ran into some well-written piece on asian fashion
let loose some clothe-ridden quotes
that never escaped my mind. my life.
"it never hurts to dress properly for court" - alvin
"theres no right or wrong, but i always buy the right bag." -mum
"no dress defines me. I'm born for dungaress." -pauline
" subtleness." -alvin
"its all about colours" -natalie
"everything goes with clogs" -me
ciao. for now.
9.28.2010
9.25.2010
to anonymity
"to anonymity"
"why is there blood in my heels?"
"tell me if it isnt true: now everyone knows everyone on the patio."
"i like u, but..."
"there's always too much cake but not enough icecream"
"thank you for thinking"
"what are we?"
i wish our hug's tighter our kiss' sweeter we meant more than just a pile of fading memories
i wish you understand how sad it is to me
when i say i start to not remember
which part of your emporio armani jacket smells best
you said you only remembered bits and pieces of the nights
I replayed the scenes for 13 hrs straight on my ride back from london
fearful that once i stopped remembering
the memories will change
you will change
we will change
if it's confusion that fuelled our curious souls
then please spare me the answer.
"why is there blood in my heels?"
"tell me if it isnt true: now everyone knows everyone on the patio."
"i like u, but..."
"there's always too much cake but not enough icecream"
"thank you for thinking"
"what are we?"
i wish our hug's tighter our kiss' sweeter we meant more than just a pile of fading memories
i wish you understand how sad it is to me
when i say i start to not remember
which part of your emporio armani jacket smells best
you said you only remembered bits and pieces of the nights
I replayed the scenes for 13 hrs straight on my ride back from london
fearful that once i stopped remembering
the memories will change
you will change
we will change
if it's confusion that fuelled our curious souls
then please spare me the answer.
9.22.2010
mess
something is seriously unright
maybe its my head
acting like its an over-enthusiastic puppy waiting to be unleashed
and my soul straining to hold on
to some weathered leather belt
its when the hangover never leaves
that you start searching often too frantically
for the drink
that takes you back
way back
to a place named reality.
in 24 hrs
i told her
" we're getting on ok"
" i dont think i like him anymore"
"god this is a mess"
" why"
"i dont think it matters anymore even if we never talk again"
"why isnt he talking to me?"
if i'm one messed up girl
its just a silhouette of some even messier mind.
maybe its my head
acting like its an over-enthusiastic puppy waiting to be unleashed
and my soul straining to hold on
to some weathered leather belt
its when the hangover never leaves
that you start searching often too frantically
for the drink
that takes you back
way back
to a place named reality.
in 24 hrs
i told her
" we're getting on ok"
" i dont think i like him anymore"
"god this is a mess"
" why"
"i dont think it matters anymore even if we never talk again"
"why isnt he talking to me?"
if i'm one messed up girl
its just a silhouette of some even messier mind.
9.15.2010
all i hear is angels crying, why don't they sing instead
wrote so much slept so little on the plane
i love the ipad. thanks steve.
maybe the only flaw - please make it word-doc transferable.
i'm already resenting the mere thought of copying some instantaneous thought.
never go back.
i wrote too bad.
wait. the only normal thing i did after i actually got off the plane (did i not mention the ride itself is utterly abnormal, as well?) - nothing. except i did turn up for classes. sadly, not exactly sober enough to tell whether to take it/leave it. some chinese man squeezing perfect mandarin into some trashy english. i swear the french speak better than he did.
french. i woke up on monday, wondering why i was still in st. regis on rue jean goujon, leaned out of the window almost searching for the familiar red roses. that must be someone muttering french on the other side of the door. wait. or is that mum and her wake up call?
expectations. mayebe i did expect things to return to normal once i get back. home. what is normal anyways. with the room next door empty, one less seat at the dinner table, tear-soaked morning calls from the ukay, even tearier calls at midnight, heart-breaking texts, even more heart-crushing words...
why is my superman hiding behind some corner when i needed him?
the only superman i know, is currently tucked away in UT. he told me life's tough.
maybe life IS tough.
line of the week: don't cry. please. i've been through this shit. fuck 'em who brings you down. no one brings you down. you bring you down.
i hate the sound of my own advice.
feels like i'm on the safe side of the bank
shouting at the drowning to save their own selves
given that i presumed myself to have reached some safeland. maybe i'm struggling an even stronger current.
just that i've grown stronger, blinder, indifferent to it all.
i'm not telling you how to get to the other side.
I'm telling you - there's no other side
we've all plunged ourselves into the river of life
where we need to swim until our last breath
I'm not gonna pretend there is a destination
I'm just teaching you how to swim
heartbreaks make your jigsawed heart break in a more consistent way
so that next time, you can pick 'em up and place them back, more efficiently.
homesickness make you realise the sacredness of mum's screams/tandrums/dad's nags
so that you wouldn't try to substitute home with some oasis
highschool hangover hits you in the head, brings you back to reality, simply tells you to wake up from the college-is-the-time-of-your-life mirage
from my dear recollection of my own freshmen year,
it's more like a 101-how-to-survive-in-hell
and to those who didn't yet/dare to show your tears
maybe you've forgotten how it's like to dream
let your heart sing through foggy eyes..and maybe you'll see forever.
i love the ipad. thanks steve.
maybe the only flaw - please make it word-doc transferable.
i'm already resenting the mere thought of copying some instantaneous thought.
never go back.
i wrote too bad.
wait. the only normal thing i did after i actually got off the plane (did i not mention the ride itself is utterly abnormal, as well?) - nothing. except i did turn up for classes. sadly, not exactly sober enough to tell whether to take it/leave it. some chinese man squeezing perfect mandarin into some trashy english. i swear the french speak better than he did.
french. i woke up on monday, wondering why i was still in st. regis on rue jean goujon, leaned out of the window almost searching for the familiar red roses. that must be someone muttering french on the other side of the door. wait. or is that mum and her wake up call?
expectations. mayebe i did expect things to return to normal once i get back. home. what is normal anyways. with the room next door empty, one less seat at the dinner table, tear-soaked morning calls from the ukay, even tearier calls at midnight, heart-breaking texts, even more heart-crushing words...
why is my superman hiding behind some corner when i needed him?
the only superman i know, is currently tucked away in UT. he told me life's tough.
maybe life IS tough.
line of the week: don't cry. please. i've been through this shit. fuck 'em who brings you down. no one brings you down. you bring you down.
i hate the sound of my own advice.
feels like i'm on the safe side of the bank
shouting at the drowning to save their own selves
given that i presumed myself to have reached some safeland. maybe i'm struggling an even stronger current.
just that i've grown stronger, blinder, indifferent to it all.
i'm not telling you how to get to the other side.
I'm telling you - there's no other side
we've all plunged ourselves into the river of life
where we need to swim until our last breath
I'm not gonna pretend there is a destination
I'm just teaching you how to swim
heartbreaks make your jigsawed heart break in a more consistent way
so that next time, you can pick 'em up and place them back, more efficiently.
homesickness make you realise the sacredness of mum's screams/tandrums/dad's nags
so that you wouldn't try to substitute home with some oasis
highschool hangover hits you in the head, brings you back to reality, simply tells you to wake up from the college-is-the-time-of-your-life mirage
from my dear recollection of my own freshmen year,
it's more like a 101-how-to-survive-in-hell
and to those who didn't yet/dare to show your tears
maybe you've forgotten how it's like to dream
let your heart sing through foggy eyes..and maybe you'll see forever.
9.04.2010
....leave the hurt behind
the applause faded, though still ringing too vividly in thy ears
for once, the chill of the london nites didn't catch me by surprise
the heart is still warm, no, still burning with the intensity
of a love so strong
words so pure
love never dies.
once upon another time,
two girls, hand in hand, mesmerized with some truth so crystal clear
masked under some singing so simply splendid
i can almost see
a smile of understanding
lightening up the moonless sky
love never dies.
after the curtain falls,
i'm just a little girl with a fragile heart
he asked "why me"
he said "its too easy for you to say love"
oh boy,
listen with your heart
and not with your ears
listen to what i'm saying, please don't let my words fool you
if only,
if only...
if only -
you were there
andrew lloyd webber would tell you
everything i can't
and since you can't be there:
for once, the chill of the london nites didn't catch me by surprise
the heart is still warm, no, still burning with the intensity
of a love so strong
words so pure
love never dies.
once upon another time,
two girls, hand in hand, mesmerized with some truth so crystal clear
masked under some singing so simply splendid
i can almost see
a smile of understanding
lightening up the moonless sky
love never dies.
after the curtain falls,
i'm just a little girl with a fragile heart
he asked "why me"
he said "its too easy for you to say love"
oh boy,
listen with your heart
and not with your ears
listen to what i'm saying, please don't let my words fool you
if only,
if only...
if only -
you were there
andrew lloyd webber would tell you
everything i can't
and since you can't be there:
"Love is a curious thing
it often comes disguised.
Look at Love the wrong way,
It goes unrecognised."
"So look with your heart,
and not with your eyes,
The heart understands,
the heart never lies
Believe what it feels
and trust what it shows."
"Look with your heart
The heart always knows
Love is not always beautiful
Not at the start."
"So open your arms
And close your eyes tight
Look with your heart
And when it finds love
Your heart will be right"
it often comes disguised.
Look at Love the wrong way,
It goes unrecognised."
"So look with your heart,
and not with your eyes,
The heart understands,
the heart never lies
Believe what it feels
and trust what it shows."
"Look with your heart
The heart always knows
Love is not always beautiful
Not at the start."
"So open your arms
And close your eyes tight
Look with your heart
And when it finds love
Your heart will be right"
9.03.2010
as said.
today is not writing day.
too little sleep too much on my heart.
please knock on my door some other day
too little sleep too much on my heart.
please knock on my door some other day
9.02.2010
thank you for hurting
not pleased.
nomads raped me blog, left my soul kinda feel searched and stolen.
've been re-reading my posts for quite some time (a thing i'd never usually do. My own words embarass me.), hoping all the time that my words did not deceive me. and that the truth doesn't hurt, even if it means its the secret no more.
4:37 London GMT
I couldn't even bring myself to stay in my dreams for more than 4 hrs
It's always 4, when hans zimmer start to drift into my head
even more unbelievable,
its the 11:37 HK GMT I'm more concerned about
the moment I snapped back to reality
felt angry yesterday, actually a rare emotion I didn't even recognize until now
hands inside military overcoat, MJ scarf hanging loosely around me neck
striding down brook street davis street oxford street then james street
in oh-so-wonderful jeffrey campbells
wonderful vision eh?
but its so cold.
and the london chill left my heart numb.
so done with waiting.
and telling yourself "well, i don't fucking care anyways" at the same time
because while your head starts indoctrinating
your hearts always silently murmurs " it means the world to you, and you know it"
and there,
amongst the wind-blown hair, the frozen heart
the warm surge of tears became my antidote
the wait is worth it.
but I'm done with hoping
when all I need
is not even you
but only your voice.
thank you for hurting.
nomads raped me blog, left my soul kinda feel searched and stolen.
've been re-reading my posts for quite some time (a thing i'd never usually do. My own words embarass me.), hoping all the time that my words did not deceive me. and that the truth doesn't hurt, even if it means its the secret no more.
4:37 London GMT
I couldn't even bring myself to stay in my dreams for more than 4 hrs
It's always 4, when hans zimmer start to drift into my head
even more unbelievable,
its the 11:37 HK GMT I'm more concerned about
the moment I snapped back to reality
felt angry yesterday, actually a rare emotion I didn't even recognize until now
hands inside military overcoat, MJ scarf hanging loosely around me neck
striding down brook street davis street oxford street then james street
in oh-so-wonderful jeffrey campbells
wonderful vision eh?
but its so cold.
and the london chill left my heart numb.
so done with waiting.
and telling yourself "well, i don't fucking care anyways" at the same time
because while your head starts indoctrinating
your hearts always silently murmurs " it means the world to you, and you know it"
and there,
amongst the wind-blown hair, the frozen heart
the warm surge of tears became my antidote
the wait is worth it.
but I'm done with hoping
when all I need
is not even you
but only your voice.
thank you for hurting.
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