breakin'

Seen the original "singing in the rain'?


gene kelly


Gotta love this :)

Indolence.

Listening to: blue orchid
white strips

My nights merge into days, and my days become nights. Books litter the floor of my room, and my phone bill, like the other expenses, have gone up this mth. Umemployment both suits, and doesn't. Leisure to go out, time to stay out late, the license to spend time doing..nothing. Rolling in bed, planning the iteinery for the day. Sloth. Isn't that what they call it? *smiles lazily* Plan an impromptu trip, stay up till whenever, and sleep in till you're woozy from sleep.

It's hard to get started again once inertia sets in. Tomorrow, i'll be good.

Question.

listening to: i believe in love
the darkness

Question.

If you had found an incredible friendship, is it selfish to want it to remain as such, never letting it progress beyond that?

Because i'm convinced that marriage would screw it up, like it clusterfucks up so many other things.

Skyflowers

Listening to: stellar
incubus

Standing on the shears bridge, the rows of people all along as far as the bridge allowed, I breathed in the sea breeze and smiled. Finally I get to see the fireworks. Amazing. I had worked all the way from the carpark just after mac's at the ecp; carried along by the buoyancy of the mood, and the disappointment of the night before- Stuck on the ecp's midnight jam, hearing the whistles and explosions of the fireworks but never able to see the real thing; courtesy of trees and that damned double decker bus which seemed glued to the side of the car. I had been so upset i was dejected. Until the prata house, that is.

mushrooms that make you go whoa

When the lights finally appeared, all at the same time, I couldn't remember when last something had enchanted me so very thoroughly.. They shot up from marina, the padang, and somewhere at the very edge of the east coast beach. I turned to smile, and received his sweeter surprise. After a moment, we pulled away, the better to witness the tangible fireworks that were still blooming in the night sky..

Fleur du ciel

Magick.

Proclamations

Listening to: you're beautiful
james blunt

I was, and am thinking of having a seperate area for posts which deal with religion, spirituality, all the things that make a jesus freak :) For today however, my posts remain on one. If you don't want to read, then don't!

Festival of praise ran from Fri to Sun last weekend. I've never wanted to, or felt the inclination to go, even though the idea of all the denominations celebrating together was beautiful to me. This year i felt a strange urge to want to be there, and there i was last night:)

Lion was late in picking me up, and it was already 17.30hrs but somebody, please tell me why i knew we were going to get seats *grins* Aggie didn't come, neither did mkor, so it was just us. Once in the car i realised that i wasn't wearing any contacts . Die lah. Crowds have been queuing up since noon, i'd surely be sitting right behind. Just an itty bitty speck 100 rows from the stage. What wld i do, if i wasn't able to see anything on the stage? Frick.

We reached the indoor stadium at about 1745-1800, and made a cut thru Tanjong Rhu to the North entrance. Word was that that queue was a tad bit shorter than the others, so we joined the throngs where i had a good laugh at some of the people's conversations since we were in such close proximity. How do you tell someone where you are by saying " it's the building with the gap"? So incredibly descriptive. Turns out she meant a gap in the crowds. We finally hit the blessed cool of the interior about an hour later. Lion shook his head, and said i shld have been more aggressive in keeping up with him. I cldn't. The thought of pressing against sweaty people, girls with unwashed hair, being pressed upon on all sides.. If people want to get stampeded upon, that's their problem. Peasants. Muhar!

We were pass the gate checks, looking for seats. Frantic ushers telling us to hurry, hurry, ushers telling us to move to the seating at the back of the stage.. I stood there a little, not wanting to be relegated to seeing the back of people's heads the entire evening. I slipped pass the harrassed usher once his back was turned, grabbing lion and pulling him along after me. Amazing isn't it, then we finally were found seats after a few minutes of hunting. Or were found seats by an usher, who had made some people give up reserved ones.

We got front row seats.

The gig started off on time. I won't talk much about the bands Delirious and Hillsong, which lived up to expectations, or that half way thru the crowds thronged the pre-stage area, and i was forced to stand on my chair to see anything, pygmy that i am. I won't talk about the many instances when the loudness of the beat, and the nearness of the His presence made my heart catch, and my lids heavy with feeling. I won't elaborate on how apt the 'sermon' was for me that night either.

It was like the whole evening had been tailor made to make me leave the stadium much more fulfilled that i had in a long, long time. And for that, i offer thanks.

Ennui

Guess what? I'm not working tomorrow, and probably will have the next week off as well. Gosh. As always, with excess time, i stoop to the mundane, and the useless. Attend. *brandishes pointer*






You have moderate sub tendencies. You enjoy being
told what to do, though the domme in you kicks
and screams at times. You can be a brat,
deliberately provoking a dominant. You need to
be reminded of your place at times, bitch.

Fact or fiction? Startlingly accurate.

Are you Dominant or Submissive?
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You're Exotic Dancer Barbie. You have some moves,
and will do anything for a few bucks. Take it
off girl, but keep it PG-13 please.

Phlusse.

If You Were A Barbie, Which Messed Up Version Would You Be?
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obsessive compulsive

Lily wld have been thrilled if i had these qualities in abundance. I left before it became a full fledged..what else? Compulsion.

Which Personality Disorder Do You Have?
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You are a child's kiss. Completely sweet and
innocent and pure. You mean no harm and only
love in your sweet kisses.

We'll leave the analysis to those who know what they're talking about, shall we?

What kind of kiss are you?
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Lies, all of it!!

What does love mean to you?
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~ I originally wanted to write about a something a little closer to heart, but for now, must mush up the stairs to my bed. Night night, world :) ~

One last look..

Last glimpses..

Daily routines- never boring, always traumatising.

Sweet effort.

I have no idea why he's grimacing. No bits of mine were astray.

A view from a window. Mine.

Thanks for the memories.

Leave taking.

My memories will always be with me, wherever i go.

Having snuck off early on thursday, k picked me up, and we went to collect the flowers and balloons that i had ordered. Coming back to an empty office, i got to work. i wanted calla lillies, but didn't have enough time to wait. I settled on gerbera's, their lively, solid colours matching the stationery i was using.. It was only later i realised that they symbolise love of absent friends. Sigh. And so it began. Letters and gerberas left on keyboards. The gerbera's were not packaged elaborately, with only a single ribbon round their stems.. As i worked, i looked at secret bear, the care bear that sher had left with me for my last night. It's strange so much done can be squeezed into only a few paragraphs, but for now im wrung out, tired and aching in every way to write much, or want to elaborate more. As i wrote in the cards, every now and then i would look out, trying to memorise the view. The sun set which has always hypnotized. At the myna's and occasional crow, their whirling, perfect synchronised flight. Earlier in the day, adel had pressed a package into my hands, petting my hair and shoulders, yet again making it difficult for me. I hate goodbyes. So much to say, so little inclination to write about them now.

Friday loomed early and cheery After a torturous car rally, dinner at steve's house with the beautiful grounds and sonmewhat damp drinks at tango, i was ready for home. My cheeks were numb with all the smiling at the cameras, and i was almost exhausted form the day, but bed just didnt want to beckon. I hit my bed at about 5 that morning, but i didn't mind, because some nights just aren't meant to be spent alone.

It still hasnt ended. Coming home today, i checked my mail to find mail from colleagues that only made me run to get the nearest tissue/toilet roll.

Dammit.

"Don't want to leave, but we both know sometimes it's better to go. Somehow I know we'll meet again, not sure quite where and I don't know just when you're in my heart, so until then, smile, don't want to cry saying goodbye." -The Muppets

Dawning.

Listening to: office pitter patter and paper shuffles

Stabbed my subjects arm. Waited for him to stop bleeding from the pricks. Wicked at it while he looked on in fascination. I looked at him and smiled while letting him examine the blood sodden filter. He gave me a toothy grin, he of the nice voice and veiny arms, and remarked that i had to encourage his arm.

Inflictor of pain : "What?"
Inflictee: "You've got to encourage him, ask him to stop bleeding.."
I.o.P:" Him? Don't you mean..it?"
While concentrating on his arm, i hear this through my haze of concentration.
Inflictee: " Yar. The prick. You've got to encourage him"

I miss the times when i was young enough to enjoy conversation without an uncrossable long kang (read: gutter) in my brain.

After i leave, the office will also be slightly more goof proof, not just a small mercy when in an environment with a great deal of sharps and biohazards. It's no secret that i belong to a special group of the handicapped, known as the terminally klutzy. I havn't fallen flat on my face for quite some time now, so the universe must be saving the moment for a more embarrassing one when it can savour it. It deviousness can be observed when you see how it has gifted me with intermittent gracefullness, all the better for marked contrast.

Lookee this - the colour of pain.
See the girl in the left? Yeah. That, my friend, is something i can probably relate to very intimately, given enough time.

Besides finding like minded people who share my penchant for the awkwardly painful, i've also plumbed the depths of employee uselessness. Having days when one simply can't do anything work related, it was to my sweet, sweet delight that i discovered i had colleagues who were capable of being just as innane, or worse. No images will be displayed to protect the names of the guilty. The fact that i looked halloween ready in them, is of course, of no consequence. But honestly.. we could have done this and i bet no one would have batted an eye. I could also bet that they would join in. Well..Some of them anyway.

Of course all wasn't fun and play. Long long hours when deadlines were near, much eye rollin and furi0us frantic whispering in the halls of the facility were more than common.. but i guess every ending is always bitter sweet..

Sigh.

heavyheartedness

listening to: every day you've been away
Bebel gilberto

I saw a disturbance making its way through the throngs. Patiently, knowing it must make its way past me, i stilled my companion and schooled myself to alertness. Holding my yet unpaid item to my chest, i first saw a little old lady, hair all mussed up, with an apologetic smile limping her way to the queue behind me.

First came the mutters of a man, then the man himself. Shorter than i am, with the meaningless smile of the intellectually disabled, he was scratching all over with insatiable fingers. Intelligible mutters and little twitches, that emaciatedness of frame.. Suddenly a great heavyness overcame me. This old lady, way past the age when she should be caring for a child, lines of her sacrifices etched so deeply all over.. why should she be apologetic about bringing her son, now a little past middle aged, into the public? I felt a great urge to shake the auntie in front of me, she with the horrible sneer and look of disgust as she looked at the pair. What gave her the right to think she was better than the old lady who probably had to look at the most basic needs of her child?

All around people were staring, staring. Didn't they realise that the man was a person and not an oddity to be gaped at? Don't parents teach their children manners these days? I am not asking for no looks at all, but for gods sake, not stares that make a man and his mother a freakshow.

Most of all, what pains is me is that the old lady had to not only get used to unkind stares, but also feel that she had to feel bad in any way at all. That apologetic smile, that dipped head, that gnarled figure..

I think on this, and yes, im greatful for everything that has been gifted me, no matter how small a blessing it is. My burdens are considered a "norm", my appearance nothing to be freaked out about. Relatively anyway.

If there was one thing i could ask of the people who read this, it is to emphatise with those who are less earthly fortunate. So maybe the person is a con artist. Will a dollar or 5 hurt you? Will it mean as much to you as to the lady selling those overpriced tissues? Will a smile at a person who is obviously poorer kill you?

It means nothing to feel a little more human once in a while.

Intrepidity

Listening to: Feels just like it should
Jamiroquai


I'm not elated at the news. The second interview with the opthalmologist is on monday, provided i can make it.

Last wednesday, i stepped onto the 4th level of the centre. Everyone was coiffed and heeled. Glancing through the forms i had to fill out, i grimaced when i realised that i would have to fill up the equivalent of my entire bloody resume. ~Fuck me~ Let them try reading my handwriting. That'll have them reverting to my c.v.

I've never dreaded interviews. Nervousness is a problem that disintegrates when i've started talking.

I greeted my iinterviewer by name, having had the receptionist think i was genuinely interested in her day.She had leaked the number of applicants so far, the name of my interviewer, and how long they had been looking. Karen, the HR manager, was youngish, snappy and suffered no fools. Her questions came fast and i could feel her weighing every reply. At the end of the interview- she told me that i might not have the job satisfaction i craved since the interaction with the patients were far and few inbetween. The blunt woman also mentioned that she had already seen someone that day whom she had her eye on.

I feel like.. i've been tossed a candy bar as a consolation prize.

A year ago i would have inclined my head and left it as that. This time after a bit, Karen gave me a wry grin. The second interview was mine.

I laugh as i remember what i told her. She must think me an impertinent chit. I had zero temper when i first started in the hospitals. I had more tolerance when i first started at the facility. I wonder what kind of person i'll be at 30?

Dichotomy

It's striking me more and more. The duplicity of the human nature.

From reinforcement as a child, and observations when an adolescent, your behaviour is moulded; as mine is. Realizing that race can sometimes be a double edged sword, the face of the byproduct that is myself is demure, polite and apparently respectful ( to a certain degree ) . Hardly the wild child an eurasian girl might be stereotyped to be. Older now, i'm less conscious of what people think, and what the herd thinks of me is anyone's guess.

People are fooled by fascades of civility and charm all the time, and i am no exception. Often it seems to me that the people most harmless are the ones who might, at first glance, seem terribly abrasive and tactless. When these speak- people roll their eyes, give knowing smiles and seem to take it all in their stride. After all, we already know what they're like.

But what about the ones who always appear level headed and unprejudiced? Those who flinch at brash displays, moderate their own behaviour and temper their speech to genial civility? They seem to be as moral as they come but.. when things happen, we're shocked and dismayed at the displays sometimes put up for no one's benefit.

Is undesirable behaviour more shocking in someone 'quieter' because of the inevitable comparison that follows? We shake our heads, thinking they were the last people we'd think who indulge in such activity. Or do people who are generally outwardly rude/disgusting have more opportunity to air their grievances?

What's your tolerence level for being disgusted?
*warning- pics aren't of the eye candy variety*

Faith.

I know it's a cornball thing but love is passion, obsession, someone you can't live without. If you don't start with that, what are you going to end up with? I say fall head over heels. Find someone you can love like crazy and who'll love you the same way back. And how do you find him? Forget your head and listen to your heart.

Run the risk, if you get hurt, you'll come back. Because, the truth is.. there is no sense living your life without this. To make the journey and not fall deeply in love -- well, you haven't lived a life at all. You have to try.

Because if you haven't tried, you haven't lived.

Then again, i'll write when i've actually fallen :) That's would be a first.

Profanation.

Its been some time since i wrote on my dreams.

They lacked the vividness they used to infuse into my night; those nocturnal escapades into the depths of my anesthetized consciousness.

Over the weekend i had lucid dreams, recurringly of snakes. I've never been afraid of them, and it gave me a thrill to handle them when opportunity gifted me, watching the nervousness of the others around me while simultaneously looking at the beauty of the reptilian form. Smooth coils of muscle, latent power on call, all hooded eyes and small flickers. Besides, more often than not, they look half dead draped on mine , or on the arms of others. The small ones in my dream were all tiny, well camouflaged on the ground. Tracing patterns that seemingly none except myself could see, i found the head only to have them rear up and sink their fangs into the smooth flesh of my open palms. It was the same all through out; I'd scout, consciously aware that well concealed as they all were, i'd find them for sure.

Most maintain that the key to oneirology lies in symbology. Some are of the view that the interpretation lies in your own belief of what the symbol denotes to you. Others insist that a key set of meanings mean the same to all. Strangely, on animals, both concur. If a snake is to mark you, a betrayal is about to happen. I laughed, and shook my head. I'd store it up to scare people who offered up their deliverings of their unconscious to me. Whether it be a self-fulfilling prophecy or not, the supposed meaning of the dream did come true for me on monday.

Slither away. Your angel wings don't seem to be working so well anymore.

Promises all laid out, repeatedly asked till i gave in. Cave in i did finally, but again i'm reminded that words are fallible. Men have always been frail. Emotions are infirm.

Listening to: Silent all these years
tori amos


You cannot see the walls that divide your hand
From his or hers or mine when you think you touch it.
You cannot see the walls because they are glass,
And glass is nothing until you try to pass it.
Beat on it if you like, but not too hard,
For glass will break you even while you break it.
Shout, and the sound will be broken and driven backwards,
For glass, though clear as water, is deaf as granite.
This fraudulent inhibition is cunning:
wise men content themselves
with breathing patterns on it.

Of men and hair.

Bumped into my old hairdresser, and felt like i was meeting an ex boyfriend. Not that i treat them badly of course, being the nice person that i am. Right. Moving on.

This one was an exception. The last time he was doing my hair, he had found out that i had broken up with then current squeeze. Later he got a little too enthusiastic while he was cutting my fringe, and not knowing what to do, i ended up folding my arms across my chest under that protective sheet and feeling jittery. I wasn't sure if it was my imagination, but it was enough for me to swear never to go back to him.

Back to the awkward meeting. When i saw him, i felt..terrible. He smiled, and our eyes met. I couldn't just walk away, so i walked slowly to him, smiling weakly. He eyeballed my hair, and oh god.. He noticed everything that i had done to it! Perm? Check. New fringe? Check. Sideswept straggly ends that make me look just a teeny bit younger? Check. My toes curled inwards as he noted each little detail, and for some reason i felt..unfaithful. Treacherous.

I spurned my hairdresser, and im still feeling guilty.

Of moving on.

Listening to: Autograph
tears

On friday i made a decision, and now i have slightly more than a month left at nus.
How apt that my last post was one of transition. Has it been almost a year already?

A lightness of step, a release of tension from my shoulders and laughter that went on through the day. Tears as well, knowing that i'll be leaving new found people i've come to enjoy being with. God. Hopefully i don't cry when i leave.

Of settling

Listening to: Bad day
Daniel powter

Gave a impromtu mini tour to angel, and my workarea was an attraction on the way to dinner.

His expression was one of shock- He couldn't believe i had been at the same place for so long without leaving any sign of "me" on my desk. No pictures, no cutesy girly identifiers ( i'm not that kind of girl), no mess.. in short- Nothing. Of course i had the usual trays and assorted papers in a stack, but i had left no mark; if not for my handwriting on an article lying around, he would never guessed it was mine.

"No personality", i retorted.

When i first moved into my little area by the window, i had a gazillion things i wanted to do to pretty up the area. They never came to fruition. I was musing a little, and it's true that it takes a long time for me to want to personalize anything. Of course i love an area that i can call mine, and my privacy is tantamount to sacred , but I always feel like i'm passing by, that soon the urge to move will strike and less belongings will make it easier to relocate. Also, the more things you display, the more people will be able to analyse you. What? Call me anal, but it's true.

The same goes for everything else. I know once i start to feel at home, soon everything will be one big mess, and the cleaning up will be shite.

Sometimes it's easier to compartmentalise. I'm just a lazy emotional vagabond :)

Pringles when you need a salt boost

The anticipation of the trip ahead when the plane takes off

Being able to sit in a car in p.j's and being bought whatever i need. Just sit and jaga the music dial, princess.

Listening to palm leaves rustling on a cool night along the shores.

Being hugged when you least expect it.

Making a baby smile

simply sleeping with that someone you trust and know

Of moments simple

these are the ones i like best

Of stolen laughter

My mind is in the gutter. What would you think if you heard these?

*1*
Rushing along the corridoor one morning, i spotted J with a cabinet which had been overturned. I called out to him with greeting and asked him what he was doing. Brandishing a screwdriver, he innocently replied," I'm screwing! Very tiring. "

*2*
Overheard from the corridoor while with a subject. Our lab tech was talking loudly to one of the nurses in the room while i was with a subject. She was supposed to take someone's blood.
" Aye, Mr I is waiting in the room waiting for you to suck him!"
Crude, but sometimes when you're stressed, small things set you off.

*3*
A reply to me while offering someone a male friend a seat. This time i had my mind dumped back in the gutter. Not my fault.
"No thanks, i think best standing up"
I must have had a pretty spaced out look on my face because he added the next line worriedly.
"Erm, no pun intended ok?"