dying:

from a flu
from my project which everything seems to go wrong wrong wrong!!!!

pens

so it's 8.05 am.
i've been up the whole night doing work...
have spent the last hour doodling on an idea.
when it has finally made some 'sense',
i decide to draw it out nicely on a piece of tracing paper.

first i try my bloody expensive Rotring pen,
it doesn't work.
then another Rotring pen,
it doesn't work either.
Fine.
I resorted to a cheap non-waterproof Stabilo pen,
which draws fine but decides to dry out on me when i'm not even 1/3 done.

i rummage through my pencil case
( it's big ok, not like what guys have = 1 ruler 1 pen 1 pencil )
spotted one and happily try it.
*^&%^
it's dry too!
i bite my lip and dig for another one...
it's another Muji one and it's black!
ahhhhh!

test it on paper and it's not black enough!!!!!
arghs
i feel like i've been bloody vodooed!!

all i want now is some sleep and a nice black pen
*sobs*
but it's time to prepare & head for school.

i can already sense that it's So going to be a great day...

i should never have googled for 'floris honey'

i'm dreaming of this,
but all that's on my table(besides the piles of books) is this....

i love this bean to bits!
but all that's in my mind now is if i should order a whole case of the honey beer.
i want my floris honey...
*drool*

it's only the beginning of a long journey

i'm trying.... trying to do work. *sigh*

me, me & me

the pic on the upper left was taken on my 21st birthday.
then with almost 3 years in London, i end up chubbier+fairer.
urgh.

soaking up the sun at hampstead heath

the hair's ain't looking that great anymore....


perfect for an advert

someday, we will know

There was this little girl,
who one day found a nice big shiny red balloon.
She didn't mean to get a balloon,
but it just floated to her and bobbed around.

It was a lovely balloon,
and the little girl knew it would be nice to have around.
The little girl tied it to herself,
and as she went along her way wandering the green fields of the world,
the balloon bobbed after her.

Everytime she felt alone,
she felt comforted by it.
Everytime she felt sad,
the balloon knew & somehow cheered her up.
Everytime she needed a hug,
the balloon was there for her to.

As the little girl walked on,
she saw other balloons float by.
Sometimes she tugged at them to kind of say hi,
but the red, big, shiny balloon was still hers to have & keep.
She was contented.

No matter how much she poked, tugged, pinched & wailed at the balloon,
it never lost it's gleam,
it never burst.
The balloon continued to be there for her,
following her on her journey.

But the weariness of the world soon got to her.
She felt tired.
She felt lost again.
Even the nice red balloon couldn't make her happy.
Neither did any of those that floated pass her.

One day she realised something...
The very string that connected them felt heavy.
It shouldn't be.
It can't be.
It's just a string, isn't it?

The little girl felt confused.
She couldn't comprehend why,
the nice big balloon was making her feel this way.

She walked on but one day,
it just got too tiring for her.
So she turned to the nice red balloon and cried.

She shed tears of fear.
She shed tears of guilt.
She shed tears of sorrow.

She said over & over that she was sorry,
and untied the very string that kept them together.
But she couldn't bear to let her nice red balloon just float away.

So she did a selfish thing.
The little girl found a tree & tied what was once her balloon on it.

She tied it up high,
where others could not easily reach.
She tied it down with many knots,
so that those who could reach couldn't untie it easily.

The little girl sat by the balloon,
and poured her heart out.
She couldn't bear the thought of losing the balloon,
not to another girl out there.
So she begged the balloon,
"please wait on this tree for me to come back"

The balloon bobbed in the wind,
it seemed to have lost some of it's sparkle.
She wept, asked for forgiveness,
and walked away from her balloon...

eeee....why the ang moh's here so gross one?!

i live in a block of walk-up apartments and lucky me,
i'm on the highest level = 3rd floor.
which doesnt really help because noise travels upwards,
and i end up hearing lots of stupid conversations, lover's quarrels, boys smashing phone booth, polices chasing some running men...
ok.
i think you get the idea.

anyway, while i'm trying to read
LMD's blog and still stare at my last piece of Toblerone,
i hear a "burrrrrrrrrrrrp".
like some fat fat huge ang moh who had just burped his 20pints of beer.
i feel sick again.
think i'm not going to finish my choco tonight....

i'm going green...

my cat just caught a moth and ate it right infront of me.
Arghhhhhhh!
really feel like regurgitating my Toblerone now.

yes i know this photo looks horrible...

urgh. 2 days later and my bruise is looking SO BAD...
can't wear heels either cos my ankle still hurts.
i'm giving studio 57 the evil eye - not going back anymore.
*hmmph*

anyway, i don't think i will be blogging much for now.
my life revolves around me attempting to do work,
while i stare out into the garden and envy those lazing there.

Ooh! but i will be going to Hampstead Heath tomorrow for a picnic!!
will get some photos if i can be bothered to lug my chunky camera out.

a major bruise on my knee, courtesy of Studio 57..... actually there are 2 smaller ones on my other knee. *sigh* that's me for being clumsy.

bits and bobs all over

fyp's in pieces.
ideas are coming in tiny flashes.
all this when i'm trying to complete an application for an internship.
i know it's almost the end.
somehow dont feel like i have the will+strength to go on.
i feel abandoned by whatever situation i'm in.
though i ask myself now: "what situation?"

so as bits come and go,
nothing really seems worth to blog about.
time to go perhaps...

maybe it's time i stopped listening to Ryuichi Sakamoto

| feeling very uninspired | grasping onto thin air | wonder how i will make it through all this |

forbidden colors have stirred my emotions

The wounds on your hands never seem to heal
I thought all I needed was to believe

Here am I, a lifetime away from you
The blood of Christ, or the beat of my heart
My love wears forbidden colours
My life believes

Senseless years thunder by
Millions are willing to give their lives for you
Does nothing live on?

Learning to cope with feelings aroused in me
My hands in the soil, buried inside of myself
My love wears forbidden colours
My life believes in you once again

I'll go walking in circles
While doubting the very ground beneath me
Trying to show unquestioning faith in everything
Here am I, a lifetime away from you
The blood of Christ, or a change of heart

My love wears forbidden colours
My life believes
My love wears forbidden colours
My life believes in you once again

i just cannot believe how much this bag costs..... *sigh*