30.6.08

My Manic and I


I'm so amused by something right now, but I can't really say what it is because I've been sworn to secrecy. It just involves a male teacher who's single and quite unattractive. And lots of lingerie. Ugh. But hilariously funny, really. Can you connect the dots?

I haven't laughed this much in ages. Oh, who am I trying to kid? I laugh hysterically everyday, most of the time for no reason at all. Actually sometimes I just remember things that happened and I burst out laughing at the memory. Of course no one knows this so they think I'm just cackling at nothing as usual. Who cares. Laughing is good. I'd rather be known as the girl who laughs too much than the girl who emos too much (sorry A!).

Sitting here listening to my brother blasting The Strokes on his iBook and having my dog asleep on my feet, I'm quite content. Did you know that when I went to class today, there were gasps of shock at me being so covered up. Apparently I usually show a little more skin, which is news to me. Since most of my daily outfits include a long cardigan and a more or less decent blouse (read: no boobage, mainly because I've got a more or less flat chest, which is good cause low cut things look decent on me). I've never had my bra or midriff showing either. I actually thought I was showing more skin today, silly me.

Umm yeah, can you tell that I'm feeling much better now? The downside is that I'm hungry all the time and can't seem to get enough food. Sigh. I'm dreading the days when my metabolism isn't able to cope and leaves me overweight and depressed. Fingers crossed, fingers crossed. After every meal, I thank my father for his genes which enable me to eat like the pig I am without really putting on weight. Fingers crossed, fingers crossed.

God, now all I can think about is peanut butter on whole wheat crackers, potato chips and the best udon ever. Somebody needs to slap me, quick!

To The Lake of Stars


V passed this on to me, and told me to think about this before answering.

Life theme song: My whole life is a medley, I could never choose.
Life theme book: Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli
Life theme movie: Before Sunrise
Life role model: I've not met this person yet.
Life theme quote: - (I've got too many!)

As you can see, I'm not exactly good at this kind of thing. I'm blunt, indecisive and horrible with words.

My greatest passions at the moment are children's books and good music. They are the best way to spend long hours pretending that you never grow up. I'm going to hold on to my childhood with all ten fingers and my last breath. Watch me.

26.6.08

Morning Bequest


Today in class, I tried to concentrate on atoms and blood types but my head was spinning and my fingers gripped a flying pen so tightly I thought it would break. Your name spun itself on leaf green paper, over and over again. The ink was my blood, I lost a pint just tracing the same lines until my eyes glazed over.

You've become a blur of feelings, all mine, wrapped around you like your arms around me. Once. Yes I am that obvious, everyone sees this but you. Yes I am hurt, yes you hurt me, yes I am still that person whose heart you slowly but surely cut open with each and every word that came out of your mouth.

I can try to close my eyes and block out your face, but we both know that's never worked. You watch me from quiet corners, and you smile to yourself. It's always something I say, something you do. This never ending medley of pretense and self defense has to stop. It has to.

Drape your promises over someone else. Weave your lies the way you want. Nothing matters any more.

22.6.08

This Is Twice Now


Shopping is therapeutic. I've combined this with a daily dose of BB (who's back, I am happy again) and comfort food. Of course eating more means that I'm a bit unhappy with how I look in the dressing room, but it also prevents me from buying things that I'll not wear after a good meal with friends. Yes!

Do you know that it's really really hard to give up caring for someone, no matter how much hurt they've heaped upon you? Sometimes I have to slap myself when I catch a glimpse of their face in a long forgotten photograph from happier times, or hear a whisper of melodies that we once sang together. There's this knee jerk instinct of mine to flee every time I am confronted, and I'm trying to stop. I want to show everyone that I am not as fragile as I look. I am not.

But it's not easy to forget how my arm looked in the crook of yours or the way your smile lit up your face (and mine), when you're always there by my side. Still holding my hand, still making me laugh. I'm not getting the distance I need and I'm standing where I first started.

If you let me go, I promise to come back someday. You've already moved on, so give me my turn. I truly believe, we must grow apart if we are to remain close. Let me go, please.

17.6.08

Clown Clouds


What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.

I wore blue silk laced through with black and white. You still had on those too clean shoes and the shirt that was almost appropriate, but not quite. We were perfect.

Too bad no one else thought so.

I don't know if this was mentioned, but I had to play the keyboard at some graduation ceremony for seniors I didn't even like. Or know, but is there a difference? Thankfully, I only nearly blacked out once, when I realized I'd misplaced the song sheet and had to rely on memory (really? is that what you call it?). Obviously it went well, or else I wouldn't be here typing this, but drowning my sorrows in absinthe and raw sugar. Not really, but you understand.

And my amazing ninja like skills were put to good use when I crept through the darkened hall after I was done, then fell over a speaker. I'm claiming temporary blindness because the idiots who were manning the lights shot neon beams into my eyes as I tiptoed past the dance floor. But of course, I wasn't hurt, thanks to my incredible ability to maintain my balance and poise. And inability to shut up, said the hundred witnesses around me who heard a piercing screech followed by a muffled 'i'm ok, go away now'.

God, with the amount of emoing I've been doing for the past month, it's as if I've been transformed into some Christlike saviour of teenagers everywhere, bearing the weight of all angsty and negative feelings around the world. You can all stop being upset now, I was just kidding. There's some apathy thrown into that mix too.

It must be idiot season, because they've been popping up like my relatives after a funeral. Literally. Of course, most of my relatives are dumb asses, but whose aren't? Anyways, I'd like to know who on earth deems snapping fingers as a pick up signal. Because I must have missed the memo that said 'if a person snaps his/her fingers in your face, then flashes you (in their opinion) cheeky grins, promptly swoon and fall madly in love with them or at least give them your number'. If I'm going to be hit on by ugly/stupid/weird people, they should at least make an effort to say something instead of expecting me to be impressed by their "talents" involving various appendages of the body. Perhaps I should be glad that I've only been relegated to finger gestures.

My clock and my father's increasingly agitated voice are informing me that it is way past my bedtime and that I must go to sleep now if I ever expect to wake up in time for college. I really wish that classes would be canceled. Forever.

Yes, I'm not enjoying college as much as I used to. I should've known, my luck never ever lasts in the long run. Shall try to wake up with a smile on my face in the morning. Am off to paste sticky note reminders on my mirror. Bye.

15.6.08

Rendition of A Perfect Melody Destined For Uncertainty and Grief


You're an idiot, you know that?

Talking about how beautiful she is, then turning around to see my reaction when you know I don't bloody care anymore. Hot, you said. She's hot. I know, I smiled. She is. You didn't have anything to say all of a sudden. Why?

Why are you on the floor? Are you alright? Your questions are endless, your mouth unbuttoned. Shut up. Where I sit and/or faint is none of your concern. Don't think I didn't see you watching me from across the room, while I pretended not to notice. You smiled when I did, but you weren't my reason. We're so stupid and predictable that way, so why are we back where we started?

I'm an idiot too, that's why. Because only a person with no mind would choose someone like you. And I did. I really do think I deserve better.

But so do you.

I'm sorry.

1.6.08

Where Do You Go To (My Lovely)


I breathe recycled air, your lungs expelled that which fill mine. Your thoughts are an endless cycle, mine a broken chain. The matching pale cheeks and sugar glass smiles (always fake) on our faces say it all. There is a wall of pretense, there are bricks of unfamiliarity. Cemented in place by lingering doubt, why?

My chest constricts as yours rises and falls, we share a sudden glance. Mirrored apprehension clouds the space between us. Your move first, no yours. A hand twitches, corners of mouths slant. My move? Should I? No. The windows are not fogged, but the air is thick. With silent waiting comes the ability to predict and avert. Your attempts to entwine my fingers with yours, my efforts to give you a genuine smile. All brushed aside.

But somehow, I am tired and unguarded. Your presence is all too tempting, I cannot look away. Your hand closes around mine.

And I find myself unable to breathe.