i've decided there's no "the end".

it sounds sad

and sad is the last thing we need on this chilly morning

lets just say

thanks for being around this year

you know who you are

and before u start wondering if this year meant anything

it meant something. you meant something -

to a little girl like me.

p.s. off you go, and fuck the rest. today is yours to wrong.


...you ate all the fruits in my fridge

on the second last day of 2010 i came across a familiar pictorial titled
"plums in the icebox" -Dossier Magazine

it made me remember a dream sometime some months ago

about a he eating all the fruits in my fridge

its more than just food.

don't grow up. its overated

and while i was roaming alone
some familiar feelings hit me like the tides of shoulders on the crowded streets
they come and go, knock me over and again from different directions
the past the now, the year ago, the years before
i hesitated. before decided to step into my past. (or really, the people who defined it)
too scared? a coward to face the fact
that i used to lead a much happier, much fuller, much me-er life than the one i'm leading now
too tired? to smile like i used to without feeling i tried (and failed)
saw some familiar faces that looked a little too unfamiliar, some new faces that felt old
some hurtful memories that seem to hurt less
met him and it felt like nothing ever happened the tears never fell the smiles never stayed
so it was all hows-college

some girl told me
the luxury to dream died with the two years of paradise
now rationality is the new hype. bye boyfriend bye parents-hating bye i'll love you no matter (as long as skype exists)
hi career hi competition hi friends for benefit
because we left the land of dreams and ran towards the blinding lights like
moths attracted to the sugarcoated glamour
and though it left us
burnt ruined bruised teary bleeding
it opened another hole in our teeny brains
a new inception that life is to be lived, dreams are to be left for the night

so now i sleep
more than i ever did
thats the only time
when i can retreat to the dreams

p.s. some weliveyoung said 'don't grow up. its overated'
i wish.
i could.


i'm just a girl with a fragile heart

it took me back
when i saw the music attached
it brought too much tears
when i let the song play

i spent so much time
learning trying forcing
not to let the feelings surface

and it just took two lines of a song
to break my heart

its so unfair

i'm just a girl with a fragile heart afterall

never stop this train

to make the long story short
(or rather, to visualize the impossible train of memories)
it had been a 30 min ride with 5 stops
5 different stages of the story of us:
summer paris london court trials midterms christmas
whoa. if it could only be 5 stops
then i'd wish upon a falling star
that john mayer's right
when he said
stop this train.

maybe its the melodic breathing of the maldivian sea
or the array of champagne supernova
or just something along the lines of understanding and compromising
the pain of soul searching soothed like the fading footsteps on the shore
where the blue and the beige kissed and retreat

or maybe its the moonlight (better, the spotlight)
the silver moonpath the flight of glistening stairs that descended from the dark satin to the rippled navy
or the little specks of smiling eyes the brightest one in the north the little red ruby or the three-in-a-row
even when the little island of paradise faded into the drape of night together with the frameless memories
i recall no pain
but serenity

she asked me if i'd feel sad
if some other she took his hand and his heart
i said when a girl got to the other end of sitting wishing waiting
she'll grow

it took me a few more stops than a normal girl'd take
to get to where i am now
in the end
nothing brings more bliss
than unwrapping the boxes labelled "dear sister, with love" under the dancing pine tree seeing the child-like smiles on their faces wondering if my brother actually murmured a little thankyou

no matter how many times the desperation misunderstanding suffocation brought tears and aching hearts
these are the ones worth hurting for
you'll always know, ab initio,
the antidote's the understanding within

because others are just stops on the ride
stations you don't have to bother getting off for
watch feel and learn
and let the rest speed by and the rest of the rest speed past and stay where they belong

last christmas
i gave him my heart
and took it back

this christmas
i gave them my heart
and they cured mine

merry (belated) christmas


so THIS is love

the belated christmas cold finally kicked in, my heart though, was numb and hollow.
this morning i found myself waking up with bb between my fingers, only to realise i fell victim to the anger that came from the fatigue, fell asleep thinking of the right words to match the right feelings.

today, while the wind whipped our faces and hair blurred our vision, my bitch confirmed the doctrine of indoctrination.

"when you tell yourself you don't care, i don't care, why the hell should i care when he doesn't care anymore at all, ever?" "...then your will will transform the belief into reality"

"and in the end, you don't give a shit. "

yes i can finally literally say it like i mean it. whole-heartedly. but the sad part of the realisation? its not a remedy, but a lie. to disguise whats always crystal-clear inside

when two person are in denial, and the world doesn't give a shit to the truth since the day of its birth, no one will.

and wut are we searching for when we alleged proudly that our mission is to be true to our feelings?

because my feelings told me i cared so much i can fall asleep and still dream about him. like its not possible for the thought to leave my soul only to be drowned out occasionally by loud music.

don't worry. i am accustomed to the hurt.

p.s. while billy re-told her hurt and the indoctrination of "i don't care anymore" began,
i heard the invisible tears. and all i could do is hold her hand. i remember its the same thing we did 3 months ago. but we were so young and happy then. its just 3 months ago.

we once said, well albeit, this is love.

now? after all the hurt, the lies, the deception and finally, the realisation.


THIS is love.


if curiosity is my temptation, then guilt is my motivation

usually, sex and the city makes me find my light-hearted laughters again on a very cold day like this.

today's episode though, is a little heavier than the rest. but its is there where i found my answers.

maybe carrie's right when she asked "is it dangerous to open your heart?"

what if my hurt failed to attract a siren-call, who's gona be my superman tnite?

they say a heart is deliberately constructed to work like valves, they open and close periodically.

i guess the solution is: to grasp the right moment when he opens his heart again

i know now that its really a matter of timing and timing and luck. we'll just have to wait for the time when both hearts decide to take a leap.

right now, though, is not that moment.

p.s. sometimes tears are just a tangible emotion that summarizes up the rest. so when we cry, please spare us the whys. and when we don't, don't question our smile.


a stroll down memory lane

after a stroll down memory lane on a frisky morning, i realise there are a few flaws i found within moi.

first, it is almost impossible for me to forget the details, the good in everyone of them. i know it all ended in a bad way, but almost everytime when i start to recall i only remember the good bits. never did the tears and tiredness blur the bliss, because when i lied down with him under the starlight on the roof above the gym, i really did thought it was the best thing that had ever happened to me.

then some other best things happened, like how we counted off the places on the map above his bed, counting off the places where we'll be heading off to after the exams. i remember the map of life he drew on my bed, linking the dots counting the days when we can meet again somewhere in the middle after he came back from lse and me in hk.

maybe its the way he stayed by my side when i had fever, or the post-it he left beside my bed that made me tied to all these. and till now, i still can't remember the reason
why i decide to throw all this into the sea left him driving off into the dark into the future. alone.

sometimes remembering all the good make you feel worse, and often you are left alone to deal with the hollowness that came from the sea of whys.

and since i can only remember the happiness in the aftermath,

this time i tried to make it feel worse, so when it was all over, i can enjoy the relief.

but i guess, life doesn't work by elimination.


if today is a name of a song

if today is a name of a song, it will be dean martin's marshmallow world

it started out with a rather reluctant vibe aka introduction to chinese law 9:30 loke yew hall.
plesh. i've never set foot in that place in what? since i quit my job?
but well mid-terms are mid-terms (aka boys are boys in some i've-forgotten-the-case-name-contract-case) so it's not like discretion has any of its right and privileges

but this morning some sweet person made me laugh so much he made the 30 min wait at the minibus stop felt like 5 second. oh well, 5 min. (i swear the line extended to the other end of the block forming a complete square. can u possibly imagine? a line of people forming a square?)

so i was writing writing away in my exam not really conscious of my thinking because oh-well the justification is that this is merely an INTRODUCTION so thinking is not needed.
thanks for letting me know.

so it led me thinking somewhere else. if only the world can label its content as mere INTRODUCTION v IN-DEPTH STUDY.
then i would know when to put an end to the abyss of thinking
on things like
why you didn't reply my text and
why i smile so secretly yet so much when i listen to your voice
i think it only deserves an INTRODUCTION, no?

i have to brag a little here, given that it is my private space, please spare me the judgment
i feel flyyyy when i got my VERY FIRST A (yup. you are still sober. its an A as in A-line coat) for my constitutional law assignment.
i did make sacrifices aka called off work for two days to be innocent (refer to older posts hehe)
i still can't believe it

so they say, the butterfly effect. i relate this to my bliss for the day
i find myself floating towards prints, grabbing this and that, matching, dismissing, loving, aww-ing and finally got the stuff i need
for mum and dad's anniversary gift

she said its 20 years.
i know, its long and not-easy at all. at all.

and there i spent the entire afternoon
buried by a landscape of memories, some labelled old, some labelled kowloon tong, others, when dad is still a single man with beatles' hair.
i secretly kept a few of his portraits.
man, he's amazingly handsome
and i'm being as impartial as can be

so i finally put together, the start of 20 years and the 20th year to come
funny how they changed so much, inside and out.
i know its inevitable
but i can't help sighing
at how young and happy they looked
just 20 years ago.

and just so to end on a happy note,
i'm sending out christmas cards tomorrow. by hand. i've lost my trust in the royal mail
and in 10 min time i will be joining the couple for their first in-house anniversay celebration.

may love prevails.


you are my world

even though i've been trying to exclude the world for the past week

i realise it's impossible to exclude anyone who made up my world

esp people who decide to come all the way from adelaide for a winter christmas

and the nocturnes who couldn't sleep at night and admit it in the morning otherwise

or those who's stuck in boston for a europe trip some girl lost in the enchantedness of japan

or that very silly who is upon return from paris retail therapy.

not to mention my dear little sis whose homecoming from sherborne this very weekend

so christmas is not merely a time for putting up darlings on christmas trees, a reason to watch and rewatch loveactually screaming at hugh grant aww-ing at keira knightly and her secret love

its simply a special time of the year

when all those made up my world

come back to my world


all i want for chirstmas is you

ouch. my pride was literally hurt by the fact that i failed (yet again) to find the answer to a factorization problem

if there is an award for the worse mathematician on earth. i would nominate myself.

and there i found another legitimate reason to be in love with the mess i am tangled in

at least im stuck with words

please. numbers screw up my mind. like notes in music. i hope you see the white flag no?

currently i am mesmorized with charlotte's famous " how far will i go for true love" (sex in the city)
and it kept me wondering for an entire night
whether i would REALLY give up christmas for a Jew.
(at least the OC made christmukkah sound...livable)

but the answer came
when i found myself choosing love actually's soundtrack over john mayer and danced and sang-a-long to all i want for chirstmas (two versions), listened and kindly dismissed coldplay's christmas light eventually falling head over heels for willie nelson (...featuring norah jones)'s baby its cold outside

and when i found myself hugging the big fat pine-scented christmas tree that finally shovelled its way through the door

i realise






i feel beloved.

after a long due fight with severance, i decide to throw throw throw everything underneath my car and drive off to nobu nibble some grilled seabass flirt with the oceanview chew on some love with my musee

then off we danced towards the ecoya scents, only to let cire trvdon let us down. so we decided on some french pear and lotus flower and let the coffee beans cleanse our minds.

maybe not really. before we know it we are giggling and falling in the carpark laughing at bmw with bmw-plates and the going-bald man in front of the driving wheels. how funny is life?

with that, i got it we don't need to get drunk to discover love, laughs, lies. its all around, like christmas is all around us

so let michale buble tell you what it meant when i say you are my everything.

p.s. just to let you know, i was smiling under the covers all the time (as i listen to you sleep).


mix me like banana smoothie

today, let the eyes speak its words.

like Karl Lagerfeld said it in his imfamous way "the visual version of homer"

i won't tell you my favourite from the 2011 pirelli calender, but these are my recent beaus:

La Rose Noire by Timmothy Lee


but no, we don't need you.

i did literally nothing today

too enchanted by yesterday no?

left me wondering

am I still the confused girl standing looking at her toes at the crossroad

or am I a girl who understood a little more cried a little less spending more time alone

no matter how many flight of steps i fall

i will but only fall back into the world's embrace

did i cry for help?
yes i did.
but i am only ashamed of it and will always be
for the weakness
for the need

for that i need
i will never tell.

what a waste i could've been your lover

now the midnight talk made me head spinning
i wish i remembered half the things he/we said
i just find it hard to forget
the giggles
in between

after norah jones filled my candle-lit room,
together with w's baby love lovely pictorials
the world in here smelt, spelt

thought there's always one thing at the back of my mind
as tlf named it "the fidgetness"
the little vague but colourful memories of rue de royale and grand central station
oh if i could only taste the big apple this christmas
i wish it wouldn't taste half as good as paul lafayet's apple crumble
plesh no.
i die.

p.s. and off i twirl to my snowflakes and christmas tree


the problem is...

a year ago

we proudly call ourselves: the nation of procrastination
my roomie and i will sing along to linkin park on sunday mornings jumping on our beds before rolling down the effing stairs rolling down to canteen and coop tons of leftovers into our lungs and then lay down at the wrong end of the bed listening to ourselves breathing

at the evenings, all we have time to think of is how to sneak out after 12 at the back of the tennis courts maybe grab a little shisha session at the stairs or jump into a red cab taking us to the other side of the city where we paahtay and dance until the dawn dawns upon us

or i will be having icecream with phil and talk randomly about steve jobs and fall asleep on the roof thinking how good it will be never to have to wake up to this fucking world again and then found ourselves wearing pajamas to the nearest mcdonalds and saying fuck you westernization as we gulp down fries

we will mourn and weep and mourn and lie until the weekend comes again so we can steal cans of soda from the canteen party and secretly wish that the smoke machine will be out of order again so the firefighters can come evacuate us from hell.

we will laugh like there is no tomorrow and smoke til our lungs turn black

and now treat alcohol like an antidote. sing sing sing like elvis and dance like usher

please. skieving history's class to get front row coldplay tix is so right. so damn right.

and wear frog costumes to exams or protest in central or joining gay parades

or maybe just stick to throwing ourselves into the pool at the height of the summer heat after the last day of class

plesh. this is life.