goodbyehellotheworldisinsaneanditmakesmesadandiwanttocryandthatmakesmemadbutiambecause soareyouandeveryoneelsehellogoodbye
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Reflections
This year I:
1. Learned that the only way forward is to push
2. And that sometimes you have to stop thinking
3. Ran a 26km race and got fifth
4. Gained an abundance of pimples on my forehead
5. Discovered that there is an underlying, cynical truth to Freud's theories
6. Turned 18 but not into a woman
7. Lost nine of my toenails
8. Realised that I am inherently selfish
9. Realised that I am inherently spiteful
10. Lost self-confidence
11. Gained some weight
12. Found a competitor
13. Started writing prose again
14. Planned the development of my book (I promise it will be published soon)
15. Started a blog
16. Learned French
17. Went to Paris and London
18. Ran in Hyde Park and les Jardins de Tuilleries
19. Joined the gym
20. Gained an obsession over Rafael(s)
21. Started scrapbooking
22. Lost a connection with ( )
23. Stopped caring about ( )
24. Realised how much I miss the people in Saint George's and the familiarity with which I carried myself there.
25. Discovered that the human mind is the most damn fascinating thing in the universe.
26. Become periodically filled with unexplained anger
27. and am confused as to the lack of aetiology of my actions and thoughts
28. Gave up the chance of ( )
29. Started spending incessant amounts of money on unnecessary things
30. and an incessant amount of energy on futile thoughts
31. Learned that I never do what I need
32. and always do what I want
33. and the fact that I am perfectly aware of what I need to do
34. but I never do it.
35. And I bloody well learned that in actual fact,
36. I have learned nothing at all.
1. Learned that the only way forward is to push
2. And that sometimes you have to stop thinking
3. Ran a 26km race and got fifth
4. Gained an abundance of pimples on my forehead
5. Discovered that there is an underlying, cynical truth to Freud's theories
6. Turned 18 but not into a woman
7. Lost nine of my toenails
8. Realised that I am inherently selfish
9. Realised that I am inherently spiteful
10. Lost self-confidence
11. Gained some weight
12. Found a competitor
13. Started writing prose again
14. Planned the development of my book (I promise it will be published soon)
15. Started a blog
16. Learned French
17. Went to Paris and London
18. Ran in Hyde Park and les Jardins de Tuilleries
19. Joined the gym
20. Gained an obsession over Rafael(s)
21. Started scrapbooking
22. Lost a connection with ( )
23. Stopped caring about ( )
24. Realised how much I miss the people in Saint George's and the familiarity with which I carried myself there.
25. Discovered that the human mind is the most damn fascinating thing in the universe.
26. Become periodically filled with unexplained anger
27. and am confused as to the lack of aetiology of my actions and thoughts
28. Gave up the chance of ( )
29. Started spending incessant amounts of money on unnecessary things
30. and an incessant amount of energy on futile thoughts
31. Learned that I never do what I need
32. and always do what I want
33. and the fact that I am perfectly aware of what I need to do
34. but I never do it.
35. And I bloody well learned that in actual fact,
36. I have learned nothing at all.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Fairground
The world is spinning around me on this ghastly carousel. A flashing light circulates nearby, trailing the circumference of my limited vision. The night is blurred, imperceptibly, and even if you wait, daylight never comes. It is the place where time ceases to make sense, where there is pointless, rote repetition of the restricted repertoire you possess as part of your meaningless endeavours. Death. Think about it all the time. Sweet and black, thick and potent: like coffee. Trickle down your throat. A drop of nervous sweat down your temple. Gulp and see the way your Adam's apple bobs, up and down like a float stranded in the middle of the sea. The sea, the sea is the sky and the sky is the sea because both are grey with no clouds. Endless horizon; and no dawn.
Sit here on this carousel with me and watch the world go by. You can take the unicorn, if you like. Mine has a broken horn; and shredded wings. Torn from the back, like the way Satan's fingers dug into the recesses of my spine, between the shoulder blades. Scratching; clawing; gauging. Flesh from my back. Blood and death; like coffee. Switch the button on, let the carousel dance too, so now even we are moving against the world as it zooms past in the opposite direction.
You are only a figure, not a companion, as you sit there on your gleaming white unicorn. Feeling the wind beneath its fur and feathers, it is starting to become alive, a hoof poised, ready to take flight. And me, slumped back downwards, forwards, every which way like a pathetic rubber glove. Stretched and insipid. Fill me with water so I bloat and then burst me so I cry.
Look, look, I see you are going to fly. This carousel is spinning with me on it and goodbye, you're gone, you've left, but oh who will sit with me now -
Sit here on this carousel with me and watch the world go by. You can take the unicorn, if you like. Mine has a broken horn; and shredded wings. Torn from the back, like the way Satan's fingers dug into the recesses of my spine, between the shoulder blades. Scratching; clawing; gauging. Flesh from my back. Blood and death; like coffee. Switch the button on, let the carousel dance too, so now even we are moving against the world as it zooms past in the opposite direction.
You are only a figure, not a companion, as you sit there on your gleaming white unicorn. Feeling the wind beneath its fur and feathers, it is starting to become alive, a hoof poised, ready to take flight. And me, slumped back downwards, forwards, every which way like a pathetic rubber glove. Stretched and insipid. Fill me with water so I bloat and then burst me so I cry.
Look, look, I see you are going to fly. This carousel is spinning with me on it and goodbye, you're gone, you've left, but oh who will sit with me now -
Angry
Confusion burns in my throat like a searing gulp of boiling fire. Charred skin. Flesh becomes red, and angry, and the soul within threatens to explode. With each second the tick beats in the brain, blood pounds like a clock's hands. My hand is shaking; shaking with fear and anger and the effort of retaining my composure. My mind is screaming; screaming a high-frequency shriek, and my eardrums are about to break, and I am caught right in the middle, clipped with a clothespeg onto a hanging line, a death line, and soon it will all be over.
So hanging here I become a scarecrow. Come peck my eyes. I will be your carrion, my meat your sustenance, my pulsing vein your gut. I am throbbing with the heat of anxiety, blistering and burnt in the scorching sun. Charred black. Everything is black. Heart, soul, and viscera.
I am a testament of a living failure that will soon be dead. Tomorrow you will awake and find that the scarecrow in your garden set fire to the flowers, and what is left is a barren field. Pick up a twig and smell the guilt. Feel the weight of the earth like heavy, cloying soil pressing down on you, the pressure of the entire ground suffocating your slowing chest: but soon it will all be over, when life ceases to make sense. Because now, everything is too clear, too painful, and so I must disappear to evade the pain; because I am a coward, not a fighter.
This scarecrow here is shedding a tear. A lone droplet that slides down splintered wood and rotting mildew, to the leg, no not blood trickling down no, never that, but a pure, clear bauble of sadness: crystallised; irrevocable.
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So hanging here I become a scarecrow. Come peck my eyes. I will be your carrion, my meat your sustenance, my pulsing vein your gut. I am throbbing with the heat of anxiety, blistering and burnt in the scorching sun. Charred black. Everything is black. Heart, soul, and viscera.
I am a testament of a living failure that will soon be dead. Tomorrow you will awake and find that the scarecrow in your garden set fire to the flowers, and what is left is a barren field. Pick up a twig and smell the guilt. Feel the weight of the earth like heavy, cloying soil pressing down on you, the pressure of the entire ground suffocating your slowing chest: but soon it will all be over, when life ceases to make sense. Because now, everything is too clear, too painful, and so I must disappear to evade the pain; because I am a coward, not a fighter.
This scarecrow here is shedding a tear. A lone droplet that slides down splintered wood and rotting mildew, to the leg, no not blood trickling down no, never that, but a pure, clear bauble of sadness: crystallised; irrevocable.
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Sunday, December 21, 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Trapped
- an animal in a cage cannot move a fraction because the door is locked and the only way out is through the bars, which are inches apart and that is why animals must be small, miniscule, tiny enough to slip through and away and escape -
Friday, December 19, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
It is when I feel the most that I must become stone. That I must harden myself into an impassable, inanimate object that ceases to feel. Stones cannot break, so neither must I. I must change into a crystallised, solidified form that does not ebb with the warmth of emotion like hot blood flowing through veins. I am tasting the bitterness, the black coffee dregs that last indefinitely on your tongue. The pain lingers, tantalisingly slow and delicate like a ballerina dancing in a music box. You draped the noose around my neck and pulled it tight. Now I cannot breathe.
I suffocate.
A happy face is a clown mask with a fake smile pulled up to the ears. Stretched, like the twisting of skin. But beneath the mask everything is charred; black; burned ashes. What is this monster doing inside me? Disguised as a teddy bear but hiding the evil hands, the haunting voice, the figure with the knife.
I suffocate.
A happy face is a clown mask with a fake smile pulled up to the ears. Stretched, like the twisting of skin. But beneath the mask everything is charred; black; burned ashes. What is this monster doing inside me? Disguised as a teddy bear but hiding the evil hands, the haunting voice, the figure with the knife.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
An Impossible Possibility
I stopped wondering for many days after that night I touched your face and your words left a burning sear on my heart. I hated you for a long time after that because I was so angry at the self-sacrifice and depth with which I gave myself to you and your resulting indifference. My heart was stifled because I silenced its anguished cries, and I became hardened stone.
But now each time I look at you I can see again the unsure smile, the tentative questioning of what is going on in my head. Every time I see her a thought runs through my mind: of the warmth you feel when you put your arm around her waist, your eyes closed as you smell the shampoo in her hair, the quiet conversations you have with your gazes as you sit in silence in your car.
I wonder if I could ever be her. If we could have the same intimacy I longed for, once in the past. I don't wish for it any longer because I know what you are like now, but I can't help but wonder about the sweetness and goodness I saw; whether it could be prolonged and sustained; whether I could ever learn to give myself to you again.
I shut myself up when you are around because it's still painful sometimes to know we will never sit together and love each other and be one. I wonder what it'd be like to reach out and touch the dimple in your cheek, smooth the crease on your forehead when you are concentrating, close your light brown eyes shut with my fingers and feel your hands pressing my ribcage. I wonder what it would be like if we grew together as friends, and shared worries and hopes and fears straight and raw from the heart; not as we do now - exchanging strained and polite hellos and composed faces; and all I am thinking of when I see the back of your head on the stairs is "Are you wondering what my hair would feel like under your fingers? How my voice would sound like on the telephone? Whether I look beautiful when I sleep?"
I wish I could open your heart and read it like a book, ( ). I know you have a million things waiting to be said.
But now each time I look at you I can see again the unsure smile, the tentative questioning of what is going on in my head. Every time I see her a thought runs through my mind: of the warmth you feel when you put your arm around her waist, your eyes closed as you smell the shampoo in her hair, the quiet conversations you have with your gazes as you sit in silence in your car.
I wonder if I could ever be her. If we could have the same intimacy I longed for, once in the past. I don't wish for it any longer because I know what you are like now, but I can't help but wonder about the sweetness and goodness I saw; whether it could be prolonged and sustained; whether I could ever learn to give myself to you again.
I shut myself up when you are around because it's still painful sometimes to know we will never sit together and love each other and be one. I wonder what it'd be like to reach out and touch the dimple in your cheek, smooth the crease on your forehead when you are concentrating, close your light brown eyes shut with my fingers and feel your hands pressing my ribcage. I wonder what it would be like if we grew together as friends, and shared worries and hopes and fears straight and raw from the heart; not as we do now - exchanging strained and polite hellos and composed faces; and all I am thinking of when I see the back of your head on the stairs is "Are you wondering what my hair would feel like under your fingers? How my voice would sound like on the telephone? Whether I look beautiful when I sleep?"
I wish I could open your heart and read it like a book, ( ). I know you have a million things waiting to be said.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Stop and look at the little girl lost in the crowd. Forehead wrinkled like a piece of crumpled paper: you can smooth out the creases but they will never be erased. Shoulders slumped forward, lips pulled down with the weight of being alive. Take in her clenched fists, knuckles turned white with anger and fear. Hate. Do you see into her heart, see the scum coating her beating pulse, the hands of her life-clock encrusted with the thick strangling cords that are growing around her spine, tighter and tighter and pulling taut -
- until she is bent backwards like a nutshell cracked open, bones breaking with the burden of expectation. It is not worry about the colour of her dress or the ice cream stain on her cheek that plagues her, but of the remote possibility that in this crowd she has lost herself, her tiny footsteps becoming ever more silent as she ceases to be visible to passers-by. Always smiling, always pleasing; but if you only knew that each curtsy masked a dance of anger waiting to be performed, you would realise that behind the child's mask there is a monster who is feeding on obsessions and impossibilities. Behind this facade of laughter and complacency the little girl is dying. Watch the veins turn blue with cold as the blood ebbs away from the skin, backtracking right to her beating heart, as her fingers fold in on themselves and she is bent over like a boomerang. Watch the writing on her skin slowly disppear. Watch her head turn sideways until her profile is silhoutted against the glaring red skirt of a woman behind her, and then watch as she enfolds into a thin line.
Stop and look at the little girl lost in the crowd. Stop and look at me.
- until she is bent backwards like a nutshell cracked open, bones breaking with the burden of expectation. It is not worry about the colour of her dress or the ice cream stain on her cheek that plagues her, but of the remote possibility that in this crowd she has lost herself, her tiny footsteps becoming ever more silent as she ceases to be visible to passers-by. Always smiling, always pleasing; but if you only knew that each curtsy masked a dance of anger waiting to be performed, you would realise that behind the child's mask there is a monster who is feeding on obsessions and impossibilities. Behind this facade of laughter and complacency the little girl is dying. Watch the veins turn blue with cold as the blood ebbs away from the skin, backtracking right to her beating heart, as her fingers fold in on themselves and she is bent over like a boomerang. Watch the writing on her skin slowly disppear. Watch her head turn sideways until her profile is silhoutted against the glaring red skirt of a woman behind her, and then watch as she enfolds into a thin line.
Stop and look at the little girl lost in the crowd. Stop and look at me.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Is there so much that this heart can contain? A burden to bear, not understanding where or what or why one feels such. When I lift my face I feel no remorse nor fear, when I bow I am lost and alone. If the body bends back and away, the soul ceases to pray. A flicker, a thought, a passing moment. Fleetingly precious and incomprehensible, but I no longer felt it. The wind in my hair is a long, enduring slap to my face. This ache, right here; here, is throbbing. Overcast clouds on a grey day, on the brink of rain, a downpour, an inundation of failure. I am a failure. Put me in a box and tie me up with a ribbon. I am the worst present you will ever receive. These claws scratch at my eyeballs and I am knotted sideways, hands under legs over head. A blanket on a bed is not a crib, a smothering pillow is a coffin. Lay a black rose on my breast. My mouth curling upwards in a smile is an upside-down frown. Peel off this mask from my face, bind me with ice. Burn my heart so it freezes, so I wake up and realise this is not a dream, and life is ending. Open again, the closed door, the barred path. Let me walk it. I want to leave footsteps, and I want to dance with You again. Wipe this droplet from my eyelash; it sits too comfortably there. I am a baby, but I have seen too much of the world.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Run
the ache that
sears through this
delicate arch;
not a sense of pain but
a source of satisfaction:
with each step,
a gentle press on
the blood that beats
through this sole soul,
as i tap out music:
with these feet that
are my wings.
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sears through this
delicate arch;
not a sense of pain but
a source of satisfaction:
with each step,
a gentle press on
the blood that beats
through this sole soul,
as i tap out music:
with these feet that
are my wings.
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161108
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
in the sweltering rain,
i stand defiant;
a tear-bead,
cradled in the curl of an eyelash.
no salt on my lips,
only the traces of
a grazing finger:
brushed so gently
against my cheek.
in the pouring sunlight,
it was the (brackets)
of loneliness,
that kept me from
melting; becoming an
incessant puddle,
that drips from your eye
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i stand defiant;
a tear-bead,
cradled in the curl of an eyelash.
no salt on my lips,
only the traces of
a grazing finger:
brushed so gently
against my cheek.
in the pouring sunlight,
it was the (brackets)
of loneliness,
that kept me from
melting; becoming an
incessant puddle,
that drips from your eye
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121108
Monday, November 10, 2008
Ice
from this pollex of frostbite
nails turn blue along the
rivers running between
pale sin that grows grey
as the hedges of burning
frost bloom;
bouquets of white crystal flowers
sparkling with the vengeance
of a deadened winter rose,
doomed to be forever enclosed
in this frozen case of
glass; that reflects the face
of the woman-child who
stares
back at me
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nails turn blue along the
rivers running between
pale sin that grows grey
as the hedges of burning
frost bloom;
bouquets of white crystal flowers
sparkling with the vengeance
of a deadened winter rose,
doomed to be forever enclosed
in this frozen case of
glass; that reflects the face
of the woman-child who
stares
back at me
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101108
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Friday, November 7, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Poems
the dreams
fell on me like
angel dust
and i was turning
so fast i
could not stop,
in this world of stars
where lovers orbit
the earth like moons
I was caught,
spinning my own circles,
feet tapping galaxies
and comets filling the sky.
I still do not know why
I had those dreams
(and still)
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i wish to part this crimson curtain
so heavy with the blood drip -
ping from the tapestry
and chords of string
pulling at my limbs so they
s t r e t c h
and i am spread across
the stage like a carpet of veins,
throbbing,
each pulse of life a shred of agony
paper skin so taut,
and finally tearing,
ripping,
giving way,
a (hole)
where a heart used to beat,
like a window
to a river of blue.
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091008
fell on me like
angel dust
and i was turning
so fast i
could not stop,
in this world of stars
where lovers orbit
the earth like moons
I was caught,
spinning my own circles,
feet tapping galaxies
and comets filling the sky.
I still do not know why
I had those dreams
(and still)
1755
160908
i wish to part this crimson curtain
so heavy with the blood drip -
ping from the tapestry
and chords of string
pulling at my limbs so they
s t r e t c h
and i am spread across
the stage like a carpet of veins,
throbbing,
each pulse of life a shred of agony
paper skin so taut,
and finally tearing,
ripping,
giving way,
a (hole)
where a heart used to beat,
like a window
to a river of blue.
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091008
did you see past the veils
of mist that i wove
around my face and hands
such delicate traceries
like spiderwebs,
those reveries i spin
everyday
in my head and on my heart
i etch your name
into a corner of the wall
amidst the shadowed shelves,
often forgotten,
but waiting to be read.
i am the midnight rose
that lies black on your breast
pressing close,
against your ragged brea –
ths / til’ i drink you in.
this deadened night,
i am the sweet cloying smell
of jasmine,
in the morning you will not find
me
wrapping my stem around you,
but the burn of rubber on tar.
leaves crackle underfoot,
a door is left ajar –
there is no gentleness in this endeavour,
not mine.
the world always flies by
toofastinablur
and even before the
dawn starts to slur
its way across the sky,
(i am already gone)
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Thursday, October 2, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
After a long time
When turkeys have sex, they think of swans
Don't be so humble. You're not that great.
He was a wise man who invented God. -Plato
Plato is a bore. -Nietzsche
Cogito ergo spud. I think, therefore I yam. -Graffito
Don't be so humble. You're not that great.
He was a wise man who invented God. -Plato
Plato is a bore. -Nietzsche
Cogito ergo spud. I think, therefore I yam. -Graffito
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Mon anniversaire!
YAYY I'm 18 :D
But really, does it make a difference? I am the same person. And the whole concept of birthdays is rather.. overrated, no? Why can't the day I became a life be counted as more important? Birthdays are just.. when someone comes into the world, but we're kicking and breathing long before that.
Anyway enough of my jargon
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU TO EVERYONE FOR TODAY <3 ME LOVE. A LOT. You guys mean so much to me and I'd be empty and alone and horrible without all of you.
Your presence, hugs, gifts and cards were absolutely lovely.
P.S.: To anyone who's thinking of watching Zohan, don't.
But really, does it make a difference? I am the same person. And the whole concept of birthdays is rather.. overrated, no? Why can't the day I became a life be counted as more important? Birthdays are just.. when someone comes into the world, but we're kicking and breathing long before that.
Anyway enough of my jargon
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU TO EVERYONE FOR TODAY <3 ME LOVE. A LOT. You guys mean so much to me and I'd be empty and alone and horrible without all of you.
Your presence, hugs, gifts and cards were absolutely lovely.
P.S.: To anyone who's thinking of watching Zohan, don't.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Conversations
Are you not afraid of me, little one?
As I rush at you, imposing:
Yet you gaze at me, imploring,
Your big, bright round eyes
So innocent and clear.
So untouched by the solemnity
That resides in the adult heart.
You are blessed because of your innocence,
Once you know what it is like to be human,
The more questions bring the more ignorance.
Child, in your heart,
You possess a form of transcendence
That I have lost in adulthood
And I continue to flounder,
Not knowing what is right or wrong.
Connections; severed.
Reverence, broken.
Am I coming to a sharp turn in the bend
Or a dead end?
Perhaps in the clarity of your eyes,
So sure of the security of your safe world,
I will find the answer.
1842 240808
Feet blur on gravel. I know the sounds of each house, the sight of each old man pruning the grass. I recognise the same song being played on the piano, it does not do Beethoven justice. I smell fat frying in a pan, the sizzle of flames. Why do I turn corners so fast? Where is all this anger coming from? Why is it every time I open my mouth what comes out is a scream? How do I articulate this perpetual feeling that burns searingly in my head?
8 minute mark. I turn the same corner. I see the same fence, the same coloured gate. In a world of such familiar things, where is the Thing that should be most familiar? I have lost It. I used to see it in flowers, in the salmon pink of sunset, as I lowered my head in prayer. Now I walk with my head held high, and when it touches the ground it is the world I am thinking of.
Wind flies through my hair. Is this is a sin? Can I tell you all my hopes and fears? Will you answer me? Please answer me. I feel so scared. Hold my heart in Your hand. I am forever Yours.
As I rush at you, imposing:
Yet you gaze at me, imploring,
Your big, bright round eyes
So innocent and clear.
So untouched by the solemnity
That resides in the adult heart.
You are blessed because of your innocence,
Once you know what it is like to be human,
The more questions bring the more ignorance.
Child, in your heart,
You possess a form of transcendence
That I have lost in adulthood
And I continue to flounder,
Not knowing what is right or wrong.
Connections; severed.
Reverence, broken.
Am I coming to a sharp turn in the bend
Or a dead end?
Perhaps in the clarity of your eyes,
So sure of the security of your safe world,
I will find the answer.
1842 240808
Feet blur on gravel. I know the sounds of each house, the sight of each old man pruning the grass. I recognise the same song being played on the piano, it does not do Beethoven justice. I smell fat frying in a pan, the sizzle of flames. Why do I turn corners so fast? Where is all this anger coming from? Why is it every time I open my mouth what comes out is a scream? How do I articulate this perpetual feeling that burns searingly in my head?
8 minute mark. I turn the same corner. I see the same fence, the same coloured gate. In a world of such familiar things, where is the Thing that should be most familiar? I have lost It. I used to see it in flowers, in the salmon pink of sunset, as I lowered my head in prayer. Now I walk with my head held high, and when it touches the ground it is the world I am thinking of.
Wind flies through my hair. Is this is a sin? Can I tell you all my hopes and fears? Will you answer me? Please answer me. I feel so scared. Hold my heart in Your hand. I am forever Yours.
Sunday
1. Kinda pissed cos' I wanted to complete at least a 21 km run before I turned 18 and I still haven't done that. I have 6 days left and school's starting so I don't think I'll be able to do it. Missed my chance and now I have to live with it. :( Saddddddddddddddd. Not used to not doing what I plan.
2. This week's mileage was 53km which is ... sufficiently okay but it was spread out over one whole week. People run that in a span of a day. Makes me feel so damn inadequate.
3. __________ at _________ and _________
4. Need to do work :(
5. Not doing work :( :(
6. I love Life Breath by Prana.. Been listening to it over and over again. Right after I wake up and right before I go to bed.
7. Un tatou: An armadillo.
8. Yesterday forgot to mention that I received an extremely lovely birthday card from Amy Lee the wonderful devilish jewellery-making sexy missus. LOL thank you darling.
9. Review Exercise 30 yet to be done.
10. EE yet to be polished. Right now it's just fking drivel.
11. Bio yet to be read (PCR etc.)
12. Chem yet to be understood (chemical, acid-base and redox equilibria)
13. French vocabulary yet to be memorised
14. Psychology yet to be revised.
15. US Open starting tomorrow. Nadal-crazed nights recommence.
2. This week's mileage was 53km which is ... sufficiently okay but it was spread out over one whole week. People run that in a span of a day. Makes me feel so damn inadequate.
3. __________ at _________ and _________
4. Need to do work :(
5. Not doing work :( :(
6. I love Life Breath by Prana.. Been listening to it over and over again. Right after I wake up and right before I go to bed.
7. Un tatou: An armadillo.
8. Yesterday forgot to mention that I received an extremely lovely birthday card from Amy Lee the wonderful devilish jewellery-making sexy missus. LOL thank you darling.
9. Review Exercise 30 yet to be done.
10. EE yet to be polished. Right now it's just fking drivel.
11. Bio yet to be read (PCR etc.)
12. Chem yet to be understood (chemical, acid-base and redox equilibria)
13. French vocabulary yet to be memorised
14. Psychology yet to be revised.
15. US Open starting tomorrow. Nadal-crazed nights recommence.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Saturday
Hello
Morning run.
Tutoring at CPS.
Scrapbooking at Smidapaper.
Starbucks (Americano).
Watched/watching Olympics.
What I should be doing:
Math/French/Chem/Bio practice
English chapter by chapter commentary for Grapes of Wrath
Psychology revision
What I did not do:
Everything I should have
Morning run.
Tutoring at CPS.
Scrapbooking at Smidapaper.
Starbucks (Americano).
Watched/watching Olympics.
What I should be doing:
Math/French/Chem/Bio practice
English chapter by chapter commentary for Grapes of Wrath
Psychology revision
What I did not do:
Everything I should have
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Special Birthday Post
To: ALY
Happy Birthday wonderful wonderful wonderful person who is super damn strong internally (I think externally I got more muscles kua) and has a really determined spirit when facing anything thrown at her. I love you so so so much you don't know how much! Being friends with you is beautifulamazingperfect. Throughout the years we've known each other, we have both grown and learnt so much about life, love, friends. Thank you so much for supporting me throughout everything, all my nonsense and crazy shit and I love your mum as well she's so awesome. You are really understanding and you make me believe in myself. You really have no idea how much I appreciate it my dear girl. I love talking with you on the phone, those random, occasional 1 hour chats when both of us feel lonely. I love laughing with you about all sorts of stupid nonsense which doesn't make sense (By the way your laughing stamina is better than my running stamina... 2 full periods of Science non-stop laughing about nothing at all, damn chun la). Our friendship has been, is and will be really special because nothing can ever measure up to all the experiences and memories we've shared. I feel sad because we're not in our little group at the back of 5 Akik where I always cannot see anything cos' Jiun Mei is so freaking tall and blocks me all the time by waving her hands like a siao cha boh. I miss the moments when you and Jiun Mei cannot stop talking and I get so irritated then you all kacau me by imitating my face. I miss being Mak Janggut. I miss sitting down with you guys during recess, you and your transparent Tupperware with the pink cover and something always freshly baked from home. I miss walking with you aimlessly in school when we don't feel like staying in class and just needed to get out. I miss being cute. I miss being able to say I'm cute and not care what anyone else thinks cos' you guys are so used to me being so damn freaking perasan 24/7. I miss complaining about teachers with you all. I miss sitting with you in the lab where I always see your perfectly wrapped books with your Pilot gel pens and the writing so neat and nice compared to mine comot everywhere, buku tak jaga, purposely go tear textbook pages, bla bla bla. You're such an amazing individual and I know I've said it countless times but it really is so great being your friend because you are one of the few who accepts me and knows me inside out and realises what I really am like. Thank you for protecting me when I was vulnerable. Thank you for helping me up when I fell. You are beautiful, inside out, upside down, and always will be. I love you (a lot).
Love,
The damn cutest person in the world
Love,
The damn cutest person in the world
Sunday Morning
Hello people sorry for the lapse in ranting.
Anyway
Yesterday was Saturday
So in the morning, my usual 15km.
Then bla bla bla until around 5.45 p.m.
Got ready for Disted prom thingamijica
Proms are really not my kind of thing
And I feel really guilty because
( )
But anyway
Here are some pics:
Yea....
I don't really know what else to say about it except that the MC was freaking smokinnnnnn'. But his jokes were super lame. LA. LA. LA.
NADAL IS PLAYING AT 3.30 P.M. (SCHEDULED TIME BUT MAY BE LATER). I can't wait. He's going to play Gonzalez who actually cheated during the semi-finals cos' the ball hit his racquet and went out but the umpire didn't see it and thought Blake had hit it out. Blake was furious. If Gonzalez does that to Nadal I swear I'll kill him. Nadal was like so sweet during the semi-finals: the ball hit the side of his racquet and it was a mishit cos' it went really high and no one thought it would land in so Djokovic was already walking to the other side of the court and suddenly the ball landed in the court... And Nadal apologised profusely. See he's such a gentleman. He cried when they interviewed him!!!!!!!
Here's what he's been up to off court:
So freaking adorable right??
Anyway I stink like... I really stink, period. So I'm going to go shower then get ready for RPM :D
See you laterrrrrr!
P.S: cofffeeeee
Anyway
Yesterday was Saturday
So in the morning, my usual 15km.
Then bla bla bla until around 5.45 p.m.
Got ready for Disted prom thingamijica
Proms are really not my kind of thing
And I feel really guilty because
( )
But anyway
Here are some pics:
Yea....
I don't really know what else to say about it except that the MC was freaking smokinnnnnn'. But his jokes were super lame. LA. LA. LA.
NADAL IS PLAYING AT 3.30 P.M. (SCHEDULED TIME BUT MAY BE LATER). I can't wait. He's going to play Gonzalez who actually cheated during the semi-finals cos' the ball hit his racquet and went out but the umpire didn't see it and thought Blake had hit it out. Blake was furious. If Gonzalez does that to Nadal I swear I'll kill him. Nadal was like so sweet during the semi-finals: the ball hit the side of his racquet and it was a mishit cos' it went really high and no one thought it would land in so Djokovic was already walking to the other side of the court and suddenly the ball landed in the court... And Nadal apologised profusely. See he's such a gentleman. He cried when they interviewed him!!!!!!!
Here's what he's been up to off court:
So freaking adorable right??
Anyway I stink like... I really stink, period. So I'm going to go shower then get ready for RPM :D
See you laterrrrrr!
P.S: cofffeeeee
Thursday, August 14, 2008
They're finally going to show the Olympics tennis! Honestly. Nadal's is fourth match on Centre Court, first one starts at 4.00 p.m. so not sure what time his will be. I'll be glued to the television anyway.
Athletics start tomorrow.
Can't wait till Sarah B gets here. POWER STRETCH WOMAN! Damn funny la. "I want to go for Freestyler!" "It's a spinning class." "Oh. Let's go for Power Stretch!"
Haze today was really bad, couldn't even see the hills.
Mum said she bought me a scrapbook album, some papers and accessories, so can't wait till she gets back on Sunday.
I only slept for 5 hours :(
and I need to do more work but I really don't know what else there is left to do.
Reading a book called The Truth about Sparrows. So far, it is really similar to the Grapes of Wrath except that's it written from a 12 year old girl's point of view. Damn boring lah.
Meow meow kitty kitty meow meow
Athletics start tomorrow.
Can't wait till Sarah B gets here. POWER STRETCH WOMAN! Damn funny la. "I want to go for Freestyler!" "It's a spinning class." "Oh. Let's go for Power Stretch!"
Haze today was really bad, couldn't even see the hills.
Mum said she bought me a scrapbook album, some papers and accessories, so can't wait till she gets back on Sunday.
I only slept for 5 hours :(
and I need to do more work but I really don't know what else there is left to do.
Reading a book called The Truth about Sparrows. So far, it is really similar to the Grapes of Wrath except that's it written from a 12 year old girl's point of view. Damn boring lah.
Meow meow kitty kitty meow meow
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Tuesday
Perfection
I saw:
a flitting sparrow
a fallen leaf
a forlorn monkey
my feet
a white cloud
a dead pigeon
a tar road
a blade of grass
a red light
a plume of smoke
a man and a woman
a grey sky
haze
a flitting sparrow
a fallen leaf
a forlorn monkey
my feet
a white cloud
a dead pigeon
a tar road
a blade of grass
a red light
a plume of smoke
a man and a woman
a grey sky
haze
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Saturday was:
6.00 a.m.: Prayers. Breakfast.
6.50 a.m.: Botanical Gardens. 16km. Niresh and a book. (Utterly ignored due to concentration on run.) Femur twinge.
9.00 a.m: Shower. Starbucks. Niresh and coffee. Lots of words. Both spoken and read (To Kill a Mockingbird.) Thoroughly entertaining conversation. Tons of information gleaned.
12.00 p.m.: Home. Lunch.
1.30 p.m.: Smidapaper. Scrap. Relax.
4.30 p.m.: Photo frame shopping with Sammie.
7.00 p.m.: Home. Dinner.
9.08 p.m.: Currently here.
Overall, satisfying day.
6.50 a.m.: Botanical Gardens. 16km. Niresh and a book. (Utterly ignored due to concentration on run.) Femur twinge.
9.00 a.m: Shower. Starbucks. Niresh and coffee. Lots of words. Both spoken and read (To Kill a Mockingbird.) Thoroughly entertaining conversation. Tons of information gleaned.
12.00 p.m.: Home. Lunch.
1.30 p.m.: Smidapaper. Scrap. Relax.
4.30 p.m.: Photo frame shopping with Sammie.
7.00 p.m.: Home. Dinner.
9.08 p.m.: Currently here.
Overall, satisfying day.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Thursday
I don't think there's a song more beautiful than the Subuh morning call for prayer
P.S: Niresh, you'd better not disagree with this :P
P.S: Niresh, you'd better not disagree with this :P
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Quotes.
"You are not thinking. You are merely being logical."
Neils Bohr, 1885-1962 to Albert Einstein
"We are never more true to ourselves than when we are inconsistent."
Oscar Wilde, 1854 - 1900
"Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision for the limits of the world."
Arthur Schopenhauer, 1788 - 1860
And my personal favourite:
"The greatest thing a human soul ever does is to see something, and to tell what it saw in a plain way.. To see clearly is poetry, prophecy and religion - all in one."
John Ruskin, 1819 - 1900
Neils Bohr, 1885-1962 to Albert Einstein
"We are never more true to ourselves than when we are inconsistent."
Oscar Wilde, 1854 - 1900
"Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision for the limits of the world."
Arthur Schopenhauer, 1788 - 1860
And my personal favourite:
"The greatest thing a human soul ever does is to see something, and to tell what it saw in a plain way.. To see clearly is poetry, prophecy and religion - all in one."
John Ruskin, 1819 - 1900
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
A Question
What happens when everyday you promise yourself never to do something ever again and the next day you do it?
Monday, August 4, 2008
Fact.
Puffer fish belong to the family Tetraodontidae and are considered a great delicacy in Japan. However, their skin and several organs contain a toxin called tetrodotoxin that blocks sodium channels and prevents them from opening. (If you didn't know, sodium channels must be open to allow transmission of sodium ions into cytoplasm from outside due to the presence of an electrochemical gradient). If a person swallows this toxin, their neurones become unable to transmit action potentials, and they die.
Everything that has gentleness in it is beautified, and whatever lacks it is spoiled.
Everything that has gentleness in it is beautified, and whatever lacks it is spoiled.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
the writer should not be forced
to write,
nor the poet
to rhyme.
the dancer must dance
of her own free will;
liberated,
rather than restricted.
the singer must sing
with her heart,
and the painter has to paint
not darkness but colour;
not blackness but light.
the musician should not be bound
by the notes of his melody,
nor the sculpturer
by his lifeless statue.
the observer must look
beyond the mere art,
to even get a glimpse
of the hidden meaning,
for does the lover not
love from within?
0740
030808
as she dances,
she becomes more than a dancer.
she becomes a curve
of perfection,
supple limbs, and
outstretched hands -
embracing the sky.
her body is a work of art,
a beautiful machine
set in motion,
her movement a rhythm,
her footsteps a melody.
a tendril of hair
escapes behind her ear.
her eyes closed,
a testament of rapture.
her hip so gracefully swung
to the underlying tune
of her heart's song.
i watch her,
and i can only dream,
of ever being a dancer,
myself.
0756
030808
First one I got the first few lines in my head while I was running this morning, I started while it was really dark and I ran and rose with the sun, but I couldn't bloody see the sky burst into flame and colour because of the damned haze, so that sucked.
Then I came back and wrote the next one while I was watching the Nadal-Djokovic match which MY MAN played rather horribly (1-6, 5-7). I guess he had a lot of pressure on him since he's now number one.
(Priya thank you for the poster!!! *kisses you and it* and for everything else!)
..and guys (Jing Min, Su, Jas, Priya) - thank you for the jelly cake.. I'm happy I ate it! It's A STEP. *cheers* and I did it for you and for me too! And I was very happy. Yay! I'm glad I feel good about it. I know I'm a weird ass freako but.. any confrontation with BREAKING A RULE is met with guilt and self-condemnation.. But I felt really good about what I did, and I'm really touched you guys thought of me quite so much. (Please expect a hand-made card each quite soon :P )
As for rest of weekend, well..
Saw Prof. Amir about my bones which are marginally worse than a post-menopausal woman's. Heh. So now they want to pump me with oestrogen. No way am I going to be bloody pumped with oestrogen! Did you know that there was this dude who started growing tits and they did some research and realised that it was because he'd been eating a lot of chicken neck (they inject oestrogen into chicken neck). And I don't want my tits to grow any larger, thank you very much.
Today is a bloody lazy day. Danny planned for me, him and his gf (who is taller than his short ass btw) to go play badminton but he being a lazy bum decided not to go. He also said that The Mummy is "no sucking good shit" which I did not comprehend and thus did not bother to reply.
Currently reading: Khaled Hosseini - A Thousand Splendid Suns
Je m'ennuie. Ugh.
to write,
nor the poet
to rhyme.
the dancer must dance
of her own free will;
liberated,
rather than restricted.
the singer must sing
with her heart,
and the painter has to paint
not darkness but colour;
not blackness but light.
the musician should not be bound
by the notes of his melody,
nor the sculpturer
by his lifeless statue.
the observer must look
beyond the mere art,
to even get a glimpse
of the hidden meaning,
for does the lover not
love from within?
0740
030808
as she dances,
she becomes more than a dancer.
she becomes a curve
of perfection,
supple limbs, and
outstretched hands -
embracing the sky.
her body is a work of art,
a beautiful machine
set in motion,
her movement a rhythm,
her footsteps a melody.
a tendril of hair
escapes behind her ear.
her eyes closed,
a testament of rapture.
her hip so gracefully swung
to the underlying tune
of her heart's song.
i watch her,
and i can only dream,
of ever being a dancer,
myself.
0756
030808
First one I got the first few lines in my head while I was running this morning, I started while it was really dark and I ran and rose with the sun, but I couldn't bloody see the sky burst into flame and colour because of the damned haze, so that sucked.
Then I came back and wrote the next one while I was watching the Nadal-Djokovic match which MY MAN played rather horribly (1-6, 5-7). I guess he had a lot of pressure on him since he's now number one.
(Priya thank you for the poster!!! *kisses you and it* and for everything else!)
..and guys (Jing Min, Su, Jas, Priya) - thank you for the jelly cake.. I'm happy I ate it! It's A STEP. *cheers* and I did it for you and for me too! And I was very happy. Yay! I'm glad I feel good about it. I know I'm a weird ass freako but.. any confrontation with BREAKING A RULE is met with guilt and self-condemnation.. But I felt really good about what I did, and I'm really touched you guys thought of me quite so much. (Please expect a hand-made card each quite soon :P )
As for rest of weekend, well..
Saw Prof. Amir about my bones which are marginally worse than a post-menopausal woman's. Heh. So now they want to pump me with oestrogen. No way am I going to be bloody pumped with oestrogen! Did you know that there was this dude who started growing tits and they did some research and realised that it was because he'd been eating a lot of chicken neck (they inject oestrogen into chicken neck). And I don't want my tits to grow any larger, thank you very much.
Today is a bloody lazy day. Danny planned for me, him and his gf (who is taller than his short ass btw) to go play badminton but he being a lazy bum decided not to go. He also said that The Mummy is "no sucking good shit" which I did not comprehend and thus did not bother to reply.
Currently reading: Khaled Hosseini - A Thousand Splendid Suns
Je m'ennuie. Ugh.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Hi again
Hi again. I'm really bored and have successfully stuffed myself even more. My weight fluctuates about 4 kg daily after I shit in the morning and before I go to bed. Lol. Wonderful innit. We all need a little variety in life.
Anyway, just finished making a card for Priya and I must say it looks freaking awesome. Felt kinda sad when I was making it though. Based on what I wrote. Sad in a good way. Sadness is good sometimes. But not all the time. Which is kinda how I feel.
NADAL is playing in Cincinnati and his match is around 7.00p.m. their time so that will be 7.00 a.m. tomorrow morning. He's coming in November by the way, and Sarah B is coming along with me. I can't bloody wait. If it clashes with the stupid London/Paris holiday which I DON'T BLOODY WANT TO GO ON (Stupid parents) I am going to murder. M-U-R-D-E-R. (Yeah I can spell it.) So I shall be a little (maybe not so) tudung-ed girl screaming like a fucking maniac in the crowd. I want to get the absolute best seats. I'll sit on the Agong if I have to. No wait I won't. I'll squish him. He is a tiny man.
So right now with lack of better things to do I have decided to post nonsensical blah blah.
Question of the day (to Sarah B): Do you like humping?
Anyway, just finished making a card for Priya and I must say it looks freaking awesome. Felt kinda sad when I was making it though. Based on what I wrote. Sad in a good way. Sadness is good sometimes. But not all the time. Which is kinda how I feel.
NADAL is playing in Cincinnati and his match is around 7.00p.m. their time so that will be 7.00 a.m. tomorrow morning. He's coming in November by the way, and Sarah B is coming along with me. I can't bloody wait. If it clashes with the stupid London/Paris holiday which I DON'T BLOODY WANT TO GO ON (Stupid parents) I am going to murder. M-U-R-D-E-R. (Yeah I can spell it.) So I shall be a little (maybe not so) tudung-ed girl screaming like a fucking maniac in the crowd. I want to get the absolute best seats. I'll sit on the Agong if I have to. No wait I won't. I'll squish him. He is a tiny man.
So right now with lack of better things to do I have decided to post nonsensical blah blah.
Question of the day (to Sarah B): Do you like humping?
I Want to be a Sheep
I would really love to be a sheep. Sheep are so fluffy and content. They look like happy clouds with feet, which should be everyone's dream in life. When I am a sheep, I will have such nice and fun days. I will eat grass and hay, and I shall bleat. And it shall be good. And sheep are special because their plural has no 'S'. How many other nouns can claim that (besides fish and food and rice and hair.. okay a lot more.)?
In my sheep world, Sarah B will be a tiger (she first wanted to be a cow but I think a happy tiger would suit her better). She will be of the breed Slow moving. And she will not eat me, and we shall be best friends, and it will be good. We shall frolic in the green grass of New Zealand. I can wear a cute little sheep-y tudung.
So Sarah B can teach me how to make kitty sounds: the purr, the roar, the meow, and the mrrrrrrrrrrraaaawww. I shall teach her prancing, and motionless activity while attempting to look like a cloud (the art of multi-tasking). And it shall be good.
In my sheep world, Sarah B will be a tiger (she first wanted to be a cow but I think a happy tiger would suit her better). She will be of the breed Slow moving. And she will not eat me, and we shall be best friends, and it will be good. We shall frolic in the green grass of New Zealand. I can wear a cute little sheep-y tudung.
So Sarah B can teach me how to make kitty sounds: the purr, the roar, the meow, and the mrrrrrrrrrrraaaawww. I shall teach her prancing, and motionless activity while attempting to look like a cloud (the art of multi-tasking). And it shall be good.
Update.
Thought of the day #1: I hate Leona Lewis
She sounds so God damn constipated
Thought of the day #2: I have a new obsession (and it involves another muscular man). Lmao. DUDEEEEEEEEEEEEEE if you claim to have seen a work of art, trust me, everything will pale in comparison to him.
Thought of the day #3: I still can't bloody stop eating and it's pissing me off. Why can't I just stop when I'm full? Noo, brain decides to malfunction. Ugh. Massive.
Thought of the day #4: I really need to get some work done.
Thought of the day #5: I love Sarah B.
Thought of the day #6: Muscular man recurs.
Thought of the day #7: I am rather enjoying this new gym membership I have taken up instead of Capoeira. My parents (especially mother) is not happy because you know la she is a mad woman and gets all worried when I exercise. But muscular man has something to do with my enjoyment.
Thought of the day #8: IL EST TRES BEAU!!!
Thought of the day #9: I shall stop thinking otherwise I might blow up.
Thought of the day #10: Hi God.
Thought of the day #11: It's me Sarah.
Thought of the day #12: =/
Thought of the day #13: I am a very naughty girl :(
She sounds so God damn constipated
Thought of the day #2: I have a new obsession (and it involves another muscular man). Lmao. DUDEEEEEEEEEEEEEE if you claim to have seen a work of art, trust me, everything will pale in comparison to him.
Thought of the day #3: I still can't bloody stop eating and it's pissing me off. Why can't I just stop when I'm full? Noo, brain decides to malfunction. Ugh. Massive.
Thought of the day #4: I really need to get some work done.
Thought of the day #5: I love Sarah B.
Thought of the day #6: Muscular man recurs.
Thought of the day #7: I am rather enjoying this new gym membership I have taken up instead of Capoeira. My parents (especially mother) is not happy because you know la she is a mad woman and gets all worried when I exercise. But muscular man has something to do with my enjoyment.
Thought of the day #8: IL EST TRES BEAU!!!
Thought of the day #9: I shall stop thinking otherwise I might blow up.
Thought of the day #10: Hi God.
Thought of the day #11: It's me Sarah.
Thought of the day #12: =/
Thought of the day #13: I am a very naughty girl :(
Monday, July 28, 2008
Holy Mama!!
Rafa had little trouble beating Nicolas Kiefer 6-3 6-2 in the final of the Rogers Cup today for his 29th straight match win. He leads the ATP with 61 matches won this year against only 7 losses.So that's
- 30 titles
- 12 Masters Shields (one more than Pete Sampras)
- 7 titles this year (leads the ATP)
- 5 consecutive titles
- a major title on three different surfaces this year
UH HUH UH HUH UH HUH!!
(Stayed up till 3.45 this morning to finish watching it. Well worth it. He looked so freaking happpyyyyyyy)
And I can't bloody stop eating for some reason -_________________-
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
Horrible
I just spoilt the whole of tomorrow
I feel so angry with myself
And every time I pray and swear not to do it again,
I always do.
I feel so angry with myself
And every time I pray and swear not to do it again,
I always do.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Note:
Because of its negatively-charged phosphate groups, DNA migrates toward the positive electrode (anode) when a direct current is applied. The smaller the fragment, the farther it migrates in the gel.
For the heck of it
Rules :
1. Each player of this game starts off with 15 weird things/habits/little known facts about yourself.
2. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 15 weird things/habits/little known facts as well as state this rule clearly.
3. At the end, you need to choose 10 people to be tagged and list their names.
4. No tags back!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1. I take my coffee super strong and super black with no sugar or milk and I always ask the Starbucks person to add an extra shot.
2. I wake up at 6.00 a.m. everyday regardless of whether it is holidays, weekends or normal school days.
3. I want to run a half marathon before I turn 18 but time is running out so I don't think that's possible.
4. I am very obsessed with things I am obsessed about.
5. I am rude to my parents and I feel very guilty but I can't help it.
6. I have gotten first in my year ever since I was... 7. But now, some stupid idiot's changing all that (Grrrr!)
7. I HATE playing team sports. HATE IT.
8. I am in love with Rafael Nadal because he is perfect (modest, kind, funny, does not drink, etc, etc.)
9. My favourite number is 7.
10. For some reason I am skeptical about the real existence of emotions and I feel that they are just figments of our imagination which our mind convinces us we are feeling.
11. I eat a lot of fibre.
12. I enjoy making things with my hands such as cards and scrapbooks and artsy-schmartsy stuff.
13. I don't believe that Friday the 13th is a bad day. It's just another Friday which will be followed by Saturday. (Right.)
14. I think about ( ) a lot. And don't just assume it's a person.
15. I am losing control
HAR DE HAR. So there.. I've wasted approximately 9 minutes of my time which should have been better spent expanding my pathetic notes :
....Of which I will now continue...
À bientôt!
Oh ya before I forget:
I tag:
Liani
Qistina
Atiqah
Yasmin
Han Lyn
Gaik Lyn
Kylie
E-Quine
Jiun Mei
Amy
..What an odd assortment
1. Each player of this game starts off with 15 weird things/habits/little known facts about yourself.
2. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 15 weird things/habits/little known facts as well as state this rule clearly.
3. At the end, you need to choose 10 people to be tagged and list their names.
4. No tags back!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1. I take my coffee super strong and super black with no sugar or milk and I always ask the Starbucks person to add an extra shot.
2. I wake up at 6.00 a.m. everyday regardless of whether it is holidays, weekends or normal school days.
3. I want to run a half marathon before I turn 18 but time is running out so I don't think that's possible.
4. I am very obsessed with things I am obsessed about.
5. I am rude to my parents and I feel very guilty but I can't help it.
6. I have gotten first in my year ever since I was... 7. But now, some stupid idiot's changing all that (Grrrr!)
7. I HATE playing team sports. HATE IT.
8. I am in love with Rafael Nadal because he is perfect (modest, kind, funny, does not drink, etc, etc.)
9. My favourite number is 7.
10. For some reason I am skeptical about the real existence of emotions and I feel that they are just figments of our imagination which our mind convinces us we are feeling.
11. I eat a lot of fibre.
12. I enjoy making things with my hands such as cards and scrapbooks and artsy-schmartsy stuff.
13. I don't believe that Friday the 13th is a bad day. It's just another Friday which will be followed by Saturday. (Right.)
14. I think about ( ) a lot. And don't just assume it's a person.
15. I am losing control
HAR DE HAR. So there.. I've wasted approximately 9 minutes of my time which should have been better spent expanding my pathetic notes :
Polymerase Chain Reaction (PCR)
· Used in molecular biology
· DNA polymerase is used to amplify a piece of DNA by in vitro enzymatic replication
· The generated DNA is itself used as a template for replication
· Starts a chain reaction in which the DNA template is exponentially replicated
· Employ a heat-stable DNA polymerase, such as Taq polymerase, an enzyme originally isolated from the bacterium Thermus aquaticus.
· DNA polymerase enzymatically assembles DNA strands from nucleotides using single-stranded DNA as templates and DNA oligonucleotides (or DNA primers) needed for initiation.
· Thermal cycling is used (alternately heating and cooling) to a defined series of temperature steps.
· DNA melting: Physically separating the strands at high temperatures in a DNA double helix
· This is used as template in DNA synthesis at lower temperatures by DNA polymerase to selectively amplify target DNA.
· The selectivity results from the primers complementary to target DNA regions
Gel Electrophoresis
· Technique used for the separation of DNA, RNA and proteins by applying an electric current across a gel matrix.
· May be used as a preparatory process preceding PCR
· "Electrophoresis" refers to the electromotive force (EMF) that is used to move the molecules through the gel matrix. By placing the molecules in wells in the gel and applying an electric current, the molecules will move through the matrix at different rates, usually determined by mass, toward the positive anode if negatively charged or toward the negative cathode if positively charged
....Of which I will now continue...
À bientôt!
Oh ya before I forget:
I tag:
Liani
Qistina
Atiqah
Yasmin
Han Lyn
Gaik Lyn
Kylie
E-Quine
Jiun Mei
Amy
..What an odd assortment
Monday, July 14, 2008
Monday afternoon
So I slept for 12 hours which is (a) the first I have done in a couple of years (b) a very bad thing
Slept at 2 something a.m. (no idea why)
I am progressively arrested at Exercise 24C.2 (Derivatives of Circular Functions and Related Rates) because I suddenly felt like blogging which is (b) a very bad thing.
I seriously have no idea what is happening to me - I honestly feel like I am losing control over the things I used to be able to control. From being unmovable and implacable I have been reduced to an emotional, pathetic sop. It has become apparent to me that beneath my robotic facade, this girl has feelings too. Wouldn't it be better just to not have feelings? It would make everything so much easier because 90% of the time, feelings are constituted of sadness and anger and hurt and disappointment. And even when the nice ones come it's not enough, never enough to undo all of the past that remains on the fringes to haunt. Tiring, no. Not a question, but a statement. I am a living testament of a burned out, over worked obsesser who pushes too hard and expects too much of herself and others. I know this and yet I am powerless to change. I want to dig a little hole and curl up and sleep for a long, long time (I will run in my dreams, and it will be good). Right now I don't want any colour and I want everything in black and white and shadows. I've discovered parts of myself I can't begin to comprehend what more appreciate and it is unsettling to mind and heart. I've discovered parts of others I can't begin to comprehend what more appreciate and I feel angry. Anger is a Gift.
Body clockwork ticking out of tune. Minutes fly by and then the seconds come slowly. Do you realise that there is no present because when I speak of present it has already become past. There is no way of pinpointing a definite now, a definite I-know-I-am-here-at-this-precise-moment because the instant you think that thought it's gone.
Self-deprecation is (c) a very good thing. Thus far I have managed to displace all my frustration and rage onto two of my toenails which are no longer toenails but messed up pieces of flesh and skin and cuticle.
I want to write like I used to write when all I did was muse and the words flew out like butterflies and I caught them with my piece of string. But now all the butterflies are dead and I think I've torn their wings.
I am a ghost with a skull that has empty sockets for eyes and I am a corpse that remains to haunt no one but myself and I am afraid of only myself and God's anger because I am a sinner
[shuts the door and
you shall hear no more]
This is a very disturbing post
Slept at 2 something a.m. (no idea why)
I am progressively arrested at Exercise 24C.2 (Derivatives of Circular Functions and Related Rates) because I suddenly felt like blogging which is (b) a very bad thing.
I seriously have no idea what is happening to me - I honestly feel like I am losing control over the things I used to be able to control. From being unmovable and implacable I have been reduced to an emotional, pathetic sop. It has become apparent to me that beneath my robotic facade, this girl has feelings too. Wouldn't it be better just to not have feelings? It would make everything so much easier because 90% of the time, feelings are constituted of sadness and anger and hurt and disappointment. And even when the nice ones come it's not enough, never enough to undo all of the past that remains on the fringes to haunt. Tiring, no. Not a question, but a statement. I am a living testament of a burned out, over worked obsesser who pushes too hard and expects too much of herself and others. I know this and yet I am powerless to change. I want to dig a little hole and curl up and sleep for a long, long time (I will run in my dreams, and it will be good). Right now I don't want any colour and I want everything in black and white and shadows. I've discovered parts of myself I can't begin to comprehend what more appreciate and it is unsettling to mind and heart. I've discovered parts of others I can't begin to comprehend what more appreciate and I feel angry. Anger is a Gift.
Body clockwork ticking out of tune. Minutes fly by and then the seconds come slowly. Do you realise that there is no present because when I speak of present it has already become past. There is no way of pinpointing a definite now, a definite I-know-I-am-here-at-this-precise-moment because the instant you think that thought it's gone.
Self-deprecation is (c) a very good thing. Thus far I have managed to displace all my frustration and rage onto two of my toenails which are no longer toenails but messed up pieces of flesh and skin and cuticle.
I want to write like I used to write when all I did was muse and the words flew out like butterflies and I caught them with my piece of string. But now all the butterflies are dead and I think I've torn their wings.
I am a ghost with a skull that has empty sockets for eyes and I am a corpse that remains to haunt no one but myself and I am afraid of only myself and God's anger because I am a sinner
[shuts the door and
you shall hear no more]
This is a very disturbing post
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