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

christmas

is

irreplacable.

....everything

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

Young and lofty by Leif Hurton

Kate Moss: Vogue Italia December 2010 (NSFW)

portrait 3 - by anna aden

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
serenity


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.