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do you remember my frog heart? |
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Friday, October 31, 2003 ( 11:32:00 PM ) elle's i am pretty much old-school, in that sort of way. technology makes me feel like i am a forgotton painting that continues to hang by a nail while the wall it rests on is painted and repainted. some day somebody will bother to take me down, and i will be of a colour that no one can recognize, speaking a language long since obselete. i like the taste of this milk in my fridge, at the point where its so fresh it doesnt even have a taste anymore. i like the way that feels, pure and cold, sliding down my throat like metal. i used to like that when i was upset, while i lay on my carpet in the dark with the rain splashing in, playing milk over and over on my stereo. i'm waiting im waiting for you. the song felt like that kind of milk, and it would bounce the sentiment arond between its walls, so that i could never purge it by accident. i never really stopped believing in tarot, the same way you never really stop believing about spirits. i never stopped being that person everyone was afraid to touch, like i might blister and burn, the both of us. you remind me so nicely . Thursday, October 30, 2003 ( 11:42:00 PM ) elle's i wouldn't have compromised so much so much of myself for fear of having you hating me i would've sung so loudly it would've cracked myself! i became self-conscious of anything exuberant i wouldn't have sold myself short i wouldn't have kept my eyes glued to the ground if i had've known my invisibility would not make a difference i would've run around screaming proudly at the top of my voice i wouldn't have said it was in fact luck i'm talking idealism here i would not have been so self deprecating i wouldn't have cowered for fear of having my eyes scratched out! i wouldn't have cut my comfort off i wouldn't have feigned needlessness i would not have discredited every one of their compliments it was your approval i wanted your congratulations you remind me so nicely . ( 10:44:00 PM ) elle's i want to cycle long and hard, in a slight rain, with earphones on maximum. with no direction at all. you remind me so nicely . ( 9:13:00 PM ) elle's i hope we can pull this twelfth night thing off. every time i look around and think about what is likely to screw things up (everyone turning into individual bitches, fifteen being even more segregated from the rest of the gep, flopping, boring our audience to death, etc) i just want to run far far away, i know i should try to stop myself this time. i really want this to work out; it's lit and it's theatre, what can i say, exactly? i lost my wallet, and found one of the most intriguing picks in the world. the scratches on it's surface, it's oil-toned reflection of pinks and yellows and dirty greens. i spent my entire ride holding the pick up to the light to let it shine faintly through the breaks in the paint, trying to cost, again. ma keeps asking me why i am so independent, and so far away. it's the way she speaks, like commenting on an article in the paper, i know she doesnt blame herself or the way she brought me up. but i dont blame you either ma, only because this is the only way i could ever want to be. i tried to feel cards today, and the sensation scared me in a way that freezes your limbs and makes you unable to tear yourself away. you remind me so nicely . ( 12:27:00 AM ) elle's why can't i even be unfair without it hitting me smack in the middle of my eyes five minutes later? fuck man, what do i say now? that things are no different from how they've ever been, that i feeling like screaming and running away, but there is no where to run to. i've been talking idealism, here. i want to do this by myself since every one else wouldnt have a clue, i dont want to fake it like so many people do. i want to be unashamed of being violent and weird in your world, fuck man when i think about it i realize i dont want no place in that stupid shithole. how did we all get so brainwashed, even me, how can you ever really think you're inpenetratable to bigger forces, to propoganda and deliberate influence, the second you think you're immune you've fallen for the oldest trick in the book. i dont want to be stupid, behave stupidly, even knowing it's stupid, and be affected by stupid people. i wasn't born this stupid and i know my thinking is like yours but for different reasons, because i come from a middle-class surburban non-dysfunctional family, technically what should i know about a bigger world, when you consider my background, minus the friends i used to have the the people i used to be and still am drawn to? id suggest it being nature agaisnt nurture and all that bs, but as previous said, what the hell am i doing in this body? what i would really like to do now is drink a few cans of beer and play my guitar all night, and not go to school tomorrow. and see stupid people, whom i still call my friends, because hey i still have to survive, dont i? i half dont want part of that pie any more. i want to call somebody up who might take me somewhere with some good pounding poetry or live music. you remind me so nicely . ( 12:20:00 AM ) elle's what makes you think i'll stop you, my dear. what makes you think i'll stop you. i wish the people around me were less perverse. if they saw nudity in a piece of art, they might just go crazy for days. it's maddening, the stupid little girls and the even stupider little boys, i've never felt so contemptuous of people as a whole, never so convinced, never so wanted to roll my eyes. at the same time i guess it might even be my looking for people more perverse, because they'd be desensitized like i am, unabashed like i am, apathetic like i am. hell, i could one day be pro-gay and straight myself, even asexual, just because the only people who aren't meaninglessly noisy are the ones who've had it squished out of them, by others or by self. there is more to being politically correct than meets the eye, there is more to the everything than what meets the eye. i want to find people who talk less and think more, people like the few i know who draw or write poetry, people out-cast, people unwilling to compromise themselves. what the shit am i doing in this body, this country, this school, this life. i wanted to stand up today and shout at everyone to fuck off, id wanted to have been the sort of person whom they might not have tried to save, or tried to convince to save herself, if stupid people want to bitch about it's stupid people's business. if this was ever your idea of salvation, then i just don't belong here amongst all the wonderful idiots. i would say this is why i am a loner at heart, because i really think everybody is freaking stupid. and when im not in the mood to try and be the pseudo normal i'm alloted, this all spills out like guts on the floor, and fuck i even want to offend, how could i not? how can i sit here and pretend that i'm anything at all like you, at the end of the day? why on earth do i have to? why was i given a box in the first place, who are you to tell me what to be, what to feel, how to think? even though it's subconscious, even though you subscribe to stereotypes without even realizing it, what the fuck is wrong with you? did you really think you were that lucid? who are stupid people to decide what is right and wrong? who am i to ask for forgiveness, who am i to not be allowed to be the shitass that i am. and HA, the thought strikes now that i dont go fuck often, but come on, what a fucking stupid world. this world, i mean, my world. what the shit am i doing here? and cong dont pretend, will you? even though i know you're also pretending to yourself. fuck why does everyone want to fit in so awful much of the time. you remind me so nicely . Wednesday, October 29, 2003 ( 11:56:00 PM ) elle's i go green, because this is the only place i see you. because i'd been plucked out or weeded this way, and with every breath i hate how im missing. this is not my world, has never been my world, and im not likely to ever fully get used to this. i can't even explain how much i dont want to. and i think back and realize how much her one chance meant to my sister, how she seized it, how she's holding it still, amidst the hundred and one reasons that are supposed to take priority. and i may never have the chance if i dont do things like she did, i may be stuck here forever. thinking about this makes me want to get away from this shitforsaken country. the why should i have to compromise, why should i have to put myself on second best, why should i shortchange myself for any reason or excuse at all? nothing is worth what i'm doing now, nothing in the world. you remind me so nicely . ( 12:03:00 AM ) elle's credit me, kevin. if you continue remembering every thing i say you're gonna start talking like me. :) by the way, watch me go green. you remind me so nicely . Tuesday, October 28, 2003 ( 11:30:00 PM ) elle's i love eighties music. i love class95, before they went all moh-dern. i'm craving live music right now. i would call myself and my state now neutral equilibrium. i want electric soft parade, the muffled voices and twang-guitars, the simple lyrics that tell of a familiar sensation. i'm craving live music right now. who's the one with the love-song nickname now, kevin? the word that comes to mind when i think of them is breeding. contained and deliberate. i always suspect people of lying. i lie so well, after all, and do things that i dont believe in, to humour people. i may be one of the most diplomatic persons i know, when im in not in the mood or feeling strongly about something, for logical reasons, because i dont really give too much of a shit and im a lazy ass who doesnt want unecessary hassle. every day i whispered today, first time in a long time. i wanted to ask ms lee where these things come from, but i know that's not her department. like when i type an sms in my sleep, and i wake up and find things that take my breath away. i've stopped believing im crazy, because that was just an excuse, and my unwillingness to deal with how different i am from just about everyone else i know. i slept for three hours in class and no one complained. my juniors broke down today, i felt like giving them a hug. somebody bring me shopping sometime soon. can i place an order for someone who might think like i do? i'm not whining anymore, but i do want someone whom i dont have to explain to. kevin works, some times, he can make a satire of the things i say. i used to spar with jaryl, but he was one of those bochup people who might not fit me so well anymore. she has found herself and i'm happy for her, he adores me too much to even see straight anymore, i still dont know why. he's an aesthetic, and a beautiful stranger, and a chess-playing loner; he hates me and loves me, and it feels like heaven on earth this time. he can read my mind when he's in the same room, but he doesn't know me at all. what do i ask of, i ask too much. i'm the idealist, at the end of the day, among all the other things people call me. i like putting my lips on warm surfaces. you remind me so nicely . Monday, October 27, 2003 ( 12:02:00 AM ) elle's i know what this will be feeling soon, but i have control, and don't you forget it. (here is where i chin up and convince myself that i'm stronger than you. how much d'ya wanna bet, i know this is a language you can understand. our prides dear, this game was all about our prides, while we pretend that it's that simple, that we might not end up broken and bitter after the last round has been drawn.) i picked up a guitar today, for the first time in maybe four years. i love ths sound of eleanor's metal strings, and i'm bowled over again by the simplicity of the instrument. im not good at it, but that much i expected. justine strums almost carelessly, lucid only of the prints on the page. while she never missed a chord, i nearly never connected them right, but stumbling along was enjoyable all the same. the tenderness of my fingertips is such a strangely intriguing sensation. you remind me so nicely . Sunday, October 26, 2003 ( 1:21:00 AM ) elle's roxette, he tells me. like reading my mind. (crap, how did you know? marry me, now!) all 80's weekend on the radio, i am so in love. there's something about you, kid. i really can't take you, some times. when i feel like all i want is somebody to fuck me up, and you won't let me be brain-dead. you remind me so nicely . ( 1:10:00 AM ) elle's Who is Rei? There is no good answer to that question. She is just... Rei. Her hair is blue. Her eyes are not brown. When she looks at you with those eyes, you just want to hold her and tell her everything is going to be OK, even through you know it isn't. But she's stronger than you think. Oh yes. Much stronger. She's always broken. How many times in and out of the hospital? The blood-stained bandages and pillows where she sleeps. Her shattered bones and torn skin. But she doesn't seem to care. Who is Rei? Is she fearless? Or can she simply not feel fear? She is beautiful, but does not seem to know it, or understand what that could mean. Her voice is soft, and undeniable. When the end comes, no-one will remain untouched by this tragic soul. They fear her, and love her, and hate her, and need her. She has saved their lives many times, and tried to give her own away almost as often, but fate will not take it. Her silence fills entire rooms. When she speaks, you will listen. When she moves, you will watch. There seems little choice, for either of you. She is the first child. There is no-one else like her, whatever they say. When every other memory has withered and blown away, Rei will remain. That is who she is. -random site, from ty amusing, but corny and melodramatic, my rei has nothing to do with this, i have nothing to do with this. my affinity with characterisation. we saw beautiful things today, the churning fountain, the view from the cine window, and pretty purfume from a fairy-tale. and dolce vita wasnt just some shit-story, but an actual scent, im surprised in the way a scientist would be surprised. i dont think about you anymore, but i always wonder what you'd say if i said the first word for the first time now. that day she mentioned you in passing, and i'd wanted to laugh out loud, and cry out loud, being so undeniable jealous. marian please take care of yourself, yes? you remind me so nicely . Friday, October 24, 2003 ( 11:50:00 PM ) elle's stupid, adorable weicong. in a very sand-paper kind of way. sometimes i wonder if you still battle with yourself about me. i know what it did to you, and i can't honestly say sorry because i've always been this way and will always continue to be; this blatant and this frantic and this unabashedly queer. and i could like the silly little boys like you, who softly go fuck you and then do the same, all the while staring at the ground. i cycled today for the first time in ages, and he taught me a cool dismount. also banged up his face, riding backwards and crashing into a car. :) last night i dreamt, that somebody loved me no hope, no harm, just another false alarm you remind me so nicely . Thursday, October 23, 2003 ( 11:29:00 PM ) elle's i like the book alot because of the way he writes, in a tone that could softly drug you with accidental beauty, wry and lucid. it reminds me of a more sober version of my lucky honey, and a specific few strangers i know. (it was like a magic word, you know- the minute i said it, i went back to being a more recognizable sort of me. to my dear lucky honey, you dont affect me that way anymore, because i'd inadvertently dealt with the issue of You, and you became just the so simpler and more ordinary. and now i can just admire you as a outsider, without wanting to join hands with you and run off into the sunset, and my appreciation of you has became ever so slight.) i have too many issues to ever adopt being beautiful. too anti-cliche, too obsessive about integrity, too lucid and logical to sound that kind of lyrical. maybe it's just the beliefs that have been so broken down, and how i lose every round at bluff because my apologetic deceit is explicit in every twitch of my body. it is easy to read me like prose, but i've learnt how to distract over the years. you remind me so nicely . ( 12:46:00 AM ) elle's the age old battle continues if nothing else, shit amusing. if anyone's gonna try this please dont let me know. you remind me so nicely . ( 12:35:00 AM ) elle's need to find work, i dont know if ive actually already found it yet or not. min offers jobs that go on til two in the morning, jinhua suggests cafes and locals, he says im crazy to think about back to macs. i feel so agitated just thinking about this, or not getting a job at all. i remember missing gym chalet last year because i couldnt get off work, i remember losing my phone and my self-control, rushing to keep up. then i think about how good the money felt, in a silly, bimbotic way. the agitations drains me out, and i dont want to think about the chores i have to get done by today. (ten minutes ago) by the way, its sad that we've come to the point where we cant even air that kind of sentiment upfront anymore. what can i say, but then i beat myself up for being sad about this all the time. im trying not to care, with the same techniques i've used all my life. and what would da say if i told him i wanted to do film studies, learn this professionally, explore, do something that intrigues me. (alot of things intrigue me). i sat by the window that day in the hospital, watching him yell softly into the phone, restrained and cold and harsh on michelle for another production. he says its easy to go astray in that business. i have never seen him bite his nails before like he did over the newspaper-incident, he looked about four years old. as if his life depended on it, as if hers did. as if he was a little boy torn between two favourites flavours of ice cream. i built a house of cards today, in the middle of chinese class, and people tried to knock it down, expectedly. i played speed for the first time since camp in primary four (with alethia and the netballers, being the first few in the pool. i came across the blue for basketball es4e camp shirt, i held it to my face and breathed in imaginary scents from six years ago. so then which am i, kevin, strange or amusing i admit that you say things that often get to me. dear gerard, my url is not meant in whatever way you're reading it (also expected, i have known you for three years and you've continued to be that same predictable :P) the hollow worm is crawling through my guts, devouring my insides. this is why i feel often empty, and brittle, and ready to collaspe at a breath of air. i want to live in dublin someday. you remind me so nicely . Tuesday, October 21, 2003 ( 11:10:00 PM ) elle's one could buy you in a shop, prepackaged and pretty. from over here, the only thing you have going for you is user-friendly. that's you, all over the page. you remind me so nicely . Monday, October 20, 2003 ( 10:59:00 PM ) elle's i did fair for the papers i got back today. if choo hadnt wanted our english essays back, i would have ripped mine up. felt so queer letting people read it, but then what can you do, exactly. they traipse around like musketeers, and i am just faintly amused. i have one of those headaches you could eventually get used to. spacing. generally good. am i doing this again? alien girl. perry reminds me a little of weicong, when i first knew him. young, careless, reckless, hopeful; above all things just so young. i dont know how to explain it. i wonder what its like to feel like michael. i thought i was selfish, at least i knew it, at least dont be noble about this. i remember how they used to say michelle was selfish, i didnt really ever completely agree or otherwise with that. my brother? just so locked up and needlessly defensive, un-understanding, unforgiving, dear idiot you know you loathe so many things about da you've just about inherited them all and they're swimming through your blood. sometimes i want to ask you if you can imagine being in someone else's shoes. like i feel the scars all over da's arms, watching him attack that thing on his own, i would help if my head werent spinning, i would have helped if i had time enough to sit where you are and play on your ps all day. i suppose it doesnt matter that ma's half blind, that da's diabetes renders this kind of work seriously dangerous to him, that people are picking up your shit for you. im not counting score, i dont want to do like you did to me, but it'd be nice to know that you have a heart somewhere in you, something that's capable of understanding what it might be like from some one else's shoes. you remind me so nicely . ( 1:32:00 AM ) elle's i feel like standing on my head. i used to go around like that when i was young. every three lines i realize im doing it again. i looked at my milk-blog and realized i got lulled into something without an actual name. like halfway i got snatched off, drugged, and shoved back in front of my computer. hello. please act like nothing is wrong, you remind me so nicely . ( 1:17:00 AM ) elle's judgemental and self-convinced, stemming from weak and insecure, stemming from confused and worthless, in a vicious cycle, i can relate myself to every single disgusting character i know. i'm a Malvolio, and i've known all this from way back, and i cannot believe i am so numb, come to think of it i cant remember a time when i felt a thing at all. i want to feel emotion actual emotion without being obsessed about whether its coming out right. i dont know if im confused, i cant tell whether im pretending or not. i dont even feel suffocated like i sometimes do, the realization that i dont feel a thing. i dont feel a thing. this is scary, because i dont feel a thing, the closest i ever get is sensation, but you cant built an existence on sensation. why im hooked on it, intrigued by it, its the best i can ever get. what is it like to feel for real. i am so numb i dont even know if i feel a thing now or not, typing these things all over the page, sounding truly insane im not even convinced by this anymore. is this just another game? what's right and what's wrong? im supposed to have some sort of control over my life, over my mind, im not even depressed now im completely lucid. laughing at gerard's class tee. why am i so emotionless? i dont feel a thing, i can only be sensated, is this my imagination or what? what's real anymore? i look at things i've written or things that ive made and i dont recognize that girl. so alien. or am i alien. which is real? isnt this why i cant trust sensation. am i supposed to be lucid or depressed? at least depressed is somewhat familiar. i dont have a name for this, emotion, lack of it. how can you tell me if i have antisocial personality disorder. i dont feel a thing and im not even disturbed by that, because i dont know any other way to be. why dont i feel a thing. i want to feel a thing. i feel like if someone whacked me on the head right now, or stabbed me in the eye, i might wake up, but only for the sensation. how did sensation get bad for me. can somebody wake me up. i dont feel a thing. i feel like a postcard on the table, pure black and pure white, of a blank-faced girl with chin length hair. obsessed with beauty is bad for me. im squinting and dont feel a thing. please tell me how to feel a thing. the fact here is that i am alone, strangers only want this, wanted this, because it was beautiful. you cant trust strangers. i dont feel anything, when i die i probably wont know what is happening. is it just the mood. common layman mistaken definition of antisocial personality disorder. hello, i feel like i could be walking on air off a building, id keep walking. with my eyes wide. i am doing this again. i should stop. ella what on earth is wrong with you. you cant be a sensation. im going a little crazy, but then its all a long time gone. i need to... i dont know what i need. pray, somebody would tell me. that used to make me feel something. but i never feel anything for long. goodbye, audience. i keep wondering whether im the only one who does this. like, do i sound crazy yet? do i need a jab yet? is this real or fake, am i doing this again yet? i wonder if its useless for me to try and be different because i get lulled back into my this consciously or unconsciously, at the end of the day. should i study chinese. or should i try to figure my head out. should i pray for ma. should i try to understand them. i am very close to feeling nothing. sensation is bad for you if its going to make you lose your mind. you remind me so nicely . Sunday, October 19, 2003 ( 8:22:00 PM ) elle's --and yes, they're in shock they are panicked you and your chronic them and their drama you this embarassment us in the middle of this delusion if we were our bodies if we were our futures if we were our defenses id be joining you if we were our culture if we were our leaders if we were our denials i'd be joining you if we were our nametags if we were our rejections if we were our outcomes id be joining you if we were our indignities if we were our successes if we were our emotions i'd be joining you you and i, we're like four year olds we want to know why, and how come about everything we want to reveal ourselves at will, and speak our minds and never talk small talk and be intuitive and question mightily, and find God my tortured beacon we need to find like-minded companions if we were their condemnations if we were their projections if we were our paranoias i'd be joining you if we were our incomes if we were our obsessions if we were our afflictions i'd be joining you we need a reflection we need a really good memory feel free to call me a little more often you remind me so nicely . ( 1:43:00 AM ) elle's jo says we will just grow up to be Full-Fledged Stupid, hiak. she also says that im asking for computer trouble by putting the world pornography in my url. weicong does this often. not talking to me for a few months, then a random message asking about his true love. i really feel like hugging you at those times, because you sound so incredibly silly. i think about ma and how she didnt let me learn ballet last time. how i would have loved it, as an art form. because i didnt know anything about myself then, only what i refused to be (all those words you would have liked to use on me). then i feel guilty, thinking about her on that hospital bed, stitches i can see but she cant, telling da she feels lousy, the concern in his eyes. if i ever found a husband who loved me half as much as da loves ma, i would be the luckiest person on the face of this earth. khin sent me a message that day that i woke up to, im wondering whether i dreamt it up, im wondering where's she's been and how she is. i want to go back to the 62 playground, and sit on the wooden swing all day, like a black and white photograph. if im lucky enough to catch that moment, i know it'd only be a second, before the kids from the numerous houses come streaming into the daylight. and then i wonder if there are still any kids there, because we were the kids from those days, and now we're all officially too old for slides and see-saws. and then there's the thought of how that classic playground has probably been revamped already, morphed into plastic and sponge, things more safe and less biodegradable. these things just make me feel helplessly old, helplessly aging, like im losing it already, tell me something that i dont know. am i the only one who's refused to grow up? you remind me so nicely . ( 1:27:00 AM ) elle's i found a link to my old site, on a stranger's blog. reading what i wrote then, i sounded so lucid about being stupid. i know i was stupid, but then i probably still am stupid, etcetcetc, vicious cycle that ends in my coffin, only if i dont have kids. i have grown, since then, and its a disturbing thought, but feel-good, in a way. also disturbing is the thought that i could go in insane, unthinkable ways for the next year to come, and more so than anyone else i know. im still not stable, and i dont know what to think about that. oh, and another thing disturbing is how im starting to sound exactly like you, my lucky honey. you remind me so nicely . ( 12:48:00 AM ) elle's i wish i werent a computer idiot. no questions bout the url, it was pure moment. you remind me so nicely . |
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