Registration day

I was so freaked out when I got my queue number.
0338.
And that meant that I still had about a hundred impatient undergraduates waiting for registration ahead of me. Thank God, I found a schoolmate whom I was on talking terms with to share that short span of loneliness, because the system seemed ironically speedy. 15 minutes on, I was pacing towards the exit. Thumbs up for the miraculously fast process, I’d say.

Plus, I freaked my colleague out by coming into the office with purple nails and my glasses missing. His exclamation made it sound like an unpardonable crime for me to ever don contact lens again. So I’m going to put it on again tomorrow. Muahaha…

Chalet 24/7 - 26/7 Part II

You'll never sleep alone... It took more than just plain effort to go wandering around Sentosa before the island took a nosedive into dusk. And it was a stark contrast from the previous night, probably because we came out of hibernation much earlier on the second evening.

The initial idea to catch ‘Songs of the Sea’ was culled due to our tight budgets, but we still had a glimpse of what it was like. Nothing fantastic, seriously.
The trip to 7-Eleven was boycotted by the collective fact that we were simply too exhausted to register proper images in our heads, and also because the bike kiosk decided to shut their doors in our faces at 6.30pm. Oh boy, how fruitful.

Chalet 24/7 - 26/7 Part I

The tranquility of isolation Time flies whenever 1. You’re having fun or 2. You’re terribly pissed having to swat under your legs ever now and then to chase away feeding mozzies, get all freaked out by marauding lizards stalking you in the bathroom, fuss over those ants holidaying on your morning cup of coffee and get all piffed with the choked toilet basin.
How about a game of Monopoly? We had fun trying to perk ourselves up with a round of Monopoly, but we ended up driving our sleepy wits nuts trying to stay awake and ‘Out of Jail’ at the same time. Our next option was to set up our pit, since the sky looked much less constipated than it was when we arrived. Food, glorious food! I don’t understand how those people conjure up so much smoke with theirs, but our BBQ pit was obedient enough to survive the slight drizzle. The cheese prawns were mush tastier than they were the previous time round, the corn cob was fantastically buttery, the chili stingray was heavenly, as well as the other stuff we had. The native Chinese family besides ours had NO idea how yummy our food was, because they were grilling what looked like Chinese buns (which were supposed to be steamed, by the way) and other ‘un-grillable’ food. Bleah. And we still had unfinished food. Our next destination... Sentosa’s nightlife after 12am is unexpectedly boring. Even the beach bars and clubs had but just a handful of dolls and gigolos (those people looked as such to me, no offence). The lightings were alluring, but then again, they seemed mundane on the second look. We strolled past The Coffee Bean, and I was silently aching for a cuppa or two; I didn’t get my full dose of caffeine that day.
The walks of nightlife on Sentosa The pit-stop at 7-Eleven seemed timely and un-timely at the same time, because it made me comfortable but alarmingly sleepy. One Slurpee shared among the 4 of us, we managed to inject a notable level of noise pollution to the empty 24-hour kiosk at Palawan Beach.

Midnight sugar rush Again, my eyelids are drooping, so very silently yet disturbingly, like how they did that very night, in front of the mini water fountain. Ying had already mastered the art of sleeping as and when she deemed fit, and while the other 2 ladies have decided to mortify themselves by staring into black nothingness.
More photos, in the next entry.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Page 202... And counting.

Still in a desperate bid to keep my eyelids propped up to continue with the book, I'm resting my brain a little. The fresh contents keep flooding into my head momentarily, flitting in and out in frames, replaying scenes from the first few chapters. It has been a wait since the last book, and I still can't believe I actually bought it; I didn't buy any of the previous 6 books at all. But the release date was promptly set right after the fifth movie's debut, so it kinda cashed in on the sales.

The angst was evidently stronger, from the way Harry thinks and executes his feelings; he isn't afraid to voice out, although he still thinks that keeping some stuff untold would be a much safer option, lest his companions betray him. I'm particularly captivated by the way Rowling made death and suffering of the characters seem so natural, as though it had been a definite event.
So I'm barring my room door tonight, and anyone who dares to talk me out of reading the book will get a wand up the right nostril.

I will last the distance

Monday always carries a hunch for something bad, and it never fails to happen. It’s so bad that it makes everything seem at their worst. I can’t even make myself trust myself; it’s such a sweet irony, because I’ve been telling almost everyone to love themselves and trust their own instincts when I can’t even say the same for myself at this point of time. I start to doubt anything and everything, from the way I dress to the sarcasm-laden words from an unexpected party, and even the door never seems to close the way it used to.
Just because it’s Monday.
Just because I haven’t had breakfast.
And I probably won’t have lunch as well.

Had a lengthy session over MSN yesterday night over some “affairs of the heart”. I know things seldom turn out the way I wish, so I’m just indulging, as advised by a close friend. Hopefully this friendship will last the toil of time and distance.Hopefully.

When all else fails, go hungry

The sadistic pleasure I derive from keeping my stomach empty is starting to overwhelm me so much that I’m doing that just to please myself. I’m not trying to starve myself; I’m just using the emptiness to inject some reality into my life. Not eating only fuels my anticipation for dinner and the end of the day. My perspective has changed; a hungry person like me is never an angry person. It’s a person who’s even more driven to surpass others on an empty stomach. I’m currently cultivating this habit to curb my reliance on others, as well as to knock some realism into me. Life isn’t a bed of roses; you can’t always have a cake, not to mention eat it.

Perhaps I’ll just deviate a little here. You know how it feels like to have someone let you down over and over again. I should learn to grow accustomed to such situations, since they’re befalling me repeatedly, monotonously and it always happen with the same person. I’m over with being fed up; I’ll learn to trust no one else but myself, since I’m the only person who will never let myself down over and over again.
And over and over again.
Not even my empty stomach.

These imprints

I’m reluctant to coerce myself into accepting the fact that someone I’ve been working with for the past 3 months has left for greener pastures. Acquaintance and parting is all part of life, but adaptation is still too raw and painful to attempt. The kin-like relationship we shared, the umpteen times I upset you with the hurtful but mindless words from my mouth, the times you burst into the office with your megawatt smile and mawkish addressing, the pride you took in your work… Perhaps I will never be able to adjust to those empty holes in my life, not just after this episode, but also after I leave for school. I don’t want to think about it. I never want to severe all ties with all the people I’ve worked with for the past 6 months, simply because they taught me so much more about life than what all my teachers have imparted to me all these years. All your words will be forever etched my mind, and all your faces will become part of a special page in my life. Being unable to forget becomes a blessing, especially when you all have made such a huge impact to my life. I may be barely 19, but my path of maturing just became more colourful with you all. I feel truly blessed.

I think I’ll start to cry if I continue.

When that melody plays, I know it's you

I kept opening and minimizing the MS Word window; I’ve got too much in mind to jot down, but I don’t know where to start. Writer’s block is definitely sweet misery at this point of time, because I never want these beautiful memories and thoughts to just escape through the tips of my fingers and dissipate into thin air the moment I hit the ‘Enter’ key. I’ll just keep it to myself and bookmark it under Life’s sweet encounters”.

My beloved Yamaha finally returned back to my side, with a shiny, new gold-plated machinehead to boast about. He’s just as handsome, and he’s playing some really beautiful notes with those obscenely expensive new strings (NX! Why in the world did you buy such expensive strings?). All the credit goes to NX, who single-handedly brought my guitar down to the obscured Yamaha technical centre at hiding at a corner of Paya Lebar, ordered those beautiful replacements, cabbed down after school to collect them and replaced them. *Hugs* I sure owe you more than just Mac D’s.

Ping power

My collection of little breath mint cases is growing healthily, with me adding one to my working desk every week and using my job scope as an excuse to acquire more and more of these cute little things. I could recycle them as accessory boxes once I’m done with the candy inside, but in the meanwhile they’ll be sitting prettily on my desk to mark my territory. After all, someone else will be coming in to fill my position once I’m off to school. Unleashing flower power on my working area is timely.

I couldn’t clock 5 hours playing Sims 2; I was hanging on the hinge by the time I hit the fourth hour. Deprived of quality rest and relaxation, I continued to torture myself by gaming until 1 in the morning before my mum came out of her 2-hour long bath and decided that what I was doing was rather unhealthy. I guess my brains burnt out before my adaptor could. But it was a truly heavenly experience to game on my laptop; the graphics were second to none. I felt so cheated to have played Sims 2 on my home PC for 3 years and tolerated all the chipped graphics, lagging game time, inaudible Simlish and all the uncountable times it hung. I ain’t a pro gamer; I’m an avid one. Jack of all trades, master of none. I just haven’t got the financial ability to satiate my ambitious dream to conquer all types of gaming platforms, or else I would be cooped up at home all day, hooked to my PC or some video game. Terribly unhealthy hobby which will never lace with my persona.

Grossly engrossed

I’m finally coercing myself to start cultivating my withering reading habit, since I figured out that being literarily apathetic in Arts would definitely be a bane. But I’m currently starting with some simple fiction and some of my favourite authors, before progressing to other genres of literature; you can’t expect me to start with Hamlet and rattle off lines of Shakespeare at this point. I’m totally gearing up for school! Man, this girl’s mad.

It's all a facade

Maybe I shouldn't even have bothered to ask, since I anticipated such response from the start. But for the sake of upholding a withering spirit which never was quite there, the dates were changed not once but twice, the same old people were begged repeatedly...

Perhaps I wasn't even looked upon as a leader, and only a puppet in your condescending hands of play. I'm constantly manipulated by your false words, your cruel interpretations, your ruthless finger-pointing, your "harmless" bullying... I didn't appreciate having my stuff vandalised. I didn't appreciate the malignant laughter. I didn't even like your attitudes one bit. You were just like some holy shit which people worshipped and willingly let themselves fall into your pile of shit. You're such a big loser in my eyes.

Please, people.Stop trying to sound so over-zealous over things, only to fold your arms and take on the role of a by-stander. I'm irked by your "rather-stay-home-and-rot" attitude. I shouldn't have agreed to start all this crap in the first place.

What a bitch and nosey parker I was. All those outings and planning were just a huge pacifier to humiliate me.