for no one in particular.

Listening to: this woman's work
Maxwell.

I want.
I want love in its most cliched form

I want tenderness, and that look in your eyes; as wind whips around and a lock of hair is gently brushed.
a parting of lips.
a warmth that takes my breath.
a softness that inflames.

I want aching.
an intenseness.
a passion that loses us in it's midst.

I want satiety.
a fullness that comes with laughter at the end of the day
a contentedness that comes as we wake in morning light
and comfort that allows us to just be.

I want an understanding.
That you're mine
and i'm yours.
Not because we have to,
or because there isn't anyone else;
But because you recognise in me love
and i in you my life.

I want.

Listening to: Aqualung

So if the world is made of omens, and directions and a god, i'll follow; I've followed, and taken notes and..asked.

Then what you ask for is given, and you laugh and smile to yourself, never imagining it would come true. And when you have it.. Huh. What is it about humans that make us wander, and look for the best that life has to offer. Who are we to judge what is the best we should have? That what is gifted to us, is not as precious as its gift wrapped lustre?

What is it that makes us continually look back; what is it that makes us crave, and wonder about what we could have had?

How bereft do we have to be, to truly want what we have?

when was the last time you lost yourself in anothers eyes and seen the same unfold for you?
I swear ive never seen anything as pretty. no, not quite as pretty as you.

You know that experience.
a taste thats so new to you,
and so very exotic
you cant believe you ever passed it by
not when it sends you shocks of shivers everytime you glimpse it, taste it.
The promise never ends
i would lick e.v.e.r.y scrap of your dredges
as i would let you bleed me
your delight, my satiety.

but baby..
it's not enough.
no, not quite enough.

its sad when you have ended things, because you wanted the real deal,
because you thought you deserved better
but its sadder when you know you have it in the palms of clasped hands
and you know you deserve better so you end things.

you float me, baby.

listening to: pure heart of a dancer o.s.t

Why do my posts always resound around the same theme?

Rationally, i offer the explanation of not wanting to mush around the tiresome sludge that is emotion to the ones around me. That it's not worth to talk about, for the simple reason that there are more.. conversation friendly topics that don't expose, lay bare, or simply make one look like a pathethic woman that women are supposed to be. You know.. where men laugh and say women are good for nothing but talks around the household, apron strings, fluffy visons of feminity. Unfortunately for me, i am that girl in one respect, and i know it full well. We all hide what we think of weaknessess, humans to the very last cell.

Love is my religion - I could die for it. ~John Keats

Listening to: 2046 o.s.t

It must have looked like i was supremely stoned.

Perched on edge of chair with legs crossed and shoe dangling, my neck against the rest; fingertip on fingertips, tucked into the space between chair and back. The pen still lies under hand, but all thought of work is gone as i gaze up at the dimmed lights in office. Of late i favour tracks with superbly strong melodic arrangements; rich and stimulating to which my thoughts drift after. Food for my silent ruminations. The only analogy that comes is of strong, warm hands and pressure on just the right spot. Closing of eyes and appreciation comes..instinctively, unhesitatingly,unabashedly.

Glen ong seriously makes me want to claw the stirrups out of my ears.

Listening to: Symphony
sarah brightman

"He said you guys were dating or a while".

Really? He actually said that? I want to laugh and wonder idly if i do it hard enough, whether i can blow bubbles in my soup. Laugh not at him, but at the fact that i am so incredibly stupid!

Instead i put on my clueless persona, make mock sounds of surprises. It comes out that he had told her this when we first met, and i am so taken aback i can't help doing a quick slack jaw. Thank god for things to shove into your mouth when trying hard to hide your confusion.

How do you know when a date is a date, not an exercise in platonic companionship? I honestly am perplexed. What seems like a come on from one, is just an oft used gesture to another. At times like this, I wish i was like some of my girls. Flirtation personified. They know when to laugh, when to lean, when to touch, when to take up a tease. And they know how to say goodbye the right way. Me? I just run off. What you do affects me, you'd better believe it, but then again it might be the effect of an overactive imagination, no? I take everything just as a friend would, take everyone as just that, a friend. Even less because i know which direction my flirts take me. I am a useless female, wot!

It's so surreal walking in the museum in the middle of the night. The Asian Civilisation Museum was having one of its all nighters, and it was lovely to walk without the hoardes. In some rooms, we were the only people, and we had all the time in the world to explore. The lighting flitted around the exhibits and the music seemed louder because of the lack of conversation, making the whole setting more of a dreamscape. The group split up, and i must have ended up a little lost looking because one of the security guards started asking me what i wanted. It must have been my lucky lucky day, because it was his first day (duh) and he couldn't help me anyways. Thanks for asking but.. no thanks.

I take a minute's walk to the river. Facing the fullerton and soaking in the views of the lit up bridge, the loveliness of the night, and the lack of people. I've never been here at this time of the night while being perfectly sober. Hearing muffled laughs, i spin round to realise there is still a couple, furiously necking away in the furthest seat. Looks like i'm not the only one who had a good time. Smiling, i turn to catch my ride.

Listening to: A borrowed ladder
gattaca o.s.t

Startlement, when i realise that no, i don't want that much more really.

People around me seem to be the catalyst for my recent dawnings, and like a conduit i cannot resist being drawn closer, drawn in. Initial sparks are easy to come by. It is the prolongment, the staying power that i wish i could find within me. It is the taming of lust, the temperence of gratification,the wisdom of differentiation and the search for validation of my decision not to settle.

When i say, or think to myself out aloud that time is running out, it isn't the settling bit i am worried about; the black and white of categorisation that i usually abstain from seems to suddenly be the reason behind my fresh bouts of restlessness. Compulsion not from a norm, but a self imposed morality of whether its right or wrong, if i shld just follow the immoderate urgings of my emotions.

Not wanting to find myself at home just yet, i sit by the stone seats at the canal. The inlet comes straight from sungei api api, from the salty, calming sea. With the tides come the wind and it lifts my hair off my shoulder. What i would do for a touch that light that sends both shivers and comfort. i close my eyes and feel slightly beatific for a second.

I thought i was lost, but it was only because i didn't know what it was that i was searching for.

I know, i've already been crucified for my self indulgence.

I feel like i've desecrated this little spot which i first staked as all mine, with censorship. Ultimately, I write for myself; not for anything, or anyone else. It will never be a place that i will care to put much of a face to, not unlike the many other things that i do.

I AM: overtly simple.
I WANT: to be content.
I WISH: i had enough courage.
I HATE: spitefullness.
I MISS: spicy kfc drumlets.
I FEAR: not living fully.
I HEAR: more than I let on.
I WONDER: whats in store for me.
I REGRET: nothing. Except not taking up your offers.
I AM NOT: a writer.
I DANCE: with closed eyes.
I SING: when i think no one will hear.
I CRY: and get over it.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: feeling what i show.
I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: gestures to soothe.
I WRITE: not to be read.
I CONFUSE: myself.
I NEED: better sleep.
I SHOULD: be nicer to you.
I START: with the best intentions.
I FINISH: later.
I LOVE: being carried.
I REMEMBER: you.

Listening to: Black milk
massive attack

My diaphanous understanding of emotions, how they work and the romanticist in me, have been given the go ahead to co-exist with the pragmatist in me tonight.. I will always want what i want. You reminded me.

It amuses me, when people drone on about building walls, like it is so easy to truss up your humaness, like a leaden marionette with a statement of 'i've been there, no more'. Do you honestly think you can blindly ignore what surges through you at the least expected moment? That even though you say you don't want the pain, at the back of your little broken heart it waits with bloody breath for the moment you can at last slumber in the arms of someone you call beloved? I understand, and i'm sorry you feel this way.

You've told me. You want to be heard. I'm not the only exhibitionist, and your need for wanting to be engaged, heard, is so tumescent that it feels like it is going to explode all over my face as i scrutinise you. You want to be engaged, and you, you poor fool, pain can never be brushed off, only slightly muffled by your ego defences and psychological frou frou.

Your heart is sanctitiously yours no matter what it feels like at times. Unfortunately, dear one, that means you get to drink in all of its glorious wine, alternatingly cloying and vile.

Listening to: Princess superstar
perfect exceeder

Some women lose weight from their faces. Others from their arms, tummies, ect. Working out has garnered me nothing except continually shrinking boobies. I feel a little betrayed by my body (as fat but flatter is never anyone's goal) but at least im getting some use out of my shoelocker.

Against my better judgement, i decided to wear a never worn,pretty pucci like dress (the kind that stays up by magick!), and something a little warmer over since its been almost literally freezing.

After stepping out, i noticed that the fit of the elastic was a little looser, and surreptitious adjustments were needed from time to time to make me feel that much more secure. Since it was dark out and i was late as usual, against my better judgement i decided not to go back and do a change although the thought of a nipplegate mishap did flash unfortunately quickly pass. Halfway through dinner after much laughing, dessert and after dinner drinks, i noticed that i was a leetle colder. A rush of sudden chest awareness had me realising that my left girl was as bare as..she has ever been in a cosy group that didn't involve water sports. And i had been so engaged in my friends that i had no idea what had happened, so i couldn't even gauge how long she had been left out in the cold!

I am so thankful for the weather. And for long hair.

Garh.

listening to: when all is said and done
tommy walker

The mysteries of life. Didn't go to the gym for 3 weeks, and was finally dragged down by some persuasive fitness freak. The bizarre thing is that.. my muscle mass and basal metabolic rate went up! If crap food, sitting for extended periods and not enough rest consistently give me results like this, im a believer. Holy shit. And the best part is my fat percentage went down by 3%. Amazing. I'm actually excited about something. Another unusual thing :)

Nights at work have been even more brain numbing. Managed to escape for a few hours to kim seng road yesterday, used my subject's bath and look fresh (relatively) for dosing at 7am. Not the most glorious feeling, but breaktime is breaktime *grin* I am reminded of what breasts feel like against my back, reminded that i am ragingly ravenous of late, but it is not what i am looking for.

I don't get it. Either i've looking extra friendly or i've been giving off the wrong vibes. Either way it can't be all good. I've been asked to surf, which sounds brillo, and to Hong Kong. to shop and disneyland. So you see, i can't win. I either look unapproachable when i don't smile, or easy when i laugh with you? No prizes for guessing if i'll go. I want a holiday though. Big sigh.

My 2 angels are flying away. Taiwan has gone, and dubai is impending.

New job pending. Travel 30% of the time.

Bought myself a lil more education, so i'll have less mo-nay and time. i don't exactly crave them right now.

Too many changes, too little constant.

Listening to: If i fell
The Beatles

Have you ever wished you could relinquish the upbringing you'd always held dear?

If one didn't know what was socially right and wrong, then we would not have the same expectations. If we didn't hold our conceived rights close to our hearts, then we would be more accepting. And it follows that if we are more accepting, we'd be easily happier with what we presently perceive as a slightly stunted way of life. No pun intended. *rolls eyes*

If we didn't know what was right or wrong, we'd follow what feels best; instead of rationalising, we'd just.. be. We wouldn't know second best, we couldn't care even if we did, because we'd be too busy giving a damn about the what we have.

It sounds so indecidedly unsingaporean, so contrary to what we've been taught and yearn for.

What do you crave for today?

How many of us are craving the exact same thing, at the exact same moment, the same quietly desperate moments that all people must face?

I know. I creep myself out sometimes :p~

listening to: daughter
pearl jam

3 minutes to 0500. I've been tossing under, over, without my sheets for slightly less than 9000 seconds. I have a meeting in 3 hours. Frustrated, i get out of bed, fling my legs over the side. The floor is freezing, and i pull my sweater back on. Im too listless to wear anything on my feet, and they feel ice cold to me.

There is nothing that appeals to me right now to fill up the time. Havn't gamed for the longest time, don't feel like talking, the trilogy next my pillow seems like a pointless, childish, waste of time. I gave a dead line to give up smoking by june a few days back. I wonder if i need have bothered with the vow, because what i used to enjoy, feel pleasure with, and grin at the thought of a drinkees with like minded people who breathed in the same air as me, now gives no pull. The past few sticks have been ditched after a few drags. The smell of beer left too long makes my stomach loopy.

I rake my fingers through my hair , walk up to my room windows, look at the grills on the windows, into the multi story parking lot across. Bars across bars. Intrusions into my privacy, the building across. I used to feel so angry, that i had to keep my curtains closed all the time once it was up.

Now i wonder again, need i have bothered?

Even without these conceived barriers, inconveniences, freedom hamperers, i think we still do well enough to put invisible ones around ourselves.

There is only one thing i want to know right now, and that is when i'll be able to have the sweetest sleep again.

Listening to: Karma Police
radiohead

I've never had a month with more highs and lows than this february.

Ecstacy and contentment, not always mutually exclusive. Goosebumps ( black knights=instant pant cream). Anticipation, and enthusiasm, all conspired to make me more foolishly open to everything than i have ever been. Granted, my routines of late have been less than healthy, but i was enjoying being free, relishing how i felt, which was- alive, and terribly happy and loved.

Feeling intensely alive demands you feel every single, fuckin little thing.

How could you do it? You asked me to trust you, and i did, i did, but you became a beast in that moment.

listening to: at last
cyndi lauper

How many perfect days are allowed to go by consecutively? I'm stretching them out with absolute pleasure, savouring every minute, luxuriating in their unpredictability.

On a perfect day, you wake with a slow smile on your face, and with a certainty of being able to weather anything, and everything. Not everything might go absolutely right,but you're still good, because you know everything has its moment, and it is now.

On a perfect day, i ditch my usual drill, and contemplate instead on the opposite; what i can do for you

On a perfect day, i am filled with the realisation that i am suddenly, inexplicably different. What a difference one person can make :)

And the difference is you, lord.

I seem to be doing tons of sobbing lately.

I've run out of tissues, and have added a new kind of pride to my already extensive list. The kind that makes you pretend like a boulder just got into your eye when someone looks at you incredulously and asks," Shite girl, are you crying again?" and then rolls their eyes.

First was when the alien died in CJ7, and the second when i watched Le Scaphandre et le papillon (the diving bell and the butterfly).

Let's concentrate on the second, the true story of Mr Jean-Dominique Bauby, editor of Elle, in paris. He suffered a massive haemorrahage, leaving him with a body felled by total paralysis except for eyes able to blink. (Later they sewed up one eye due to a malfunctioning of his tear ducts.) The remarkable bit is that he was totally, and horribly alert. This is termed all too aptly: Locked-in-Syndrome.

So this chappie starts dictating; tediously blinking through the entire alphabet to construct words, sentences, chapters, and finally a bestseller. He lays bare his horror, humour, emotions and regrets alternatingly living and not living life to the full.

Perhaps the scenes are more raw for me because i've had patients who've had a total stroke out before and who were unable to move and speak. They might not have had full mental capacity, but to be constrained to a life on a bed and to the terrible monotony of..just lying is hell on earth even to consider. You can never again taste the pleasure of food or indulge a craving, someone wierd cleans you everyday and you have no choice if you don't feel clean enough. No one can scratch that infernal itch for you, or change the channel of a static tv that droans endlessly. Worse i feel, is the silence and supernatural length of the night when so many of them lie awake because of the hours spent sleeping during the day.

During the night, no one else is around. Fear sets in- So many things can happen. Choking on your own saliva, a pain that gets worse and worse and you can neither shift, nor call out; these could be surpassed by your own demons made incarnate, or nightmares that you can never verbalise or be comforted from.

For a while Jean-do appeared to be recovering well, regaining use of his neck muscles and managing to grunt songs, but only days after the publishing of his book, he passed.

The direction of the film, cast and landscapes of france make it impossible for me not to fall in love with the bitter story.

The gleamings of what i have been reminded of from this should be obvious, but oh, how foolish i feel fretting about the small things and people in my life. And how dead to life i have been.. If i have to go through the same thing as jean-do did, i'd be horrified more by what a waste of oxygen and carbon i was. If it happened to you today, what would you regret?

Listening to: Shy
Sonara antartica

Random thoughts. People can be surprisingly beautiful.

The security guard who takes solace in the lateness of the hour- playing a chopin. He stops when he sees us, but he doesn't know we marvel.

The sleazy scholar with his hard earned, oft flashed material comforts. Brash and coarse at first he seemed to me, but he takes time out to cook his soup for his sick mother, and his attentiveness is.. *laughs* surprising.

The unexpected card from a friend. Sniff.

The look in my mom's eyes when i told her i wasn't coming back for dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am so pooped. Today is just goanna be errands, and movie with bets. *yawns* No longer thinking about ze supposed lup of mine life, think i've gotten to know him a little too well. I thought i knew the difference between infatuation and lurvve. Apparently it takes time to tell :D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Like from a different realm
light itself you seem
illuminating for worlds around.

Symphony of words
Crescendo of desires
You play me, maestro
bringing forth in tones
songs my heart never knew.

Sparks of you
set my soul aglow
a jolt to my senses
a star to my sky
and a new scar to bare.

Listening to: Anybody's fool
Dylan

Does everything really happen for a reason? Or do we only say that to console ourselves?

When i was in the lower primary i wanted to be a missionary. I'd take a chair, climb up and get my parents tapes and books on religion. I did a saliva pact ( i was too afraid to bleed myself at that age ;p) and told god that i didn't want to get married or have children so i could become a missionary. What use was it, when all i wanted to do was be a nun? Of course once i entered a co-ed school that changed somewhat. So strange, because i don't really feel the inclination for kids still.

Again, i was in primary..one or two; pissed off this girl, Ing Ing, who was tiny, had a really big head and had 2 thumbs on her left hand. During p.ed, i stepped on a snail and killed it, complete with the sounds and sensation of shell crushing and mushy wetness; As i starred in horror, rubbing off my white bata shoes on the soggy grass, she came up and started wagging her finger at me.

"Orrrh", she mouthed. "Now you're cursed to be short forever". Now you can hardly see me unless you happen to be watching where you walk.

And sometime in adolescence, i had my future told, and was told i would only marry someone i didn't love. Hmmmmm.

What about my dreams, everyday ones that are so lucid, that i wake and find myself perplexed, or the ones that leave me startled awake with a running pulse? Do those come true as well?

On a lighter note, my colleague offered to give me a massage when i complained of sore legs from those bloody lunges ( no, he's not a sleazy bastard, just sounds that way alot). And my subject asked if i was 22. Hahahahaaa!

Perhaps i'm not the biggest fool around, eh? Then again..

Listening to: Toothpaste Kisses
The Maccabees



Stole some picies and a vid from Vampies blog, she's got some footage of our Yu Sheng! My sister, the consistently trigger happy one.


Family gatherings aren't the thing i look forward to the most, but sat nite's one was pretty amusing as dinners go.






Anyone else getting the urge for iced kachang?









I love how the waitress does the auspicius sayings as she prepares the dish with the assorted ingredients.. Can't understand much of what she says but everyone else has the same blankly anticipatory look ( i know, i love the crispy bits too) and the only help i get with the translations are the usual, "Year year got fish" kind. Aha.ha.


Here's a breakdown of what the ingredients each mean (Again, stolen from vampies) :


Raw fish - which represented abundance
Peanuts - for eternal youth
Peanut crumbs - for a household lined in gold and silver
Plum sauce - for a sweet life ahead
Crackers - usually puffed crackers aka Golden Pillows for wealth
Lemons or Limes - for a fruitful year ahead
And oil - for glistening wealth


Aww. The older i get, i better i enjoy my traditions. Perhaps i'm afraid one day they'll slip away and i'll have no one to ask what they mean anymore..

Chopsticks to it!



Don't you just love tossing a salad? ;D

Grinnin' like a loon with the latest Hogan, courtesy of the Bro.

Rare glimspses,my specialty *grins*