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Thursday, July 29, 2004 ( 12:31:00 AM ) elle's and i dreamt of the apocalypse too, that night. the biggest fish in the ocean, my mirror, sylvia plath. stained-glass contortions, the scariest thing i have had in years. you're a pretty boy, but you'd be a prettier girl. i watched the mothman prophecies, oggling at the camera angles. but freaked, so much of me freaked that ma had to sit on the toilet bowl and un-paint her nails while i showered. so, i guess i've decided that im never going to watch another scary movie as long as i live. sometimes. i just dont understand your high-strung ambitions, your holed-over intentions. explain yourself, girl; this language you speak, separate from mine. you remind me so nicely . Sunday, July 25, 2004 ( 10:51:00 PM ) elle's i've gotten paid, bought myself bailey's again. i think. bringing comics around when you study is a good and muchly risky thing, like triggerhappy therapy. and... i guess i've been used to some brand of unhealthy. but lately it feels like i've been unravelled, stood in the sun, burnt to crisp. im wondering when i will get bored of predictability, when i will shroud myself again with destructiveness. some times i tell myself. i need to get away from you because it's... just so bad for me in ways. and installed speakers, big whoop. cheap thrills come free and easy when your standards are low. you remind me so nicely . Thursday, July 22, 2004 ( 10:56:00 PM ) elle's i can't jump on the tram anymore. the waves of pain and waves of shock up and down my spine, i cant believe you can train for four years straight and lose it all in a week flat. im sorry for being such a control freak. but you know i just do it again, because it's something... really i dont know how to help it. there is no space in between the extremes, it's just that: i'd rather screw thigns up myself. because i can blame myself with perfect clarity, but blaming someone else is another thing altogether. you dont deserve to suffer my paranoia. you know what they say. hash it up. i tried to write properly about ma in my personal statement, but it didnt come out right. i wanted to write about a mother who would willingly take a step back and let every single one of her children screw up, learn the hard way, or maybe it wasnt that she was letting us, but that we insisted anyway. what do you think of it ma? when you say your children are headstrong and stubborn, when both your daughter are sky-high idealists. da gave in to me that day, ma, he said, i dont think i have a choice about it. and the moment he said it, ma, i changed my mind, a complete 360, a crumpling disrevelation. but im glad i went over to fourteen and did that career test thing with liz, because... i guess looking at her answers i have a clearer idea of who she is, and who i am. and talking to jing, that day. because i never thought him the sort. i dont want to think of things anymore. just... talk to me normally, speak to me of bright cheery things. im gone completely jaded, at least for a while. so i gave my cd collection the once over and i realise i dont have any music to use for dance. dude you cant dance to bjork, you can't dance to placebo. and i cant imagine having a music taste so very pop-centred, not myself at least. but then my olds include britney and christina and freaking mandy moore, so that must have been me, too, at some point in my life. i listened to my cheerleading song, and last one standing, man it's such a retarded ditty i can't believe i actually did it twice in my lifetime. twice is twice too many for bad music. i want to ask. when did i change? when did i become alternative, when did i become queer? i want pe to be fun for my classmates because i think that's the only bit's that important, and i really believe that, i love watching people like alina and melissa and jean dance because it's just so uncharacteristic. it's inspiriting to watch people try, even more than it is to watch people succeed. sometimes i think im the corniest of all. i remember what i used to do once upon a time, and how you used to think you had it all about me. sometimes i find it hard to believe that im such a perpetual actress, i find it hard to accept my elitist notions and all the other things about myself that i have let blow out of proportion. i have dreamed them into existence, into magnification, and now that it is hindsight i remember how badly i am perpetually wanting to trash myself away. i guess, because some people know exactly what it feels like, and some people cant imagine it. i feel myself fading. when i saw fader that day, decked up in cj uniform, leang wen, that's the first thing that came to mind, fader. and oh how it is to fade and blend in shades of grey, how what did it mean to give yourself that name, at that time? were you different, were you real? were you as haunted as the perpetual someone i would be looking for? and i cant believe how awake i have been today, considering the five o'clock lightsout. hi. if you can talk to me normally, i promise i will try. because bad starts just do things in for me, once you trigger my hypersensitivity im blind from start to end. so end it, once and clean, and start again. because im a lot of the things i pretend not to be, and i can be... blatantly honsest, or... something else altogether. i dont come with biohazard stickers. you remind me so nicely . Monday, July 19, 2004 ( 1:23:00 AM ) elle's feels better to have put it to words. so i sat myself down and tried to think of the different ways in which ive become a Bad Person, and i've come to a non-conclusion about myself, which is i suppose in too many ways good and unexpected. because i need to break away from ultimatums, need to break away from absolutes, need to stop seeing things in terms of black and white and the great expanse of solid grey, concrete thick and set in stone. ive decided to take all my thinking and throw it out of the window, ive decided to stop caring about what it is the part that i am playing here, and just get on with my life. yes i have a life. i need to remind myself that if i dont want to be here, i dont have to. so what grace said today about my hair making me look naughty and sassy chick and all that jazz has not stuck more than what she said about it being just too old for me. i told her about how eileen said i looked like such a mommy's girl and she frowned and said... maybe it's because i know you and since then today it's been going over debates in my mind. because... i dont think of myself as a bad girl, because well maybe because of people i know subsequently the people who are so much worse than me, things that have formed in my mind since long ago i was always one of the better ones, and that's always been enough for me. i dont know because i dont know what context you are coming from and because it could so definately be different from mine, i am in a Good Girl's school, it was in a church where she said it, the culture of everything crosses and recrosses and in the end im left with one big and tangled mess. ive come to think, yes im cheeky and mischeivous and intolerable lots of the time, no i dont have the sweet lil heart o' gold thing going for me and never have probably never will, yes im somewhat more liberal especially when im standing next to you, but no im not void of morals or ideals or conscience or understanding, yes i have a brain in my head but no, you're right, it leads me nowhere. some days i wonder about my morals and what they mean to me and it scares me some times too because they just seem so threadbare. im perhaps too tolerant of some things and too hard pressed against others, i dont know where to stop, start, try, fade, keep my mouth shut. im manipulative and self-obsessed a lot of the time, insensitive and sensitive and even hyper-sensitive, i think of the people who have told me that i seem to be able to read their mind and i know it is not something i would be able to do if i didnt try. gee i never thought of myself as evil, even though going for catclass has until today and maybe from next week onwards been one big demoralising ordeal, up until recently apathy has become a part of me that was neutral, not good, not bad, clear-eyed and unemotive as the the date, the temperature, the measurements of a building. and up until maybe right now the little green-clothed gremlin at the back of my mind that has been logically working out how erroneous the larger part of my philosophy has been, he's always been one too far away to have any relevance, he's always been the despicable voice of reasons, all things extreme and impassionate and by my current yardstick despicable. the thing is even when i have been saying those things, i have known somewhere in the back of my mind that one day these things will be so completely ridiculous, i will conform and i will submit, or i will become another casualty of idealism and the seduction of art. try me, though i hate to admit it and i hate to imagine it, a lot of the time i'm a lot more logical than i give myself credit for. and as for something being too old, i realise now that that has been the place where my tastes have been, like they have been picked too soon and put into action, like something about it shows in my skin. when she said my hair was too old for me i thought about how it wasnt my idea, but kevin's, i have never told him what to do, exactly, with my hair, i have just been his blank canvas and he has rubbed his hands with glee and went on me like a kid in a candy store. i am more than happy to do that for him, he's a good guy and he's in so given me a lot of fun to be had, but again i remember how he never can remember how old i am, that im stil in school, that no you cant dye my hair because my teachers will kill me. and what grace said today is different from what more people have said, and it also gets to me because she is the one saying it, she is older and by any standards intelligent and probing, and she has always been some one time and again telling me that im inappropriate. you're right, i'm downright inappropriate because the two cultures clash, i would not say i am a typical kind of person but indeed im a shifty kid, indeed im full of things that i ought have nothing to do with. and the thought that i am indeed growing up to a libertine's culture is scary, because i wonder who i can blame and it is me, and it is my parents too, but yet not their fault, they have been liberal but they have been trying to reach out to me and right up til ever so recent i have just been pushing them away. im afraid now that my personality has become something predefined and unshakable, because really and you wouldnt disagree, even in my calmest of minds i would still diagnose that i am a despicable character. and okay. im not done brooding, because this is not brooding it is more musing than anything else, and i love to do that. id like to believe a lot of things but as of now they're still up pending, im just more than willing to cut them free and let them drift like upward snowflakes, just like everything else, they dont mean a single thing. so while im back to earth i have a literature essay to write and sleep to sustain for the next few hours, tomorrow im thinking of simple and refreshingly mundane things like tests and homework, tv at ten o clock. need to carve out a few hours to reformat my computer. need to change my url and to stop blogging for a while, need to catch up on my loads of overdue homework. need to start studying true, need to learn to survive on less sleep. and da bought me speakers about three times the size of my current ones, i think he spoils me this way because he just really wants them in the house. all the same, down to it. you remind me so nicely . Sunday, July 18, 2004 ( 8:33:00 PM ) elle's im finding this all pointless. these days. feels like im a culmination of everything disgusting you can think of. all those despicable people you've ever known, i've been on their side and ive been in their shoes. and. there's nothing more true to myself, nothing more unabashed. i pissed jeannette off today. fucking judgemental. and saying sorry felt too familiar, because im always offending her for one reason or another. and then sometimes i think, it's not like she's ever going to apologize to me. and that's not the point i know. but well.. you know. too much of the time you dont have a say in what you're about to feel. and i dont want to be so tempermental any more. im the one who makes myself twisted, i dont want to be so cutting and evil and out of place. im on another roll, on another low today, because of how i am disapproved, how i am... really disgusting. i dont know how to change and how to be a better person, feels like a sentence that has scarcely begun, feels like there will be no end to a long and brief beginning. somedays. i want to flush myself down the toilet. i want to stop feeling, so i can be disposed of. some days i let myself screw up and it crashes down upon my head again, it's just not alien, it's me, it's a well-covered territory. you know. some days when you feel like shit and you act like shit and everything that happens to you in the day makes you feel like... running off a cliff at the edge of the world. and you're still in charge, the worst feeling is when you have no one to blame but yourself. dont you hate that? dont you just hate that? do you even know what it feels like. how should i know, it's not as if this sensation is exclusive. i dont want to think so much but these days are just made for that. it's made for... ever-sinking into deeper blue funk, it helps if you have a history of stupidity, a dark room and an arsenal or depressing music. a brooding complex well covered. i do this to myself. i know. put me to a melody. you know what i mean. im unclean a libertine, and everytime you vent your spleen i seem to lose the power of speech you're slipping slowly from my reach you grow me like an evergreen you've never seen the lonely me at all you know how i hate it. you know how i do it, and how efficiently i spin myself. like a top, like a web, like endlessly and self-obsessed yarn. and then i let it freak me, and then i spill it over the surface, please look at me, please deride. when i am un-helpable, when i am solitary and when i am at the end of the day, fully accountable and chained to myself. this skin sucks. and sentiment gone thin so im going to leave it at that. there's work i've needed to do, that i slept away my insecurity for. too bad. you remind me so nicely . Saturday, July 17, 2004 ( 12:43:00 AM ) elle's nuts. dont wanna say anything because there's no way to un-cornify things. no way to say it right too, and i think an hour of mass-hugging-crying goodbyes is enough. tired. the gymnasium was so utterly serene after it all. i like it when the air is still, just like that. aftermath. it's never going to feel that way again i know, all of a sudden i feel a million years older than i was a few days ago. i thought of the picture of us in the gym, the one with us hysterical on the trampoline, is two whole years a long time or short. i guess it's another close, it's official now that we've graduated. so i might as well say it now, while the feeling is still there.
you remind me so nicely . Thursday, July 15, 2004 ( 10:18:00 PM ) elle's homework is lots. miserable me. cong, i changed my mind right after i said it. why should my one affect the other, when sentiment like that is completely unrelated? i haven't watched enough of your teenage melodramas, i have none of your regard for things like these. and we tricked liz into thinking she'd left her shoes on the bus. hurhurhur, can't keep a straight face. i want pictures from trampoline competition two years ago. now all i have is a picture in my mind, or those you might count, the ones hung up in the gym. us doing the fun-dance, many details ago. and i never realized the lyrics to les miserables were so good. i should have stayed at fong's house, methinks. unproductive, as long as the computer is going to be here in front of me. you remind me so nicely . ( 12:49:00 AM ) elle's i dont know how to say it, make myself explain. being this close to you as a person, but not as a person. will you even return, with a glare? because. i forget you so well, until the time comes again: i want to remember what it feels like. not growing cold. sometimes it is that, i want to feel the way i did when he is around. when i wonder: if i had returned your letter? these worlds that separate us, tear them down. i am a different person, and i am white with your fear. trembling when i think of things: there is no escape. this is what i am pledging: endless lifetimes with you? you should know, that changes the bill altogether. fit me with a different piece. cool and fresh and altogether: nowhere near as exciting. i wish i remembered writing this, scrawling it, test-pad, classic post-mortem script. like a poem i can't understand, i know it must have made sense to the person who wrote it, the me that i was then. but the right now is context? references? wish i could screw loose, somehow comprehend. it feels better on paper, my tuesday morning scrawl, the one that tells me i'm thinking again, i'm feeling again. useless aborigine. you remind me so nicely . Wednesday, July 14, 2004 ( 11:30:00 PM ) elle's first day of competition almost entirely missed. considering skipping the whole of friday, i want to watch my ouuxiang compete. we had hysterics over them complicated paper cranes, hurhurhur, i want to see my seniors, i miss them insane. there's no sensation like this one, when you're standing in the shoes of someone who seemed to know the entire rigmarole: clueless, helpless, lost as as two-year-old. i keep replaying that moment over and over in my head. felt like we were almost close to something friendly, something less scathing and sadistic and hypocritical. as much as i i like it i know it wont last. stumbled upon something disturbing today, something i swallow for fear of disarming you. it's not my business to say it out loud. cheese. violate me, right up there with old-time foolery, right down there with the coarse kind of cluelessness. it's only because: people like you get boring after a while. conservative, conforming. endlessly self-conscious. da bought gerberas today, vases crammed orange-pink-solitary-yellow full at sixty-cent a piece. the perfect shade of pink, and i felt happy-sad seeing them because i thought of how fast they were going to die and how i would feel about that. when i tell myself hell they're just a bunch of crummy flowers, i remember how i cried when the last batch of them had to be trashed. im not an optimistic nor a pessimistic person, but the glass if half full, believe me? thing are never so clear cut as we'd like to believe them to be. you remind me so nicely . Sunday, July 11, 2004 ( 11:05:00 PM ) elle's weicong despite it all. you help keep me convinced that relationships are bad news; bad mistakes all just waiting to happen. you remind me so nicely . Saturday, July 10, 2004 ( 3:56:00 PM ) elle's i woke up at two-thirty and hung all my flowers upside down to dry. i read all the letters one by one and then i put them into my box and shut the lid on it. my leotard is still crumpled on the bathroom floor, the trophy on my bed where i collapsed last night. maybe the sleep makes it all seem so distant. all the random paraphanelia, now im pointless, im thinking about my juniors, the ones who have something left. i want to take trampoline in jc. im taking ma's laptop to go see her in the hospital. id have forgotten her surgery but im making up for it now. working crumpets. listless, estranged. you remind me so nicely . ( 12:16:00 AM ) elle's so shag. im tired. because i was a bitch today, i still hate them, but i know it's not their fault. the same way it's not the fault of the blind and not the fault of the stupid. what made me laugh, was his ribbing. how is it possible, to make everything sound so retarded? takes guts, takes skill. i realize what a difference school culture makes. and i miss my teamates already, and my juniors and my seniors and my coaches because when i came back home i felt so alone, inconsequential. i still hate politics. when i think about it straight. i wonder if we deserved to win this year, i wondered if they did. i realize no matter what it is we're going to think that we deserved it, but really it's all a matter of different criteria. it's so maddening how we can't get along. and i hate her too, because of what she seems to think. of herself. but fuck, that's her life and her tragedy, her funeral. eileen said not to say fuck any more. i miss kim and eileen and all the seniors. it's like they fell into our lives for another brief fling of a time, and now it's over. i cant believe it's over. i cant believe we won. it doesnt feel like we trashed them, a 0.05 loss, a 0.05 win. but im so proud of my juniors, right now, because they didnt cry, and hell that must have been hard, hell that's more than i could have said for myself, for the whole bunch of us, last year. i cant help how fast things are going, i cant believe how short a time it took me to get to sec four. oh hell, i cant be bothered to think any more. shag to death, i want to go to sleep and tomorrow wake up and not be thinking about them anymore. more than anything, the politics bother me. my involvement with them, the fact that i haven't forgotten how to be a bitch. it's useful sometimes, but fuck. that's their fucking territory and im dont even mean it in a derogatory way. i dont want to reduce myself to a lowest common denominator. you remind me so nicely . Thursday, July 08, 2004 ( 9:31:00 PM ) elle's wreckless as we are. once in a while im proud of it. i realized why im good at this. it's because, of practice with mind games, trying to get under your skin. how i deal with things and people that i dont like, is mere pretending that they're not there. mud. nowhere as composed as we think you are. self induced sugar high, lots of feel-good runs. the rhythm's an old beginning, and keep it in for superstition's sake. but i'm dying to hit the tram, right then, right now. let me at it. you remind me so nicely . Wednesday, July 07, 2004 ( 11:14:00 PM ) elle's i want to own a typewriter. there's something very pretentious about sitting at a computer. ostentation, put together. im sorry, in a manner perfunctory. i dont believe i should be sorry, overtly understanding. i would call my state of mind for right now over-confidence. im fighting for it, clawing for it, because of the dilution it will undergo under adrenalin and under pressure. the relative apathy helps, the yawning eternity beyond my friday. i believe in tricking yourself into a state of mind, if it's going to help you. please let this last 48 more hours. mantra-calm. clarity is a detachment from your emotions, clarity is the vividness of memory, of thought of mind of strength. and you, silly little comfort zone. your word is mud. you remind me so nicely . ( 12:23:00 AM ) elle's Tomorrow! Give me strawberries! Give me liberty of give me death! Dude my testimonial doesn’t sound like a model student at all, because I am so obviously skewed, because I am so obviously queer. There is No Way I can make myself sound better without twisting the truth beyond breakpoint, there is No Way I can shortchange myself, change what I want to see of myself. Some times when I hit the end of the sentence, I read it back again and I cant tell that I am talking about me. Self awareness issues, the excess baggage. Dude, who am I? And one more thing. you like controversy, then. Michelle said that day. go for it, why not. One fucking lifetime chance. you remind me so nicely . Tuesday, July 06, 2004 ( 9:33:00 PM ) elle's im working it up. i need to be pompous for the next one hour, so i can write my testimonial. i found a picture of weicong's mother. a recording of his voice, singing a corny chinese song. a recording of tienyew's, singing a so-called Original Composition, hurhurhur. we have a banner and a-lots of paint left. we have... pictures of tram routine, 6 more taos before we look our competitors in the eye. i want to win, but at the same time, it's not for me. or am i just saying it, who knows. i want to win because i know my teamates want to win, because i know the coaches want us to win. i want my juniors to win. i dont know if i want to win, if its important enough to me. i just dont want to disappoint myself, and that could mean so many things. zhang said something today about how i dont ever cry, how we've got to be the strongest. i thought about last year and what it felt like, the lamb's to slaugher, the but-it's-not-a-gold syndrome. if i cry this year. the one thing i want: to be able to see things straight through my tears. his words are ringing in my head again, the silver tragedy of yesteryear. emotions and adrenalin and sacrifice aside. what's the end of the world, exactly? feeling ever so pushy, well meaning prick. i hate me. da how i hate you in me, and how i cannot leave you behind because your culture is in my blood. me and my bossy boots, and how i cant stop my self from contol-freak-ing, all over everybody else. next time the alarm bells have to be louder, more jarring, and capable of keeping my mouth shut. i pray that i might have the self-control, to mould myself into a person i want to be. i cant wait to sleep tonight. i've been waiting since yesterday, when i stared up at my ceiling and thought, i never want to get out of here. you remind me so nicely . Sunday, July 04, 2004 ( 1:48:00 PM ) elle's dont know if i should. what would you do. if you were given a sort of chance, a once-in-a-lifetime chance to do something-well not big, but not small. not some thing life-changing, but something that contributes to a bigger thing, a bigger thing that you believe in. oh heck am i making any sense. i wish he'd asked me last year. he says my mom would kill him, i think she would. or she would not, she can talk about doing what you believe in. and i wish i didnt have o's. not this year. but not any year, how the hell do you know when chance might come. but this is a dead-end conversation. so nevermind. i get along with him and recently i've started to believe in what he's going for. because some artists go commercial after a while, start forgetting what they're in it for. churn out frivolous crowd-pleasers any idiot can do that. he talks to my mother about shares. he talks to me about avant garde, restricted artistic. i told him that if i were him i would go for it, because it sounds like heckfun and interesting. we laugh, this is not something you can do in singapore. i know. it's hard not to sell out. especially when you're in a business that spells for making people happy. people, espcially singaporean people. not exactly the most daring bunch, he says. he's a jolt to me, at least every once in a while, when i start to forget. fuck the public opinion. the emperor's new clothes: only a certain kind of people can see them. lament. i know how easy it is to conform. there are many paths of least resistance. and on the way home. i kept thinking, i wish i were stupid. if i didnt have my academics to count on, i would be forced to go in all other directions. i would have chosen to study art, theatre, literature. and. i dont think i can do it. ability wise. i dont have that kind of straightforward gifts, i believe in aesthetics but i dont think i can do it, embody it, like that. i dont know whether he can do it, when he talks about winning, competitions sound like something you could live for. i dont even know, if he knows what he's talking about. i told him i was game, but not like a promise, but he said he'd have to do the background research first. fuck scary, i dont want to let him down. sigh. i dont even know how serious you are about this. heck you might have girls queued round the block to help you. so nevermind, im not going to bust any blood vessels worrying about this. but if it came as a surprise, i dont want to not know what to think. you remind me so nicely . Friday, July 02, 2004 ( 11:37:00 PM ) elle's chocolate truffles, the best kind. hidden from my brother, the endless vacuum of a bottomles pit. so. after changing email three times, i've decided: i'm too tempermental. and let's keep it as that, because at the end. i dont care that much any way. i think eventually i want to write my own testimonial. i keep thinking about this because it's something that is going to affect the Everything I Do after i grad, after i've left my class and after the blowing-your-own-horn thing gets old and forgotten. while i was supposed to last now things like self-delusion kept running through my mind. fact to fact is: the single most thing about me is my conviction, my need to believe in things and feel about them before i can do them. the kind of thing that makes me selectively caring, selectively obedient, selectively sincere. i dont want to ever have to say sorry to myself. i dont want to. intentionally or intentionally, sell out. and i dont believe in blowing your own horn. i dont believe in selling yourself, i dont believe in advertising. i dont believe in things corporate, i dont believe in the religion of money, i dont have the regard and the respect for it. maybe im too young and too idealistic to say. but at the same time i dont want to come to that day when i've lost that about myself. i have a lot of pride, but it's the sort that is mostly silent. the obsessiveness over little things: dreaming up my room, changing my email time after time. and how i cant imagine being different. different conversation. so any way. i've just felt that writing my own testimonial would be one big giant leap into selling myself, selling myself out. i had a long arguement with bailey and he said write a list of traits you personally believe you have, and then go to sleep. next morning wake up and write based on that information, as if you were writing about another person. he can contribute, he says, i tell him i dont know myself at all. but i know a lot more than any one else would. im angry at the prospect. being made to do this. i think of gail and how she can so single-mindedly do this, part of me says its practical and wants to learn from that, but another and bigger part of me screams out that's bloody disgusting. it's not. i know. it's just the notion, my idealism. lahdeedahblahblah says bailey. im confused, i can be single-minded about things that i feel i could lose myself in, but this does not qualify. meanstotheend. manipulation,that'syourterritoryaintit? i dont want to be that kind of person any more. flippingnaive. longrant:youthinktheyfrickcare. lahdeedahblablablah. it'sstupidsystembutit'snecessary. likethegovernement. theworldismadeforstupidpeople, thelowestcommondenominator. i feel everything. falling off. and despite how he pissed me off. i liked bailey's parting words, which if nothing make me feel better: stopfuckthinkingtoomuch. everygirlinyourclassmightbeskinningthemselvesoverthistoo. imnotaskingyoutoloseyouridealismoryourbelief. i'mjustsaying: youwanttomakeitokaywithyourself? it'sjustTheInstitutionofTheWorld. letThemhavetheirflippingtestimonial. you remind me so nicely . Thursday, July 01, 2004 ( 9:04:00 PM ) elle's im not an over-the-phone type, nor an msn-type or an sms type. or even your video conference type. there are only two forms of communication im good at: writing and face to face. everything else feels... at least a little make believe, at least a little misinterpretable. killer pt today. im trying to get myself sorted and its not the best experience. choo says for us to write each other's testimonials: i have no real achievements. save the medals, two years back. im crossing my fingers for next friday, but that's not it at all. im not letting my parents come to watch me compete. part of it is my sense of independence, part of it is: da i really dont want you there. i want to break free. everything about you makes me out to be a disappointment. i dug up old letters, pamphlets from clubmed. i've dispensed the invites from my old gmail account, now i've got one that im actually willing to use. what i want to do. wallpaper my room with double sided tape, corkboards. a million pins and all the time in the world. everything about me is montage. i love how you dont control me. im not mean. i just have a knack for insulting people. touchy. i hope i'll learn, or you'll learn, or that some where along the line you'll forgive me any way. im not asking you to be a Me, though some times i know it may seem that way. yeah im good at that too. im two hours over due, and computers are always a mistake. you remind me so nicely . |
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