mom managed to get me carbon paper this morning so I made it to art class, after all. Carbon paper is expensive stuff. At least, at Centrepoint's bookstore. And, ooh, lookie. I couldn't take it anymore, and bought 2 rolls of Mentos Sour Mix. There goes my plan to save money on buying useless, tasty things.

And I'm NOT going to Sri KDU. :[

But, I bought a very-nice, very-cling wrapped book at Borders today. :]

It's Kind of A Funny Story by Ned Vizzini

It sounded cool, on Teenreads.com and on the back summary. But I have to finish reading Elsewhere by Gabrielle Zevin first, which is just as cool. Thought-provoking. Oh, and in my search to find this cover on the net., I found out that there's a band called It's Kind of A Funny Story. Weird much. x]

Gahhh. I miss Vivien (and her weird slash tendencies). And 1337 as a language rules. Like, teenies won't understand us. What's better than that? Oh, I know. Telling them to go jump off a cliff.

There was this blonde ang-moh walking down the street outside the Curve this afternoon and my mom said she looked like Kyle. Eventhough, Kyle isn't a girl, and he has dark-brown hair. =.=

It's weird that I hadn't planned on blogging at all today, and this post is now a mile long. YAY. 4 more days before I jet-off to the Philippines. :]

Carbon Paper

2008-01-10T21:49:00.000+08:00

I needed carbon paper for my art class. Popular just had to be sold out. So, I can't go to art class tomorrow. And I'm really emo right now. I must be the dumbest person on the planet. I can't even understand simple maths... I can't find the stupid solution to the stupid percentage problem. Eventhough, the book's with me. It just won't come out the way the answer says. :(

To top that off, I missed Ben in the chat today AGAIN. And my parents are seriously harping me : Form 4 or 'O' Levels. I really,really wanna do BOTH. I know I can, but they don't think so. :/

If worst comes to worst, I might just end up back in Form 4 and seriously lagging behind everyone else. :(

If life ever goes back to being simple; I don't think it will.

What I Really Want

2008-01-09T22:23:00.000+08:00

Ok, yesterday my dad called and told me that Sri KDU called and asked if I wanted to enroll for Form 4. Which means they have a place open. I was really surprised, 'coz I'd ruled going to KDU out completely since the chance of them having an opening was slim. But now, it's like a miracle. At first, I thought my mom would object to it, since I'm supposed to be doing my O Levels and all, right. But, I told her and she was cool about it.

SO, I told my dad I wanted to enroll tonight. But then, he got sceptical. He told me I couldn't have both. Form 4 in KDU or homeschooling for O Levels. But, I don't wanna pick. I want both. Which means that I'm going to have to prove to him I can do this. I don't care how, I will get into Sri KDU. Seriously. I finally have a chance to experience private school. I'm not going to miss it.

And secretly, I've been wondering what it'd be like to take Arts stream and all. x]]]

Waz

2008-01-08T13:31:00.000+08:00

http://www.myspace.com/waz

His music is awesome. ILY, Bao, for introducing. :]

Typical

2008-01-07T19:34:00.000+08:00

Everytime I want to do something, I get the feeling I'm just repeating something someone else has already done. Like, when I write. I feel like I'm just plagiarizing another author's words. When I draw, it feels like I'm just gonna wind up copying someone else without realizing it.

Which makes me wonder if I'm not just a copy of someone or something meshed together from a bunch of other people. I feel like there's NOTHING unique about me. Whatever I like is always fleeting, and that makes it so hard to stick to something for a long time.

Alex Pettyfer

2008-01-06T23:55:00.000+08:00

Tell me that's not HOT.

Maximum Ride

2008-01-05T19:16:00.000+08:00

Yeah, that's what I'm reading now. It's supposed to be really good, and it is, but I guess I got surprised at the earlier parts when the elaboration was weak. And it keeps on surprising me too. Like, I thought the main characters would be 17 year olds NOT pre-teens and small children.

Just like, I thought Angel was the guy on the front cover. And I thought Max was a guy since, you know, Max is a guy's name, and the thing was written in her P.O.V. but didn't give any outright hints that she was a girl. I only realised it when it finally switched to a scene where two other characters were talking about her. And Angel is actually a 6 year old blonde. Confusing can. x[

So... it was when it mentioned Max having long hair did I realize she was the front cover girl. So, I practically freaked and squinted at the cover... it kinda looks like a girl, but not really. :/

Oh, and do you know why they call it Maximum Ride? -__-

Maximum Ride is Max. What sort of name is that?! And I thought I was past all the surprises. Gahhh. Oh, and I procrastinated my studying again. Wheeeeeeeee. x]

I just spent the whole afternoon ripping MySpace songs non-stop, thanks to Winnie and her awesomely-annoying recommendations. *pokes Winnie*

I miss Ellie! :(

We The Kings

2008-01-04T23:10:00.000+08:00

Omg. I love them! And I just downloaded the whole album from Winnie! YAY! :]

So, as it turns out... I didn't wake up; meaning I have to wake up tomorrow and study. Gahhhh, oh well. I should probably update my FF too. And I have to trace a whole new canvas for art class. x[

But, I'm finally done with my first acrylic on canvas (canvas sucks, weiyh...so much work getting the paint on)!

1917

2008-01-03T23:56:00.000+08:00

Yeah, I love history now. 69476496743639 times more interesting now since it's in English, and it's World History. :]

Less confusing than the mean temperatures in Geography too, and less stuff to work through than Biology. Oh... but I've been putting off Math, though. Talk about a waste of time. I could spend half an hour working on one problem, when I could be reading up other stuff. But, I have to. Boo. Mehhh... I'll do it tomorrow; if I wake up.

I've got art class in the afternoon, so yeah. Hgjksleritudncmf. I'm scared for my Art and English results. :( If I don't get A's, I'll die. This has to be the first time I've been worried over anything like this. 'Coz usually I'm a happy go-lucky bird with exams. XDDD

TRL

2008-01-02T23:47:00.000+08:00

Simple Plan on TRL!!!!!! ZONG. :]]]

I am so buying their next album in February. I practically teenie-ed when the hostess said 'simple plan', and like ran upstairs to tell everyone in the chat... and nobody listened. x[

I think it's 'coz I thought everyone already saw it, so I didn't exactly scream about it either. :\

Anyway... I just realized how watching MTV and [V] doesn't bore me as much as it used to. Seriously. I can't stand flipping to any other channel now, and if there's nothing that interesting on, I switch it off.

Oh, and I went into cleaning spree just now, and did the dishes, cleared the kitchen... tidied up the living room. x]

When you get me started, I don't stop. My mom had to tell me to stop washing the place-mats 'coz that'd make my hands dry out. DX

Study

2008-01-01T23:23:00.000+08:00

Tomorrow, I shall start my homeschooling-which means me, books and loud music. Yay! x]

I'm so excited that I'm actually sleeping early. Gah, I'll prove my mom wrong. I can wake up, and sleep early without any problem. And I studied my biology today for 3 whole hours! :]

It's freaky. My parents are always moving this way and that. One day, it's my dad who's all pissed. The next, it's my mom. Annoying much? Oh, and I found out that the concept of sensitivity can also equal to irritability. Cool.

From now on, the Mimosa pudica (touch-me-not) (yeah my book wrote that!) is irritable to touch. Let's all LOL, please.

Oh, and my dad keeps dumping all his old paper and files on my desk. :/

I Wanna Be Your Last First Kiss

2008-01-01T03:51:00.000+08:00

What the hell?! *cries*

I don't believe it. He remembered. He remembered. He remembered. I can't believe it. Why am I only finding this out now? He put the line I told him on Valentine's day into his blogger profile. I can't believe it. He actually remembered. He remembered me.

Ugly, dorky me. He remembered my words. Oh, gosh. I'm shaking so badly. I thought I was over this, already. Why do I have to cry everytime? *cries more*

Does it mean that he did care when I said that? I don't know. But, now... I have to tell myself that I can't have him all over again. That I have to keep waiting... 'coz he's not right for me. Even I know that.

I put myself through so much,
Denial and anxiety,
Cried unseen tears,
Relived what I couldn't have,
It's forgotten now.
- Jayne

New Year's Eve

2007-12-31T19:37:00.001+08:00

It's new year's eve!
2007 will be over in like 4 hours.

2007 was my metamorphosis year; I sprouted butterfly wings and grew out of being a caterpillar.
:]

I can't wait to see what 2008 holds for me, or rather what God's plans in 2008 have in store for me. x]

I'll be 16! Enough reason to love it.

Childhood was pure folly,
Swept away by the winds of time,
The lessons spoken of by adults,
Meant nothing then,
Until you'd learned them the hard way,
Did you see the logic of their words.
- Jayne.

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2008!

Fresh

2007-12-31T03:31:00.000+08:00

Yeah, I'm lame for starting a new blog for a new year. x]

*wipes old posts clean*