it's still only tuesday. how am i going to last the rest of the week the month the year the century? how am i going to last the rest of my life?

i feel like running off somewhere far far away from the rest of civilisation. i can't - or maybe it's just don't want to - face people anymore. i'm sick of people telling me what i'm doing wrong or what i'm doing right. i'm sick of people telling me i've changed whether for better or for worse. i honestly don't give much of a damn anymore. i'm way too busy catering to the idiots above me to care much about integrity or social responsibility anymore. not that i want to do it but it's not my fault they're my superiors and if i don't give in to them i won't live to see the next sunrise. if i had my choice i wouldn't do it either. so that's why i think running away is a good idea. i don't care if it's unethical, immature, cowardly, blah blah blah... i don't care if i'm labelled an escapist or a loser who can't face up to reality. i don't care, because it's all true anyways. fuck those people who label me it's not like they're perfect themselves. and besides who are they that i should be bothered what they think of me. i don't care anymore if i'm portraying myself as a stupid childish selfish brainless bitch or whatever. i don't care. i don't even know who or what i am anymore, anyway. so i can't choose what i want people to see me as, cos i don't even know it myself. so at the next available chance i'm going to run off somewhere far away and live in a little secluded corner all by myself and not give a damn about anyone or anything around me.

ah fuck, i might as well just die. i'll never be able to escape the system. i'll never be able to escape ANY of the systems. fuck. i shan't bother going into the detail it's quite plain for anyone to see who has brains and who can be bothered to use them. i don't care what people think i just wish they'd use the right vocabulary and discern between the voice of a stupid brainless little child and that of a cynical jaded disillusioned idealist. but what the fuck. maybe i am what they all say after all. maybe i'm just denying the truth. maybe i'm the only one who really and truly believes i am whatever i think i am. what does it matter anymore anyway?

i have just the answer to my last question in the first paragraph. "how am i going to last the rest of my life?" - easy; don't. i don't have to. who says i have to? who's making me do it? nobody. only myself, all scared of pain and death and heaven and hell. only myself, bound by social ties to the people i'm afraid to leave. only myself, filled with pride and imagining that others won't be able to live with me gone. and all these are just illusions i've created to convince myself it's not worth it after all. but maybe just maybe it won't be that bad. i'll never know till i've tried now will i?

fuck the world. i need to sleep. and it won't altogether be a bad thing if i don't wake up, of that i am convinced.

i should really be doing my work right now, but.....

all i have to say at this juncture is fuck the system. fuck the system and all the nimrods who enforce it. i am honestly sick and tired of having to cater to irresponsible, disinterested individuals who care only for themselves and refuse to take responsibility for their own stupid screwups. and the fact that it's come to the point where those above heap the blame for their own fuck ups on the poor people who are below just goes to show how crazy everything is. i'll admit that right now i'm feeling extremely bitter towards a certain individual who more or less represents the whole (apologies to the few normal ones, it's probably not your fault you're stuck with them and i'm grateful for your normalcy) but this time i will say that i believe my resentment is more than justified. furthermore, it's not asif they themselves are so organised and perfect - i can instantly think of at least two examples that prove me absolutely right.

what the hell. no amount of ranting is going to change anything. fuck the system and all the bastards in it. well, too bad, i'm not going to give in to them any longer. i've done what i can and i'll do as much more as time permits; but at one o'clock, that's it. i'm not going to hang around and beg for mercy at their feet. they can fail me for all i care, there are better things in life than straight As. and in this case, it's sushi and the most wonderful sister ever... not in that order of course :p

i must admit - without the intent to offend - that there's some attraction to all those cutsie things that people do. i don't know how to explain it; i guess it's stuff like sheryl used to do - cutsie little-girl sort of things; cliques and pixel images and pretty pastel sites, girly clubs and pretty pictures and makeup and assortments of cute attachments to handphones or wallets or bags, new revolutionary styles and trends, the list goes on and on. for a while now i've been toying with the idea that my disdain for these people is in fact a manifestation of my jealousy at being unable to achieve what they've got. think of it this way: deep down in me i harbour a secret desire to be accepted by them, to join their elitist world and to be beautiful and stylish and trend-setting just like them. deep down i really want to be at the top of the social hierarchy, to hold in my hands the power to make people feel unworthy, uncool, unaccepted. and because i know i can never belong to that group - not only because it is out of line with my character, but more than that, because i'm lacking what they have and what i require to be like them: physical beauty and a certain coolness and confidence - i decide to turn against them. because i know i'll never be able to even start having what they've got, i decide to denounce them and their behaviour. do you see what i'm saying? (and, mr anonymousnoises, this is why i made that comment on your blog - because it's something i feel myself and i know it's excruciatingly painful to own up to - but it's also somewhat essential in the search for Self.)

it isn't easy fooling yourself. you can only pretend for so long. despite my desperate (unconscious) attempts to stifle it, i'm becoming increasingly aware of - and ashamed by - the fact that i don't like the way i'm living. for some time now i've been fooling myself, whispering soft soothing nothings to myself, saying it's okay to be this way because i'm right and everyone else is wrong. but you can't hide forever from the truth. i'm beginning to detest my own denial and the fact that i'm not only living a lie - i am the lie. i'm realising the possibility that this anger i've directed towards others isn't at the fact that they're stupid or don't know how to live: it's at myself for not being able to do what they've done; for not being able to fulfill my duty on this earth and to be happy. but then, after all this, there's that nagging question at the back of my mind: do i really want to do that in the first place? do i sincerely want to live like them, at the mercy of society, at the mercy of authority? and the answer is a resounding "no." but it seems the only way to gain acceptance on this earth; the only way to be labelled "effective" in our civilised human context. and, predictably, all this just spirals back down to this anger towards myself for even wanting to be accepted and labelled by the people of this generation.

i'm so confused. in trying to find out what i really want, what i'm really like, i've been led helplessly round and round and at the end of it still nothing. or, should i say, at the end of it i'm only worse-off than before: i've become so cynical, so angry... i feel there's something wrong with the way we're living today, but when i try to figure out what it is i come back to myself. i've been proven time and time again that the problem lies within me; that it's the flaws in my own nature that have led me into the darkness of this endless maze in the first place. in the place of the answers i hoped to find are questions and more questions, and the absurdity of it all is making me crazy. i suppose i'm angry with myself for not being able to leave well enough alone - but then there's the whole issue of whether "well enough" was really well enough for me in the first place. (evidently not, for if it was, i wouldn't have embarked on this journey to begin with.) i guess i'm angry because in my search for my ideal world, i have not only been forced to realise that there is no ideal world; i've also been made to see that by simply existing, i am left with no other choice but to confront this monster they call "reality." it's something i'm having trouble accepting. and i feel worse when i look around at my peers and find - much to my surprise - that just about everyone else has got it all down pat: the very people i criticise(d) for being ignorant or immature are in fact above me in the grand scheme of things. they don't live in constant turmoil wondering about the purpose of their existence or the infallibility of their own character; they seem to have it all worked out and no questions that reality has to hurl at them can set them off the track they've embarked upon and are intent to finish.

but i guess that's part of my problem. do i even want to be on that track to begin with? maybe if i did, i'd be like them - happily trudging along (i made an oxymoron! haha), submitting to the daily grind, having all the right answers in my back pocket in case reality sneaks up to me and tries to pull me over or spin me around. maybe if i was willing to take the road they're taking, i wouldn't need to figure it all out on my own - i'd be able to walk away from the starting line with a box of answers pre-formulated by Those Who Have Gone Before Me. maybe that's my problem: i'm not willing to be like Them. and maybe that's my undoing, and i'm simply paying the price of not having the tried-and-tested answers of the millions ahead of me. maybe i don't have that privilege simply as a result of my choice to take The Less Traveled Path. maybe i have to wrestle with the weeds simply because i've chosen to walk a different way; the path which few feet have trod and which, because of that, hasn't been worn smooth. maybe i'm just one of the Pioneers.

and yet, when i think about it, that just can't be. if i take that stand i'm simply going back to the premise that I Am Better Than Them and that negates my whole line of argument. i'm not better than them; i mustn't view myself as a martyr because i'm not doing anything that's contributing towards The Good Of Mankind. i'm simply being selfish and self-centred; not giving a flying fuck (to use the term that judy blume so cleverly coined in summer sisters) for anyone but myself. so that can't be the reason. it can't be that i'm in this position because i'm doing something revolutionary but good. so what can it be? i rack my brains but find myself unable to come up with an answer. and so the only conclusion i can draw is that the problem lies with me; that i am the loser after all. how can it be otherwise? think about it carefully. i'm taking a path that's different from the rest, but my choice has in no way benefitted - and will in no way benefit - anybody or even anything. at the same time, because of this (poor) choice that i've made, i'm plagued with questions and worries about the past, the present, the future, myself, and others. furthermore, instead of owning up to the dreadful mistake that i've made, i keep justifying and justifying and justifying and justifying. i say it's all right for me to be this way (lousy as compared to my would-be counterparts if i'd chosen to take the same way) because i'm doing something that's different and good. but i'm not! i'm not! and yet i simply keep denying it all and weaving for myself alone this web of confusion and lies. worst of all, nobody is deceived by this trap but myself. and i fall deeper and deeper into it. what else is there to say? at the end of the day, no matter how i try to justify it, i'm still the loser. no two ways about it here; i simply cannot win.

it's painful to accept all this, and at the end of it all, i still refuse to do so. i still choose to persist in my ways, thinking all the while that there must be some way out of this; i must be right in some way. instead of seeing my mistake, i continue to deceive myself, to think that there must be some benefit i can gain out of this. how stupid can a person get? and still i refuse to see.

other than toiling for four hours on my fieldwork (and feeling bitterly let down because after all that i've still achieved close to nothing), i've spent the better part of today reading (and just about completing) daniel quinn's ishmael. i disagree with all the evolutionary stuff, but otherwise it's an intruiging discourse on The Downfall That Is Human Civilisation. i have about thirty pages of the book left and i am eager to finish it; however, i must say that it's somewhat draining to read in a day. it takes much concentration to follow ishmael's line of argument, and it's somewhat disturbing in that ishmael actually succeeds - partially if not entirely - in ripping off the wool that "Mother Culture" has pulled over our eyes thus far. part of me wants to believe there is hope; the other part says "don't be stupid." but i guess ishmael would admonish me, saying "that's just Mother Culture speaking." it's not a fantastic novel in that it isn't entirely unquestionable - then again, which novel is? on the other hand, it's amazing the way quinn has been able to step back and formulate this entirely logical thesis as to why we are in the state that we are today. not trying to make this into a book review, i guess; after all, who am i that anyone should trust my judgment? nevertheless i am determined to finish up the book tonight, and following that, to find - and of course read - the story of b and my ishmael.

oh, just a little sidetrack here: it disturbs me greatly that tymon should be able to see what books i've been reading and to know what's on my mind. i will openly confess that i am somewhat jealous of him - he's always been the smart one, the one with all the brains. worse still, he knows it. i guess i don't want him reading, at the age of fourteen, what i'm only discovering at close to nineteen. it's often painful, in a strange way, that he should be teaching me about various things, from computers to library procedures to technical drawing. he's been a great help, that i won't deny. but he's also a daily reminder that no matter how many years older than him i am, he is still superior to me. and that hurts. in a way i'm resentful that he should be better off than me in terms of knowledge, intellect, skills, and even looks... more than that, it hurts that mom and dad should - albeit unconsciously - lord that over me. it only serves to emphasise my imperfection; and, for a perfectionist like me, that's just about the worst thing anyone could do. sigh.

oh well. back to where i was before - i don't see why this can't be an excuse for me not doing my homework. nobody can say that reading ishmael - and, indeed, reading all the books i've read over the past two or three weeks - hasn't increased my knowledge; nobody can say that writing long meaningful "discussive" blogs like this hasn't helped (if not hastened) my mental and emotional development. if education can be described as "an informative experience" (encarta world english dictionary: education [4]), then surely reading and writing would be part of that experience too? but nobody seems to understand that. ignore the fact that this might be my way of justifying my procrastination or the fact that i am behind in my work - that is besides the point. what i am trying to say is that it has taken me no less time and effort to read and write about new ideas than it takes or has taken for me to do the various homeworks assigned to me in that insitution they call school (but which might be better off labelled a prison of sorts). "well," they tell me, "this is different. you've got to be proactive in your own search for knowledge. and school is your first priority because that's where your main flux of ideas comes from." well, sure, i agree with that first bit - i do have to take control of my own learning, because it's for the good of none other than myself. don't they see, they're contradicting themselves. it's precisely because i want to take charge of my own quest for knowledge that i'm not doing what they ask me to do. i don't see how what they're telling me is more important than what i'm learning on my own. hell, i'd much rather read about philosophical analysis than present a silly oral on a flower or a bird. if they're being our advocates, as they claim, why don't they give us credit for what we do outside of school work and time? after all, isn't that perhaps a better indication of our intellect and maybe even our character? okay, so being submissive and handing in work on time and all the rest does show a willingness to learn and be taught and be responsible. but does not participating in the above necessarily mean the opposite? at my age and level, i tend to disagree. granted, in certain cases it does indicate rebellion or laziness. but on a different level, it just shows the individual's preference. for example - and, again, not as an excuse - in my case. have the five hours or more that i've taken today to read about philosophical analysis as well as how to save our planet, and to write this over-two-thousand word discourse been any more wasted than if i'd used them to, say, write my third draft, or work on that portfolio? not in the least. in fact, i like to think (although i admit that mine is a biased point of view) that all that time has been used more wisely, because the things i've spent them on mean so much more to me than the things i should have spent them on.

okay, granted, this "phenomenon" (for want of a better word) is, if nothing else, clear proof of my irresponsibility as a student. i ought to fail and be expelled for the simple reason that i have not followed the path that The Powers That Be have wanted me to take. but what does that prove? even irresponsibility has its causes, and mine would be that i'm plain disinterested in what is being taught. i have other ideas. so what? i'll just join the school of einstein and all the rest. well, okay - i'm starting off on that "i'm better than the rest of the world and thus exempt from what they're subject to" tangent again, so i'd better stop. i'm getting way too confused here >:(

a few final points: first, i think one of the biggest blows i'm experiencing right now stems from the fact that i'm one heck of a perfectionist, and the fact that i can't achieve perfection in my life - the very fact that i myself can't be perfect - is more than disturbing to me. that's also probably the driving force behind my asking all these questions. it's all part of my quest for perfection. it's hard for a person like me to realise that perfection is impossible in this screwed up world >:( second, i guess the one good that comes out of all this criticism and analysis and argument and logical discourse would be that i'm discovering a lot about myself in the process. if there's no other benefit - tangible or intangible - to what i'm doing right now, i guess it's all somewhat worth it because it's helped (and is helping) me to realise a lot of things in me that have been hidden until now.

i'd better not go on. i'm tired after all this hard thinking as well as a day's worth of reading and pondering on some big issues in life (or my life at least). there's church tomorrow, plus tish is coming up (nice hearty "yay" to that) and i've also got a truckload of work to do (which i am absolutely dreading). i still maintain that if teachers bothered to get to know us as individuals they'd be less pissed off that we didn't do our work, simply because they'll see that we weren't fooling around but were in fact bettering ourselves through other means. after all, if education is meant to increase our knowledge, shouldn't it also embrace that which we study outside the boundaries of that institution called the school? sigh. this is why i want to take a year off before college, but i'm scared i'll never want to get back to it. why does the world look only at what's on paper? sigh. but i'll leave that for another day - not that it needs much (if any) elaboration. good night :( and please if you've read this leave a comment. i won't believe anyone who says they don't have any thoughts at all on what i've said.

once again, good night :(

i hate myself for not being able to control my reactions. i hate myself for taking it personally because when you do that you undermine the whole logic of your argument. i hate the way i'm so proud, so judgmental, so intolerant - i criticise people and bring them down, but i'm no better than them in any way. i think i'm so smart, so superior - but i can't even overlook people's mistakes, i can't even accept them graciously. i think i should stop blogging because the more i write the more arrogant i get. plus i've been worrying more and more lately that my entries are totally crap, that my arguments are entirely fallible. that's my problem, i scorn others for bringing up stupid points, yet my own arguments can't even stand against any potential assault. or i mock people for writing insignificant little entries, yet i don't even dare to speak up. i'm beginning to hate myself more and more. i'm beginning to see myself as nothing but a proud unintelligent loser. i wish i dared to be what i'm not. but i can't even figure out what that is. i'm going nuts. i wish i could kill myself, not because of depression or any shit like that but simply because i'm a failure of a human being. i can't even call myself an individual. i just keep making excuses for the stupid things i do, and putting others down for doing what i wish i could but don't have the guts or willpower. i hate myself so much! >:(

on top of all that, it's been a terrible week. i'm so washed out. i just want to go home and spend the next 48 hours sleeping. it's not exactly that i haven't been getting enough sleep; just that i haven't been sleeping well at all, don't know why, and i think it's also a bad idea to sleep with the lights on for the whole night. don't ask why, i was just too tired to get up and switch them off at the time. but now i'm paying for it.

ah well. interesting how what i (we?) write is defined by my audience. i'll be honest and confess that i moderate my tone as well as topics of discussion with regards to who reads this blog. but, well, only to a certain extent. i don't want to be a conformist but (a)i already am one, that's a given; (b)like pamela (my personal fairy!) once said (although probably more eloquently), there's a fine line between conforming and being considerate.

i wish humans weren't so hard to understand. i wish i wasn't one. i hate myself! >:*(

maybe my concerns should be less for myself (life sucks! the world is against me! etc.) and more for others. maybe i should be more altruistic. after all, my house didn't get buried under a pile of mud; my school didn't close down for a week because of a bomb threat; my country's not in potential danger of getting bombed.

on another note... how interesting. good thing i'm already eighteen and not a malaysian (for more reasons than those of course, hehe).

my brain isn't functioning at all. help! :*(

going crazy. can't decide what to write. help!

...so there we were, editing one another's essays, when he gets up from in front of his computer and comes and sits on the table before us. what have we learnt? okay, bibliographies are important - hell, essential - for getting a good tok grade... that's not the point. what concept have we learnt? and nobody says anything. come on guys, don't tell me you haven't learnt anything? i bet all of you came in to class feeling so pleased and contented, thinking how great your essay was. in that light, what conclusion have you come to, huh? come on guys, think! and still nothing. so i state what is so obvious that nobody thinks to state it. well, we gotta critically evaluate our own work. that's it, right? that's what you want me to say, right? no? okay, i give up. tell me, o master, what i have learnt today. because i'm sure you know better than me. (of course i don't say that. i'm a polite girl, right? good student?) well, that's not what i wanted you guys to learn, because, hey, is that ever possible? can you ever be critical of anything you've done? look at yourselves! i don't think you guys are capable of that. what you guys have learnt today is that it's good to let others edit your work for you! (finally! i thought you were never going to tell me! thank you, o my master!) and then he launches into this long explanation of how letting others edit our work for us is going to help our grades "improve exponentially." (and i thought i'd be able to escape this whole obsession with grades here.) then he decides to extend the moral of the session. what else have we learnt? yup, that's it, we've learnt that a good qualifier is difficult to write. and why is a good qualifier difficult to write? i'll tell you. (thank you oh kind sir for saving me the great effort!) it's because a good qualifier requires you to argue against all the points you've just put across, and that's difficult for you guys, yes it is, because you guys aren't accustomed to doing that, now are you? (no, o great master, we are not. what you say is right, o royal highness. you are the epitome of perfection.) and why aren't you guys accustomed to it? that's because you never do that anyway! come on, tell me the truth, which of you actually thinks about everything you do or say or think, and asks yourself why you're doing it, where you may be wrong, blah blah blah? (momentary pause) none of you right? just as i expected! you people just hang out there with the rest of your friends and do what you do and you don't even have second thoughts about it!...

that's when i stopped listening. i didn't tell him about the journals i've kept for the past eight years, or my blog, or how i think about everything that pops into my head and ask myself where i was going wrong. i couldn't believe my ears. how old does he think we are? i agree it's impossible to suspend bias, but not to that extent...! or maybe it's just me. maybe i'm the only nutcase who does things like that. yeah, that could be it. after all, i'm not cool like the rest of them because i'd rather hide under the covers and travel through time and space than spend a night out partying... after all, i have no life because i don't watch a movie a week... after all, i'm a loser because of what mrs chew did to me and mathematics. but that's impossible! it can't be that all of them can't think - or can it? i've always thought pretty highly of some of them, and i've even wondered if maybe i was the only dumbass who can't get anything in my life figured out. i've always wondered why, when i ask them some of my biggie questions, they seem to have it all pat down, and why it is that i don't. i've always thought that was an indication that they've puzzled things through before me, and better than i have. but now he comes along and disses us all, saying we never question a thing in our lives, saying we're self-righteous imbeciles (well not in those words exactly) who don't question our own thoughts and behaviours - and they sit there dumbly, nodding their heads and agreeing exactly with him! what is going on?

i still don't know what to make of it all. maybe i should just dismiss it as their decision not to argue with him but simply to accept what he says. maybe they're just being submissive, or modest. but something just doesn't seem right. i'm also still somewhat shocked that he of all people should say such a thing. since he started teaching me i have often seen him as one of the most respectable individuals, with most of his foundations nicely sorted out, and with some of the best ideas and opinions of Life And The World. for a greater part of the time i have held him under high esteem, and respected him and his views. it's somewhat disturbing that he should say what he did. then again, maybe i should think of all the times he's put people down, and realise that though he's smart, he's also a selfish stuck-up bastard. maybe i should just remember every single thing he's said that almost made me hate him, and understand that no matter how smart he is, he isn't authorised to use his intelligence as an excuse for him to be mean. and the fact that he does makes him even worse than i have ever imagined.

i guess all this just makes me wonder more than ever about what we call "education" and the institutions that enforce it. i don't suppose it's their fault but maybe the system leaves them with no choice but to see us as a group and not as individuals. after all, i am only one of their many students and they are in no way obliged to see me as more than that. but that doesn't mean it's right, does it? that doesn't change the fact that the only person who knows (most of) the truth is sitting upstairs in his classroom, maybe reading this (hi!) or maybe not, but nevertheless still knowing me better because of what i've dared to tell (partially because i didn't have that much of a choice). i guess it just doesn't make me comfortable that they should see me as Just Another Girl (which in my context translates into Just Another Ditz - which is definitely not a good thing and hopefully not true) because that's not what i am. i guess i just don't like the idea that none of them (save one) realises how different i am (or hope i am) from the rest. but maybe that's the price i have to pay - although for what i'm not too sure. i don't know. sigh >:*(

it almost seems i've been having too many ideas recently. sometimes i feel my life is spinning out of control... but other times i think i can handle it just fine. i've begun this little book of ideas; everytime i feel that flash of inspiration i whip it out and jot it down. at least that way i remember most of what comes to me at the most inopportune moments. the question is will there be time to expand and write on each one of them? it appears to me our whole lives revolve around duties. ashamed though i might be to admit it, the fact remains that what's on my mind for the greater part of the day has something to do with school. what about you? what occupies the forefront of your conscious life? i might be making a hasty generalisation here, but it seems to me the majority of society is caught up - whether voluntarily or not - in their own little webs of duty and obligation. something's wrong here! does it have to be this way? it seems we are recognised only for our documented performances, only for the achievements that are certified. but what of the things we do in our own time? what of the thoughts, plans, ideas, criticisms, jokes, exaggerations we make when we're not on office time? but we are judged by what we print for the public, by the things we do to please them. we seem to be forever limited by higher authorities - teachers who say we are "free to choose any topic" for our essays, then later dissuade us from studying what we've always wanted; parents who say it's "our own future" but then force us to go to a place we hate, to do the things we hate; censorship boards who prevent us from knowing all the ideas out there because they are "not good for us," and you know, i'm sure that greater society, as grown adults, can't choose for themselves what's right and wrong!

maybe it's just me; maybe i'm too bent on having all the freedom in the world, on being cut more slack than is my due. but i can't work my way through the idea that we can't do anything in the absence of duty and obligation. why haven't i been able to blog for the past three days? if it was because of a lack of inspiration, i wouldn't have so much to say. but it's not! i've had so much to say, so many ideas to develop... but no time, no time at all. why aren't we accredited for the things we do on our own? what if we had interests we wanted to pursue? surely the things we do on our own free time reflect with equal if not more clarity the persons who we really are? surely what we do in the absence of duty and obligation (i have to stop using these words! somebody find me a thesaurus...) is an equally good if not better gauge of our characters?

i don't know. maybe it's just me. maybe i'm just disillusioned, jaded, by an unfeeling society, by disinterested parents, by peers who think that to curl up in bed and get lost in a good book means you have no life - because it probably means no one wants to go out with you; because it probably shows how lacking you are of a social life. i don't know. somebody help me.....

i can't believe people like this (note: two links there) still exist. worse still is the thought that that could have been me five years back. i certainly hope i was never as bad, but..... i see the telltale signs - that sentimentality, that suffocating cuteness, that overwhelming sense of self pity, that crazy obsession..... on taking a closer look at it i don't think i was that awful. but then again, one never knows, right? "what part of our history's reinvented and under rug swept? / what part of your memory is selective and tends to forget?" (alanis morrissette, hands clean) i'm probably just trying to persuade myself that i've never been that silly. i remember when i kept hanging around sheryl, trying in every way i could to be like her, thinking that maybe if we were together long enough i would somehow become beautiful, like her, and slim, and trendy, and stylish... and maybe if i stuck around at the right times, the guys that came up to us because of her would somehow notice me, fat and ugly though i might be. i remember how i idolised her, how i'd buy the same things she bought, use the same words she used, act the same way she acted, even changed my handwriting so it'd look like hers... and i'll never forget the things i did for her. maybe it was best that she lost the first fountain pen, because even though i bought her a second one (which i'm pretty sure she lost as well - not that i care now), i think that was the beginning of my turnaround. somehow or other she suddenly became that much less perfect than i'd envisioned...... i'd rather not go through it all again; let's just say i'm glad i've gotten out of that web whole, because i have to admit that i like the present tanya a lot more than i do the sherylised one.

i also remember melissa... that was so different from when i worshipped sheryl, and i'll confess that she was more than just someone i looked up to the way i did sheryl. i won't forget that particular monday morning, after chapel... i won't elaborate but in a way i do miss melissa as well. loving her gave me a kind of fulfilment, a sense of myself - unlike when i was idolising sheryl. i think mel has changed so much since then and i'm not only deeply saddened by it, but also somewhat worried at the thought that i might have played a part in bringing about that change. whatever it is, i'll never be sorry for whatever happened between us... never.....

of course, thinking about melissa inevitably steers my thoughts towards andrew. i don't regret that either, but it's different from how i feel about melissa. i can actually laugh about it all, but i'll never laugh at what existed between mel and i. she deserves more respect than that. not that andrew doesn't deserve respect, but... i was stupid too. then again, maybe i shouldn't laugh too hard because i made an almost identical mistake and it's not by my own doing that it's turned out so great. i wonder how andrew's doing in australia... then again do i really care? (and something in me says, "in a way, you do.")

and when i've thought about sheryl, melissa, and andrew, how can i not remember all the rest - moses, sebby, timothy tan, that guy at the tuition centre... julia, carol lai, stella, marian... i can't believe i'm divulging so many names but i hope this won't have too worrying consequences. i don't think i've ever really regretted any of these - some of course are more important than others; some are milestones more worth marking than others. nevertheless i don't think i could ever say - and truly mean - that i wish they'd never happened. but you know what i love best about it all? that even though it all happened, none of it ever worked out and i only managed to learn from it. because now that i'm putting into practice all that i've learned, i realise that none of it was apt to be real; none of them would have done these things for me. and that makes me happy.

oh the power of nostalgia. sorry if this entry disgusts you - it almost does that to me too. but if you've started reminiscing before, you'll know how it grips you and twists you around. i guess i just wanted to say that i hope they (see above two links) because i'm getting more worried than ever about the future - which most unfortunately belongs to them! (well in a way it belongs to me too, not that that's supposed to be a consolation.....)

note to reader: i was going to write my entry on something else, but then i stumbled across the two websites. the only thing that depresses me is that the "something else" was also going to be nostalgic. what is happening to me????? i think i need more of those fourteen-hour nights... last night was nice but nowhere near enough! :*(

so tell me. is it just that nobody reads my blog, or do you people really have nothing to say? maybe it's silly but one of the most exciting things is when i visit my site and find see that the little number in the brackets is no longer a zero. i love hearing what people have to say about what i've written... especially when it comes to the really meaningful entries, the ones packed with allusions and subtleties and questions and answers, the ones written for certain special individuals. so please don't be afraid to say what you think... don't worry that you've misunderstood me, or that you're not making sense... it's gratifying enough that you dared to speak and you can't know how much i love it!

a name on an eraser, a spark from the opposite end of a room, a smile across two tables... a stirring deep within me and yet i know with certainty two things: i am not yours for the keeping, and i am reading it all wrongly anyway. and i cannot forget the pink sheet and what it might represent...

the last time i cut my hair this short was just over three years ago. she'd been on my case for weeks on end, telling me i had to plait my hair or cut it. "just because it's bordering on the collar line doesn't mean it's long enough to braid," i told her, and it was truer than she believed. but i decided not to aggravate things further and figured it was time for a change anyway. so i cut it. and because i hadn't had short hair in years and years, i forgot The Golden Rule When Cutting Your Hair Short. so it turned out tacky, i had accusations hurled at me - "stop trying to look sophisticated just to attract boys!" - and best of all, she went on leave the very next day. it wasn't till three months later (or was it just one? i forget.) that she saw me, and by then the shortness had grown out, and she never knew how much of a sacrifice i'd made just for her. it took me a whole year (and a little more) to get it long again.

after that i thought i'd never again cut my hair for someone's sake, ever. but exactly three years later, in april of 2002, i did. and this time it was all good. he liked it, i liked it, everybody liked it. and since then i haven't wanted it to change. until yesterday, when i forgot - again, and without excuse this time - that same Golden Rule. i forgot that the change in weight makes it curl in a little more than usual, and so i told him, "just a little shorter." of course, this is how it turned out. i can't believe i was so stupid! but oh well, i guess the next best thing to remember is that... no matter how big the disaster, it will probably grow back. and that's what i'm counting on just now.

for the first time in my life i stood there and said what i had to without freezing up, without trembling so everyone could see. for the first time the paper in my hands wasn't shaking so bad i couldn't read. but of course i have to take into account the heat radiating on me from above, the blinding yellow lights that prevented me from seeing the small crowd of people gathered before me, the self-assured ones who had gone before me and each left a little of their confidence there so that by the time my turn came around i was enveloped in it. and even if those aren't the real reasons, i still didn't manage to look up at them at all.

i wish healthy stuff wasn't so expensive. that's what drives us all to the junk section... i swear! >:*(

the first thing that pops into my head when i think of how to answer the question "how was it?" - because i know it won't be long in coming - is that it was like a roller coaster ride. that's right, a roller coaster ride, only it was sad rather than exhilarating, and though there was that quickening of the pulse, that rush of blood to the head, the final overwhelming thrill never did come and i was left to drown in my own sea of fears. my head is flooded with fleeting images, flashes of colour in the dark, glimpses of a tall dark figure or a stern white ghost. but the most piercing of these memories comes at the end...

- the light is reflecting off the materials they have each chosen for themselves, and i am trying to smile and wave, but my eyes are searching in the semi-darkness for what will be my second and final look. more excited chatter, more hugs though not mine, and i am getting desperate by the second. for a while i think my eyes are playing tricks on me but it soon becomes clear that what i am looking for is not where i expect... i am trying not to show my disappointment when i finally see it. our eyes lock for a second and i know his gaze has been following me all this while; i know he knows it is him i have been looking for. but then i turn away, disappointed and confused, because i know that even as they were standing so close with his arms around her, even as he was watching me over her shoulder, even as my heart beats for someone else, something has crossed the room between us and it is making me afraid.....

later, alone, i lay thinking about all that was going through my head. i tried to remember all the phrases that had dissolved into existence so clearly, so suddenly, in my head, and i knew i should have gone in dark jeans and a black shirt, with a notebook and a pen, rather than the way i had, carrying nothing but a purse. but just as i was about to start writing them all down so i could relive the experience over and over again, i felt that familiar buzzing and was drawn away. still disappointed by the strange and frightening roller coaster experience, i tried to recreate my own, except i wanted it to be thrilling and stimulating and invigorating. but my attempts did not work and i was forced, tears streaming down my face, to let it go.

i am sorry now that i fell asleep before i could put all these things on permanent record. i know that even though it has been barely twelve hours, my mind is foggy and the selective part of my memory has kicked in. i have much to worry about besides this and that makes me sad. we need time but it seems impossible, and you will not bring me on our shared roller coaster ride anymore because of reasons i don't even comprehend. i remember when we used to join our hands so often as we reached the top of the climb, and the rush of excitement we felt as we sped down the steep tracks to the bottom... and i can only hope that you will bring me there again. because even though i can ride the roller coaster alone, it is no fun without you, and i pray you will join me again soon, because there is no denying the something that passed between us across the room and i don't ever want to lose you.....

right now the thing i wish most that i could do is to turn back the time. i'd go back to when we were deciding about extended essays, so i wouldn't be stuck here in this mess. i'd go back to the times i had in acjc, with adeline on my right and ian on my left and laughter all around. better still, i'd go back to the last of my ten years in mgs because words can never describe the way i feel about it. if i could turn back the time i'd stay there forever and ever, because even though i didn't know it then that was the best year of my life.

but then i think about it a little longer and realise that if i went back in history i'd never have the pleasure of knowing A, of being taught so much by him... i'd never get to know pamela or be inspired by her intelligence and talents... i'd never be privileged enough to see hear learn all these things that i know now. and i decide it's nearly worth it after all, that i will survive these troubles, and that whatever the case may be, it's comforting that i can remember - that i can dream. and i think i will go on just a little more, to see what the future has in store, because you never know, and maybe, just maybe, it's brighter than it looks now.

happy birthday A dearest... i love you! muah :)

i find it somewhat amusing that both jasmines should leave comments on the same evening. i don't know why but i just felt i had to say it :p

well, i wrote a letter today and i ordinarily wouldn't do this (read on) because i haven't even posted it yet and i don't really wish to let the addressee find out its contents beforehand, but i guess i can make this exception. i don't think the individual concerned will mind too much... (tell me if you do - u know who u are).

so anyway... there've been a lot of things i've been thinking so much about lately... if i had to classify them i'd say "philosophical" except that sounds a little too scholarly. it's just that these issues have been swimming round and round in my head and i can't get rid of them... but they're misty and underdeveloped so i can't really get a hold of them either. if you've read charlie and the great glass elevator, they're something like the minuses in minusland... you can barely see them as they float around and by the time you can make them out they've drifted elsewhere. and because i'm always so swamped with work - either that or dead tired - i haven't had time to think these things through clearly and thus they've been left to wander on their own for waaay too long in my head... and they've had to fend for themselves and compete with the other less significant but more pressing thoughts (i.e. school and other such crap) and i wouldn't be surprised if some of them have totally disintegrated "into thick ear" as the bfg would say (big roald dahl fan! :p). well, my point would be that... i was so pleased with what i'd written in the letter that i've decided to make this exception and do the "this" mentioned in paragraph two (oh no, way too much literature - i find myself making crossreferences and quotes in my blogs - help!!!), namely, to type out an excerpt from an as yet unseen letter and cross my fingers and hope the person whom it's to won't mind.

*pant pant* lost myself there. anyway. here you go; i've taken out some of the more personal bits but you'll get the gist of it (or so i hope) - it should be pretty self explanatory. and maybe one day when i don't have to worry about "school and other such crap" (paragraph three - oh no i did it again!) i will try to expand on what i've written. (but then again, i'm pretty sure that day will never be. tragedy of tragedies.....)

ok i'll cut the crap. here it is (in italics), and comments are welcome! (only please identify yourself and/or who you're addressing; thanks.)

i don't know what to do. i am very tired... of this country, this school, this family, this life. i don't know why i have to study all of this shit... i want to have time to do all of my own stuff, the things i love best, like reading, writing, drawing, dreaming. i don't really understand this whole concept of LIFE. why are we born? why do we die? what's the point of spending so many years on earth if we can't do what we like? what's the purpose of slogging our way through if at the end of it we simply die and fade away? now i'm living on my parents' money. what will i do when i'm too old for that? but i don't want to work and earn... i want to hide in a little corner of reality and build my ideal world there. and you are part of my ideal world, with my sister, brother, parents, family, friends - the people and things that mean the most to me. i don't understand anything at all. and i'm losing sight of God. i don't know what to do. everything is falling to pieces! :*(

a few things i have to say... (1) i didn't mean it personally when i said i was tired of "this country... school... family... life" - especially the family part. despite all the shit i still do love them all in a deep-down-i'm-tied-to-you kind of way. i think you'll know what i mean if you read it in context... i'm just worn out from the strains of living and dealing with family and friends and even strangers. i'm just worn out by life. (2) i know it's stupid to want to "hide in a little corner of reality and build my ideal world there." i know it's what you'd call idealistic - that's why i said it was an ideal world. i know it's barely if at all possible. but it's what i want to do. i figure that for now, as long as i realise it isn't feasible, i'll get by - and when push comes to shove (did i use that right?)... i guess i'll either have to change my ideals or change reality. or something like that. till then... leave me alone and let me dream, won't you? i've got too much on my mind to worry about that! (3) when i talk about "God" i mean the christian God... christian as in christian not catholic... two years ago i would've said bible-presbyterian but right now i'm having serious doubts about that. so for now, you'll have to make do with christian not catholic, and bible as in The Holy Bible. sorry a little vague. just trying (in vain, it seems) to clarify.

on a different note, i've added a cursor - tell me what you think (e.g. does it go with the rest of the site for instance colour scheme, overall theme, etc.? is it ugly? no come on is it really that ugly? how about when you hover on a link? can't be thaaat bad right...? u're serious? - and other such *meaningful* feedback). and also, comments are welcome! anyone, anywhere, anything, anytime! like i've said, it would be great if you could identify yourself but if not nevermind. and i realise that i'm taking the risk of having horrible comments along with good ones... (a) hopefully the good ones outweigh the bad! (b) constructive criticism is always good although initially a tad damaging but i can live with that... i hope... (c) nothing too awful or i might resort to deleting them. - oh and in response to what jasmine (tan) said... i'm not so much "kinda pissed that people are saying stuff abt what [i] write" as at the fact that people can't say it nicely. they can respond in whatever way like - and i quote my description on this: "may you find pleasure or take offense in the things that i have to say" - but if they have anything they would like to explicitly articulate, then i think that the least they could do is to do so with finesse. but oh well i guess not everyone has that huh? ;)

...and finally, i hate my ulcer! *sob sob* and mosquitoes too. help!!! >:*(