Four minutes and forty five seconds of OMGEEEEE! Slap me please.
Check this shit out.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Sundays.
So many Sundays had past.
On the Sundays that had past, I always had these words in mind, "I will start studying on Monday".
On the Sundays that had past, I always had these words in mind, "I will start studying on Monday".
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Tsk tsk.
You should be grateful I didnt bring the baby to make a big scene around your neighbourhood at your house. I can pretty much ruin your life like that. But I didnt, you ruin mine but I dont intend to ruin yours. You can show no remorse for all I care.
So for a moment, can you stop being so self centered?
So for a moment, can you stop being so self centered?
Friday, April 27, 2007
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Foooding.
Lists of cravings!
Double fillet
Fries from Macdonald's
Swensens
Mee rebus
Hokkien mee
Duck rice
Instant porridge
McSpicy
What joy, if I could eat them in one day.
WILL add on. Crys.
More sleeping, more eating, more sitting around. I HATE my flabs.
Double fillet
Fries from Macdonald's
Swensens
Mee rebus
Hokkien mee
Duck rice
Instant porridge
McSpicy
What joy, if I could eat them in one day.
WILL add on. Crys.
More sleeping, more eating, more sitting around. I HATE my flabs.
Seize the day
I see my vision burn, I feel my memories fade with time
But I'm too young to worry
A melody, a memory, or just one picture.
I found you here, now please just stay for a while
I can move on with you around
I hand you my mortal life, but will it be forever?
I'd do anything for a smile, holding you 'til our time is done
We both know the day will come, but I don't want to leave you
Seize the day or die regretting the time you lost
It's empty and cold without you here, too many people to ache over
Trials in life, questions of us existing here, don't wanna die alone without you here
Please tell me what we have is real
But I'm too young to worry
A melody, a memory, or just one picture.
I found you here, now please just stay for a while
I can move on with you around
I hand you my mortal life, but will it be forever?
I'd do anything for a smile, holding you 'til our time is done
We both know the day will come, but I don't want to leave you
Seize the day or die regretting the time you lost
It's empty and cold without you here, too many people to ache over
Trials in life, questions of us existing here, don't wanna die alone without you here
Please tell me what we have is real
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
The dark mind.
"Welcome back home my friend, you know you belong here. You know you are never made to be good. Glad your back. You belong to us."
He succeeded again.
He succeeded again.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Against depression.
A great story. Affirming and somehow touching for me.
Against Depression by Dervala
Click
I knew more about depression than most. I’d sat up through the night listening to despairing people on a suicide hotline. I’d seen people close to me live with it—and I do mean live, black jokes and all. I’d read Andrew Solomon’s fat book, The Noonday Demon. Somehow all that unfelt knowledge left me with the belief that if you could get out of bed (even if you’d slept in your clothes), you weren’t depressed. That paralyzing quality, described so often, was one I took literally.
I, on the other hand, wasn’t sick at all last winter. I was just failing and flailing. In fact, I would have liked to have been sick—confined to bed with some mysterious, painless illness that would have let me sleep for a long time and see no one. I thought about that a lot. And I thought about crawling under my desk at work, or into my wardrobe at home. The dark, the hidden, and the confined were the only inviting spaces left. Under my desk, I wouldn’t have to worry about leaking tears, or looking people in the eye, or inspiring my clients to greatness.
A few months before, I’d found things funny. Skipped and sang on Bernal Hill. Turned annoyances into dramatic stories. Said yes to invitations. Now, before meetings, I wrote “BREATHE” on the inside of my left wrist, because I kept tamping down stale air in my lungs instead of letting it out. Then it escaped in windy sighs that I couldn’t hold in any more than sneezes. I walked slowly, hoarding energy. I planned my day to avoid people. At night I would fall into bed in my clothes, as early as I could, only to wake wide-eyed at four in the morning, chased by mean, looping thoughts like a rabbit on a dogtrack.
Have you ever almost really hurt yourself? A badly-judged left turn that makes a truck honk, or a vault off your bike that could have smashed your skull? The knee-shaking shot of adrenaline that wires your whole body after a near-miss is permanent in depression. At that dosage, adrenaline is poison. Every scrap of energy gets diverted to survival. Every fiber twitches: danger—fight or flight? It looks like sloth, but it feels like war.
I felt like I would break, but only kind words cracked me. Luckily, when you’re depressed, you can throw human kindness off the scent: that frowning, sighing slump dries up the cheerful greetings and sends friends away. It must be like being very old, or very ugly. Without the respite of an illness or a convent, I crawled through day after day in which I was an unfit employee, girlfriend, daughter, sister, and friend. My mind plunged into pointless, terrifying rants that came packaged as reality, revealed at last. Life is ugly. No one will help. No one could help. Help with what?
Like rheumatoid arthritis, depression turns your own body against itself. It chews not on your cartilage, but on your brain cells and your sense of reality. It’s as seductive as a wife-beater, shutting out other voices to turn itself into your only friend. The only one who tells the truth about the bleakness of the world. All your energy goes towards getting through whatever stands in your way—struggling, slogging, pushing, through work and small talk and getting food—whatever it is you have to get through until you can be alone again with the voice who can be trusted.
And the last thing it feels like is an illness. No, this monumental, world-swallowing suckage sits outside you: it comes from the project, the job, the love affair, the city, the family, or the decade. For me, these low cycles have always led me to abrupt life changes. It’s a kind of shock therapy: uprooting jobs, careers, relationships, and countries. Those shifts feed the craving for anonymity and reinvention, and they leave behind the shame of a condition that breeds shame.
When I was eight years old I got glasses for the first time. I put them on in the living room, and when I looked out the window, I could see each blade of grass, crisp and bright and distinct, where before there had been a soft green blur. I looked at everything that day, and said hello to all the small things. It was amazing, that all this had been there all along.
Getting better from depression was like that. Missing dimensions popped back up. Plain old normal days tasted crisp and delicious. And then there were the bittersweet replays, when I traveled through the previous months and years, and counted all I’d misheard, misfelt, and missed. Depression isn’t noble or interesting; it’s monotonous, self-absorbed misery that leaves little room for art or kindness or other people.
I’m back, I wanted to shout last spring, that hunched crone was a changeling, not me! I wanted to learn how to get better without running from the site of misery; how to return to people who hadn’t realized I’d been away. I would have liked some scars to point to, to explain my absence. It was shocking, in a way, this drug-borne proof that I’m an animal, washed with chemical tides, turning seasons, light, and food into moods. When you reduce my suffering to a curable disease; to symptoms, postures, and intonations, I’m no longer especially special. All those causes for my sadness fluttered down like snotty Kleenex.
It’s been more than a year since I got sick, and eight months since I got better. Every day I think of the scientists who mashed up rat brains to create the drugs that brought me back to life, and I’m grateful. And I wish more people could shuck that hollow shell.
-
Fate brought me to her page.
TeeVee
Lates.
Against Depression by Dervala
Click
I knew more about depression than most. I’d sat up through the night listening to despairing people on a suicide hotline. I’d seen people close to me live with it—and I do mean live, black jokes and all. I’d read Andrew Solomon’s fat book, The Noonday Demon. Somehow all that unfelt knowledge left me with the belief that if you could get out of bed (even if you’d slept in your clothes), you weren’t depressed. That paralyzing quality, described so often, was one I took literally.
I, on the other hand, wasn’t sick at all last winter. I was just failing and flailing. In fact, I would have liked to have been sick—confined to bed with some mysterious, painless illness that would have let me sleep for a long time and see no one. I thought about that a lot. And I thought about crawling under my desk at work, or into my wardrobe at home. The dark, the hidden, and the confined were the only inviting spaces left. Under my desk, I wouldn’t have to worry about leaking tears, or looking people in the eye, or inspiring my clients to greatness.
A few months before, I’d found things funny. Skipped and sang on Bernal Hill. Turned annoyances into dramatic stories. Said yes to invitations. Now, before meetings, I wrote “BREATHE” on the inside of my left wrist, because I kept tamping down stale air in my lungs instead of letting it out. Then it escaped in windy sighs that I couldn’t hold in any more than sneezes. I walked slowly, hoarding energy. I planned my day to avoid people. At night I would fall into bed in my clothes, as early as I could, only to wake wide-eyed at four in the morning, chased by mean, looping thoughts like a rabbit on a dogtrack.
Have you ever almost really hurt yourself? A badly-judged left turn that makes a truck honk, or a vault off your bike that could have smashed your skull? The knee-shaking shot of adrenaline that wires your whole body after a near-miss is permanent in depression. At that dosage, adrenaline is poison. Every scrap of energy gets diverted to survival. Every fiber twitches: danger—fight or flight? It looks like sloth, but it feels like war.
I felt like I would break, but only kind words cracked me. Luckily, when you’re depressed, you can throw human kindness off the scent: that frowning, sighing slump dries up the cheerful greetings and sends friends away. It must be like being very old, or very ugly. Without the respite of an illness or a convent, I crawled through day after day in which I was an unfit employee, girlfriend, daughter, sister, and friend. My mind plunged into pointless, terrifying rants that came packaged as reality, revealed at last. Life is ugly. No one will help. No one could help. Help with what?
Like rheumatoid arthritis, depression turns your own body against itself. It chews not on your cartilage, but on your brain cells and your sense of reality. It’s as seductive as a wife-beater, shutting out other voices to turn itself into your only friend. The only one who tells the truth about the bleakness of the world. All your energy goes towards getting through whatever stands in your way—struggling, slogging, pushing, through work and small talk and getting food—whatever it is you have to get through until you can be alone again with the voice who can be trusted.
And the last thing it feels like is an illness. No, this monumental, world-swallowing suckage sits outside you: it comes from the project, the job, the love affair, the city, the family, or the decade. For me, these low cycles have always led me to abrupt life changes. It’s a kind of shock therapy: uprooting jobs, careers, relationships, and countries. Those shifts feed the craving for anonymity and reinvention, and they leave behind the shame of a condition that breeds shame.
When I was eight years old I got glasses for the first time. I put them on in the living room, and when I looked out the window, I could see each blade of grass, crisp and bright and distinct, where before there had been a soft green blur. I looked at everything that day, and said hello to all the small things. It was amazing, that all this had been there all along.
Getting better from depression was like that. Missing dimensions popped back up. Plain old normal days tasted crisp and delicious. And then there were the bittersweet replays, when I traveled through the previous months and years, and counted all I’d misheard, misfelt, and missed. Depression isn’t noble or interesting; it’s monotonous, self-absorbed misery that leaves little room for art or kindness or other people.
I’m back, I wanted to shout last spring, that hunched crone was a changeling, not me! I wanted to learn how to get better without running from the site of misery; how to return to people who hadn’t realized I’d been away. I would have liked some scars to point to, to explain my absence. It was shocking, in a way, this drug-borne proof that I’m an animal, washed with chemical tides, turning seasons, light, and food into moods. When you reduce my suffering to a curable disease; to symptoms, postures, and intonations, I’m no longer especially special. All those causes for my sadness fluttered down like snotty Kleenex.
It’s been more than a year since I got sick, and eight months since I got better. Every day I think of the scientists who mashed up rat brains to create the drugs that brought me back to life, and I’m grateful. And I wish more people could shuck that hollow shell.
-
Fate brought me to her page.
TeeVee
Lates.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Friday, April 20, 2007
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Saturday, April 14, 2007
My existence.
I pray.
All these hidings would not deteriorate the relationship between my Dad and my Mom.
I am truely sorry for all that I cause.
Why have I not do anything to please you?
You are the best parents I ever had.
I am sorry.
Your not alone - Saosin
Bai.
P.S It was my sister that made me realised that Friday the 13th was when I recieved the tragic new in grief.
All these hidings would not deteriorate the relationship between my Dad and my Mom.
I am truely sorry for all that I cause.
Why have I not do anything to please you?
You are the best parents I ever had.
I am sorry.
Your not alone - Saosin
Bai.
P.S It was my sister that made me realised that Friday the 13th was when I recieved the tragic new in grief.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Black Friday.
So appalling.
Remove it. The 'it' is not anything. Its a part of you, it is something that belongs to you.
"Im not ready" Oh yea thats a totally responsible answer. Look at the situation, do you think its important if your ready or not? You think im ready either? No I am not. We are young adults, wheres the responsiblity.
You said remove it so easily. Of course.
You got NOTHING to face.
I got EVERYTHING to face alone.
You got NOTHING to lose.
I got everything to lose.
I can list down what I have to face, now tell me, what do you have to face?
I repeat, you have nothing to face.
My life is pretty well screwed up. Every year's a bad year. What can I say? "This is a bad year" thats not my word. "This is a bad decade." That my word. God hates me and I hate him too.
Life is already unstable, PLEASE THROW A BOMB UPON ME AGAIN PLEASE SO I CAN FINALLY NOT TAKE IT ANYMORE.
Bestow death upon me.
And what can you do for me?
The quietness - My house
Chaw.
P.S I hope my Daddy hits me until he kills the liveS. Take my life.
Remove it. The 'it' is not anything. Its a part of you, it is something that belongs to you.
"Im not ready" Oh yea thats a totally responsible answer. Look at the situation, do you think its important if your ready or not? You think im ready either? No I am not. We are young adults, wheres the responsiblity.
You said remove it so easily. Of course.
You got NOTHING to face.
I got EVERYTHING to face alone.
You got NOTHING to lose.
I got everything to lose.
I can list down what I have to face, now tell me, what do you have to face?
I repeat, you have nothing to face.
My life is pretty well screwed up. Every year's a bad year. What can I say? "This is a bad year" thats not my word. "This is a bad decade." That my word. God hates me and I hate him too.
Life is already unstable, PLEASE THROW A BOMB UPON ME AGAIN PLEASE SO I CAN FINALLY NOT TAKE IT ANYMORE.
Bestow death upon me.
And what can you do for me?
The quietness - My house
Chaw.
P.S I hope my Daddy hits me until he kills the liveS. Take my life.
轉角遇到愛
A touching qoute from 轉角遇到愛.
Qing Lang told Xing Lei when shes sleeping.
"Did you really appear in my world?
If so, why did I let you leave my side?
If you didnt, why does my heart hurts so bad?
After you leave, your smell will slowly fades and your face will slowly vanish to a silouette.
I just hope that you can leave something behind to let me know that you are here once."
Qing Lang told Xing Lei when shes sleeping.
"Did you really appear in my world?
If so, why did I let you leave my side?
If you didnt, why does my heart hurts so bad?
After you leave, your smell will slowly fades and your face will slowly vanish to a silouette.
I just hope that you can leave something behind to let me know that you are here once."
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Ignoramus.
Im sorry that im in love with rock. You dont know me, dont act like you do. I am not an angel.
PLEASE do not say something about things that YOU do not know. You have such shallow knowledge about rock, so why say something like that about rock. WHAT DO YOU KNOW. You dont know rock. Dont act like you do.
"Rock music has its roots in 1950s-era rock and roll and rockabilly.
Rock developed a number of subgenres, such as soft rock, blues rock, post-hardcore, progressive rock, psychedelic rock, screamo and punk rock."
It is subgenres from rock. Of course its rock. Wth are you talking about.
"Singing styles can include relativly standard melodic, harmonious rock-style singing; ragged, usually high-pitched screaming; barked shouting, and whispering.These various singing styles can be used by the same band, and often within the same song, and are typically meant to express strong emotions."
I respect that you do not enjoy rock. I did not force you to listen to them. So please respect that I love rock. Do not make any stupid critics of it in front of me if you dont even listen to them or dont have the least knowledge about them.
You dont even respect me. Is this love? Love me for what I am. Do not love me for what you want me to be. Stop trying to change me.
"Rock is a hybrid, a mix of various musical styles and genres."
Its hard to say - The used [Alternative rock, its rock.]
Bai.
P.S I am afraid and filled with trepidation of what will happen after tomorrow. At certain times, I have to remind myself that guys run away with responsiblity.
PLEASE do not say something about things that YOU do not know. You have such shallow knowledge about rock, so why say something like that about rock. WHAT DO YOU KNOW. You dont know rock. Dont act like you do.
"Rock music has its roots in 1950s-era rock and roll and rockabilly.
Rock developed a number of subgenres, such as soft rock, blues rock, post-hardcore, progressive rock, psychedelic rock, screamo and punk rock."
It is subgenres from rock. Of course its rock. Wth are you talking about.
"Singing styles can include relativly standard melodic, harmonious rock-style singing; ragged, usually high-pitched screaming; barked shouting, and whispering.These various singing styles can be used by the same band, and often within the same song, and are typically meant to express strong emotions."
I respect that you do not enjoy rock. I did not force you to listen to them. So please respect that I love rock. Do not make any stupid critics of it in front of me if you dont even listen to them or dont have the least knowledge about them.
You dont even respect me. Is this love? Love me for what I am. Do not love me for what you want me to be. Stop trying to change me.
"Rock is a hybrid, a mix of various musical styles and genres."
Its hard to say - The used [Alternative rock, its rock.]
Bai.
P.S I am afraid and filled with trepidation of what will happen after tomorrow. At certain times, I have to remind myself that guys run away with responsiblity.
Wrapped around your finger.
It feels like I havent been blogging for a long time, though I did left a post everyday still.
I had a dream. Weird thing is I dreamt of him. The one that ruin my self esteem back in sec 2. Well the feeling in the dream was weird.
Dont feel like blogging anymore.
Devil and the deep blue sea behind me,
Vanish into the air, you'll never find me.
I will turn your face to alabaster,
Then your find your servant is your master.
Hypnotized by you if I should linger ,
Staring at the ring around your finger.
Mephistopheles is not your name,
But I know what you're up to just the same.
I had a dream. Weird thing is I dreamt of him. The one that ruin my self esteem back in sec 2. Well the feeling in the dream was weird.
Dont feel like blogging anymore.
Devil and the deep blue sea behind me,
Vanish into the air, you'll never find me.
I will turn your face to alabaster,
Then your find your servant is your master.
Hypnotized by you if I should linger ,
Staring at the ring around your finger.
Mephistopheles is not your name,
But I know what you're up to just the same.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
No, i am not enjoying it.
I am categorize as mentally ill.
Mom told my I got 4 or 5 out of 7 attribute and many other signs could be seen in my daily life.
She find it saddening.
I am entrap in this apocalypse.
Trashed and scattered - Avenged sevenfold
Chaw.
P.S Pull me out?
Mom told my I got 4 or 5 out of 7 attribute and many other signs could be seen in my daily life.
She find it saddening.
I am entrap in this apocalypse.
Trashed and scattered - Avenged sevenfold
Chaw.
P.S Pull me out?
Im not emo, im just depress.
Something to think about.
Why does 'emo' posers love to add me in friendster?
Why does 'emo' posers love to add me in friendster?
Monday, April 09, 2007
Be consious.
My mom keep telling me everyday, self-control, be consious of what you are doing. Be consious of the time. Be consious of long have you been on the com.
I woke up late again. I could have slept in the whole afternoon if I didnt had a bad dream. I dreamt of my mom reformat my com and lost ALL the songs. To that, I woke up.
Stars - Simpley red
Laters.
I woke up late again. I could have slept in the whole afternoon if I didnt had a bad dream. I dreamt of my mom reformat my com and lost ALL the songs. To that, I woke up.
Stars - Simpley red
Laters.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Every rose has its thorn.
We both lie silently still
In the dead of the night
Although we both lie close together
We feel miles apart in side
Was it something I said
Or something I did
Did my words not come out right?
Though I tried not to hurt you
Though I tried
But I guess that's why the say
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
Just like very cowboy sings a sad, sad song
Every rose has its thorn, yeah it does
I know I could've saved our love that night
If I'd known what to say
Instead of making love... we both made our separate ways
And now I hear you found somebody new
And that I never meant that much to you
To hear that tears me up inside
And to see you cuts me like a knife
In the dead of the night
Although we both lie close together
We feel miles apart in side
Was it something I said
Or something I did
Did my words not come out right?
Though I tried not to hurt you
Though I tried
But I guess that's why the say
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
Just like very cowboy sings a sad, sad song
Every rose has its thorn, yeah it does
I know I could've saved our love that night
If I'd known what to say
Instead of making love... we both made our separate ways
And now I hear you found somebody new
And that I never meant that much to you
To hear that tears me up inside
And to see you cuts me like a knife
Black stone.
FINALLY! The long last wait. I shitted. Ahh, the feeling of satisfactory total evacuation. It was hard and strenuous tho, you can see my veins popping out from my neck as every hard-rock stone falls with a hydraulic plop into where it supposed to be. Okay, I will stop to prevent anyone from stomach upsets.
Couldnt blog more. My mood for the week = apathy.
U2 - With or without you
Chaw.
P.S I almost cry shitting.
Couldnt blog more. My mood for the week = apathy.
U2 - With or without you
Chaw.
P.S I almost cry shitting.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Yet again.
Sometimes, I dont know if I should even trust you. Sometimes, I just dont care. For a reason. I dont want to be the one trying so hard. I had always been the one trying so hard in the past. In the end, it doesnt really matter at all any more.
I hate my facade I displayed. And I felt crushed.
I hate my facade I displayed. And I felt crushed.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Unintelligent entry.
My mom was glad we spent time together, even if its at a food court and not some high-end restaurant. Chatted about Dad, life, me, her, Justin and stuffs over the deserts. Im happy that shes happy.
Its been a wearing and fun day! The whole day was all about laughters. At any point of times, I get stomach cramps from laughing too hard. The stupid things we did to bring laughters. People might say that we are childish but they just dont know how to have fun. Its good to be young, its great to feel young. And I will not miss out what I have to do for my age. Its all about how, what we do to create happiness, joy and fun. This is my teens life. Do not let me miss it.
Bought another SHOE! ME LOVE! It was alright tho, I saw a better one. >_>
Yu Jia is SELF-OBSESSED AND NARCISSITIC! And shes getting SHUAI! Love the smell of her HAHA! HER FIRST TIME SHOPPING WITH US! I was like, "WOW, YuJia's coming too?" Hee hee hee.
Gonna miss the nonsense and craps we had.
CLICK TO ENLARGE
More pictures in pending.
Its been a wearing and fun day! The whole day was all about laughters. At any point of times, I get stomach cramps from laughing too hard. The stupid things we did to bring laughters. People might say that we are childish but they just dont know how to have fun. Its good to be young, its great to feel young. And I will not miss out what I have to do for my age. Its all about how, what we do to create happiness, joy and fun. This is my teens life. Do not let me miss it.
Bought another SHOE! ME LOVE! It was alright tho, I saw a better one. >_>
Yu Jia is SELF-OBSESSED AND NARCISSITIC! And shes getting SHUAI! Love the smell of her HAHA! HER FIRST TIME SHOPPING WITH US! I was like, "WOW, YuJia's coming too?" Hee hee hee.
Gonna miss the nonsense and craps we had.
CLICK TO ENLARGE
More pictures in pending.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Something.
Whats going on with me and my life?
Nothing much. These few days I have been trying to work for a better life. Not trying hard enough I reckon.
I am working towards a better life, a healthier life.
I want a job. I want a hobby. I want a sport. I want an active life. A fancy life. What I picture in my mind, is so beautiful. But what am I doing to gain that?
Nothing.
Every night, I tell myself that I am strong. I tell myself that I do not give up easily. Wake up tomorrow for a good day. Wake up for a better future. Wake up to accomplish many things. Tomorrow is a greater future. I tell myself that, when I wake up, things looked as gloomy as they are yesterday.
I want to see in two years time when I go on to Polytechnic, I will look healthier, prettier, slimmer, full of confident than I am now.
N level is a test for myself and at the same time a test for my mom in me. I want to earn her trust back.
BUT, what did I do to attain that? Nothing. I failed again and again. I did not try hard enough. I am sick of giving up. I am sick of the inconstancy in my life.
Havent used my will, mind power for two years. Surrendering at every temptations every enticement. I think its screwed up and not for usage anymore.
Well, the 'pushing' continues.
Im feeling very emotional and sentimental tonight. I cried for the most particular thing. Weird. But theres something I've learnt to appreciate.
All I need - Mat Kearney
Lates.
P.S Justin, thank you for being there and encouraging me. You brought light and laughters to my life. You are all I see, I love you! :) Dont worry just yet, I WILL reach Poly. I hope you will be 'the constant' in my life.
Nothing much. These few days I have been trying to work for a better life. Not trying hard enough I reckon.
I am working towards a better life, a healthier life.
I want a job. I want a hobby. I want a sport. I want an active life. A fancy life. What I picture in my mind, is so beautiful. But what am I doing to gain that?
Nothing.
Every night, I tell myself that I am strong. I tell myself that I do not give up easily. Wake up tomorrow for a good day. Wake up for a better future. Wake up to accomplish many things. Tomorrow is a greater future. I tell myself that, when I wake up, things looked as gloomy as they are yesterday.
I want to see in two years time when I go on to Polytechnic, I will look healthier, prettier, slimmer, full of confident than I am now.
N level is a test for myself and at the same time a test for my mom in me. I want to earn her trust back.
BUT, what did I do to attain that? Nothing. I failed again and again. I did not try hard enough. I am sick of giving up. I am sick of the inconstancy in my life.
Havent used my will, mind power for two years. Surrendering at every temptations every enticement. I think its screwed up and not for usage anymore.
Well, the 'pushing' continues.
Im feeling very emotional and sentimental tonight. I cried for the most particular thing. Weird. But theres something I've learnt to appreciate.
All I need - Mat Kearney
Lates.
P.S Justin, thank you for being there and encouraging me. You brought light and laughters to my life. You are all I see, I love you! :) Dont worry just yet, I WILL reach Poly. I hope you will be 'the constant' in my life.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
My lovely addiction.
I have learnt of acceptance instead of tolerance.
-
These few days, I've been pushing myself everyday. Pushing myself pushing myself and pushing myself. But thats what many people want to hear. Im getting real tired of it. When can I accomodate to this?
Sleeping is still my biggest enticement. Pushing wont help much, it never fail to allure me into the comfort darkness.
Hereby, I offically agree that slacking is the greatest addiction anyone can get............. ...................................... ................. .............................. .................. ............. .............. ................. ..... asides from music.
Runaway love - Ludacris feat Mary J Blige
Chaw.
-
These few days, I've been pushing myself everyday. Pushing myself pushing myself and pushing myself. But thats what many people want to hear. Im getting real tired of it. When can I accomodate to this?
Sleeping is still my biggest enticement. Pushing wont help much, it never fail to allure me into the comfort darkness.
Hereby, I offically agree that slacking is the greatest addiction anyone can get............. ...................................... ................. .............................. .................. ............. .............. ................. ..... asides from music.
Runaway love - Ludacris feat Mary J Blige
Chaw.
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