Me as summed up by television shows/fictional characters

on myself

on love

on emotions

on socialising most of the time sometimes

on independence

on uncertainties

are there giants too, in the dance?

If Ernest Hemingway is my religion then she is my soul.

Did you see that shooting star tonight?

❝ We were always alone, even together. ❞

Got my baby shipped from UK and it arrived right before I started my finals so guess who wasn't studying. For those who weren't privy to this information, I'm really into poetry recently. Really really. I will live and breathe poetry if that's permissible.

It wasn't until a short time ago that I actually found out there's a difference between poetry and poem. I have always thought that they're one and the same: which goes to explain why I haven't been in this fandom (yes i'm calling this love for poetry of mine a fandom, sue me) from the start as poems have always given me a boring vibe.

It just can't be helped, I mean have you guys read the poems that we were required to learn in high school? They are just plain boring. Maybe it's just me but after countless times of reading, dissecting, assuming what the underlying message of 'The Road Not Taken' actually is, I've grown an aversion to poems. I'm learning to love it now so that's a start I guess. 

Moving on, I have just finished my second semester's finals so this is definitely a valid reason to just rot at home for the coming three weeks - preferably buried to my nose with my recent purchases. I have never been more glad that a semester is over. This semester felt that it's never going to end, more like four years rather than four months. It doesn't help that I've hit so many lows during this period of time.

Awful luck (bad just don't do it) has been dogging my every step for the past few weeks - from losing my phone's memory card to being the inadvertent complice in helping my mom lose her phone. It has been terrible and I'm afraid this is going to persist until the year ends because this is not the year for rooster. I'd rejoice if superstitious is not one of the very few inherent chinese traits embedded in me but alas.

I'm seriously considering going for some ritual to rid myself of this awful luck. Ahahahha just kidding...or am I? To put it plainly, I'm already a doom-and-gloom pessimist to begin with, so adding superstitious-ness on top of that is not a good combination - it's just a matter of time before I drive myself to an early grave. 

To digress, I can be an awfully frustrating person to be around and this can be attested by many and also the following conversation. Just a prelude: my brother was home for a week during my study break so I was asking him for his calculator as I was sitting for a statistic paper this semester.

Me: Eh, lend me your calculator I need it for stats.

Bro: Use your own lar. You don't have meh?

Me: Got. I have two but what if they both run out of battery. I don't remember the last time I changed the them, I think it was for SPM. Can die ok if halfway they die on me.

Bro: If i give you then I don't have to use ah?

(He's going back to uni before I sit for the paper)

Me: You say you got two what so give me one lar.

Mom: Aiyo, simple. Go change battery lar. 

Me: Cannot!!! What if I go and change then the new batteries the shop give are spoiled and they die on me also?!

* My mom and brother looked at each other exasperatedly and promptly proceed to ignore me -.- *

Suffice to say, I got them changed in the end and much to my relief they didn't die on me. I'm paranoia extraordinaire if you haven't noticed. For spm, I brought in a whole box of newly bought pens, multiple pencils, two rulers, two erasers, etc and i'm still doing this up till now. Few sems back, during one of my finals a lecturer took a pen of mine for this other student whose pen has ran outta ink because my table was the one fully stocked. Lol

So yeah, you get the gist. There's supposed to be a few good things thrown into this post but the word-vomit so far has taken a toll on me and I have forgotten what the point of this post it so yeah byeeeee

P.s: I'll pledge my eternal sunshine-y soul to you if anyone of you get this for me <3

Bilik Tidur

I find something magical in the concept of a bedroom. Maybe it's because I spend so much time in this room, compared to the others, or maybe it's because it's the one part of the house that I should have the most say in and yet don't.

For most part of my life, I didn't have a bedroom all to myself.

A tragedy I'd say.

The problem did not lie in me having to share this supposedly sacred space of mine but that I have no power over it at all.

Being brought up in an almost-traditional chinese household means that there's no such thing as interior design. Pragmatic is the way to go with white walls and sensible furnitures. Theme, you say? What theme? Things are bought according to their use and their estimated mileage.

"What's so nice about this shelf? Buy this one lar, this one better. It looks sturdier so can last longer. Why do you need that one anyway? Not practical."

Albeit this being applied to almost everything else, the inability of me having a say in what I considered my temple had me feeling trapped. Confined. Powerless.

I hated it.

Back in the old house, despite having limited space, I used to move the furnitures in my room around. I do it every few months or when fancy took me by a whim. Even if it's just moving my bookshelf from this end to the other end, I'm content with it.

There's this unexplainable need inside of me to always see a change. Have a change. Be the change.

Yet, I needed things to match too. I've lost count of the number of times that I tried persuading my mom on how matching pillowcase,bedsheet and bedding are vital to my wellbeing. And they are. But I don't think she ever took me seriously nor do I think she will.

Is this what generation gap is all about?

give me your heart and i'll give you my love

Friend: You see chiahui. She doesn't even have a crush on anyone.

Me: I do. Many of them in fact. Too many.

That, people is a general misconception and so I'm doing another post on  human beings that I'm in love with in order to not appear like a cold blooded animal with no feelings whatsoever but don't be fooled by this post because i actually am all the aforementioned just that i'm a really good liar.

This is a post on my girl crushes. They are all amazing singers whose songs have been on repeat since I discovered them and their voices makes me go awwwwwwww ♥♥♥. Also, this is the continuation on people I'm in love with, only this is the singer edition. (although I cheated wtf as hannah was featured before in the band post and sydney is actually in a band also but they're still singer in general so ok la)

Aren't they gorgeous? /swoons/

To be honest, I have an unhealthy obsession with awkward, quirky, ethereal-looking singer songwriter/females in general. I mean if I were to see a beautiful girl/woman/actress/singer, I'd go all ''oh, she's so beautiful" and that would be it; an admiration of the beautiful genes of some people without any investment of my feelings.

However, if you place me in a scenario with me discovering awkward, dorky, quirky females, especially singer songwriter, I will be an uninhibited version of myself. Not only will I feel things like, ''awwwww you cute lil adorable piece of pancake, come to mama" (ignore how pedophilic i sound please) I'll actually proceed to do every single incoherent cooing sound complete with the gushiest gestures you can ever find me displaying.

Sorry (no i'm not) if I'm creeping you out with this fixation of mine but there's just something about this kind of females that brings out my blindly-in-love alter ego.

I'm not judging you on who you're crushing on, unless you're actually one of the many millions of blind teens who believe that JB is hawt then yes I'm giving you my deadliest judgmental glares, so don't judge me on mine.

Just so you know, I don't support society's definition of a great singer. Just because one can belt out tunes, it doesn't mean that he or she is definitely an amazing singer. I understand that each person has their own musical taste but the constant, "She can reach high notes so she'll definitely win this competition and goes on to be the best singer in the world" is pissing me off. 

Maybe this is the bitter side of me who still begrudges reality singing competitions for screwing over my favourites but I stand by my point.

I'm not saying that those who can belt out tunes can't sing, they can and their ability to do so should be applauded but I'm just one of those weird ones who are smitten with those hauntingly ethereal voices who are so much harder to find.

This doesnt need a title

Degree so far has been pretty messy and meh. None of the subjects I'm taking this semester seems intriguing enough, except maybe for sports journalism. And I reckon that's only because  I have a kickass lecturer. Hopefully, football will be covered in it though.

The only highlight for the past week is probably this conversation that I had:

"Thanks for helping me getting an A."

"It's nothing, everything's your hard work."

"Yes meh? I think I just got lucky. I didn't even know how to answer one of the definitions."

"No lar. I think you did very well."

"Seriously? You're not just saying this to make me happy?"

"You know I don't give A easily right?"

"Ahahah. Of course. That's why I was so afraid and stressed out"

"Degree is not so easy, some say diploma is just a honeymoon period."

"I know. Which is why I'm quite apprehensive."

"But you can do it."

"I'll try."

" Don't try. I don't want try. You must do it because you're the quality type. You're not the type to be so easily satisfied."

"It's only because of that that I barely had a wink of sleep the day before your assignment submission. ahahah"

"You know, I added one more thing for your juniors."

"What?"

"Source. Now in addition to why and so I also ask them for sources."

"AHAHAHHAHAHHAHAH"

That last part. I can't even begin to imagine how tortured they are in his classes but suffering aside, his classes are really enjoyable.

He's one of the very few lecturer that I like what more respect and I rarely respect any one. I love how he challenged us to think critically and also how it's so easy to converse with him. Compared to many others who dictate us to only follow what they say, he's the only one who kept encouraging me to challenge him instead. 

I believe that everyone needs to meet at least one radical teacher like him in their lifetime. Besides him, the only other lecturers whom I genuinely like can be counted on one hand itself. My awesome drama lecturer who not only brought me to my first play but also treated me vip tickets to the 'Gulliver's Traveller' when it was staged in my campus. She's also the cute one who inquired after my well being upon seeing my whatsapp status (it was actually derived from ATL's lyrics). I mean how cute is that?

I'm quite fond of my copy editing lecturer who is also my ex-programme supervisor. I mean a lecturer who minutes after congratulating you on your well deserved grade asked if you still think he's strict in an adorable manner (after repeatedly hinting in class the that he's not strict because someone *coughmecough* implied it that once. once ) deserves some points in my book.

To be honest, now that they joy of getting 4.00 has wane I'm more happy over the fact that I have actually gotten an A for Malaysian and International Relations. Maybe it's because people rarely get an A for this or maybe it's just that I'm not satisfied of my overall cgpa for diploma. 

Either way, I'm back to being restless and this is not a feeling that I welcome. I need distractions and hopefully what I'm planning to dabble in will give me them.

When I act this way I hope that it's OK

I think I'm growing a backbone.

Figuratively speaking of course. I've noticed that gradually starting from last year I'm no longer such a pushover. I used to be so afraid of offending people that I tended to just agree with whatever people say, cower from voicing out my opinion, saying yes to favours that are really taxing on myself. Unless I hate you then these don't apply. Thinking back I can't believe how pathetic I was. Ugh.

As a matter of fact, I actually politely told the people from SM off for calling me for the third time in a week (although the third phone call could be excused) and that was really a wake up call for me on how much I've changed as a person since I was technically showing a stance against an organization.

The thing was, I had someone from SM called me for two days in a row, the first was to ask  if I was using S3 and when I said no he asked me what's the brand of my phone then the second day he called me again to ask what's the phone model. It was really annoying because on both accounts he called me when I was working. I concur that I'm not working on some super important job like saving the world from aids or working on a cure for cancers but still it's irritating to be called twice for some information that could have been collected from the first phone call itself.

So by the time I got the third phone call from them I was sorta pissed already, granted that the woman was a different person from the guy who called me previously but still. The awkward thing was I actually got the third phone call when I was waiting for my appointment at the dentist so it was kinda weird for other people to be listening in on my conversation but since I was pissed then I didn't take into account of that.

Speaking of which, did you know that I actually harbor fear for dentists. This sounds so cliche but I'm really afraid of going to the dentist. If you're close to me you might think that this fear of mine is so misplaced because hey I'm actually someone who laughs out loud (I just plainly refused to use lol) when I watched horror movies and I absolutely loathe females who scream when they watched that genre of movie because seriously that's just fake.

Who'd actually scream out of fear while watching those horribly manufactured laughter-inducing movie?

Besides, I'm not afraid of insects or lizards with the exception of rats but rats are not in those categories so it's not counted. And those two fears are generally what people mostly associates females' fear with. Stereotypical I know but that's just the society that we live in nowadays. So it might be a tad difficult to fathom how I'm afraid of  a person with a profession that involves dental care. I don't know what my fear stemmed from as I didn't have any horrible experience with dental on the whole but for as long as I remembered I have always been afraid of the dentist, even back then when I didn't used to go for checkups regularly.

Anyway, fears aside, dentist definitely topped my list of the most disgusting job ever.

Playing shoots and ladder

I cannot fathom how unbelievably chinese my brother is.

Yet when I think about it, I realized that I'm the least chinese one in the family so maybe I'm adopted. This calls for a whole lengthy blogpost to explain on the why but I find that I can't be bothered to do so, so some other day when I'm more in the mood perhaps.

Then again, I'm rarely in the mood to do anything nowadays so it might take a while.

I'm in danger of being dubbed as a social recluse as all I've been doing since the start of this semester break was to hole up in my room with my trusted lappy, hard drive, phone and books. Being in the age where many might say is the peak of my life I'm finding myself more and more disinclined to go out and socialize  A fact that I know for sure peers my age would frown and shake their heads on but then again why would one be bothered about one insignificant lil me.

To be honest, even I acknowledge the fact that yours truly behaves like an eighty years old woman who lives with her nineteen cats but I hate cats and if I do have to end up as a spinster I would choose to live with shelves and shelves of books rather than living beings as I am a misanthropist like that.

So, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by my wayward thoughts on how I hate the world, I've developed a slightly more than fanaticism towards my bedroom and wouldn't it be nice if I get to live in my bedroom for the rest of forever. I mean a four wall (although there's more than four walls in my room) sanctuary where I'm shielded from the proverbial cold, unforgiving and often scary world of reality. Of course I'd rather just stay in this comfortable haven of mine with my books to keep me company.

With that said, don't you agree that life would be a lot simpler if one do not need to eat, sleep, study, earn money, spend said money, stress on said spending and the cycle repeats. Wouldn't one be a lot more content if all we need in life is to read and breathe books? Wouldn't that be a very fictional life to live?

A make believe but what's wrong with a dose of play pretend because nothing bad ever happens to the protagonist or if it does everything will end in happily ever after. Isn't that what we all grow up believing in?

Truth to be told, I myself don't get what the purpose of this post is other than the need to pen down all the intermittent thoughts who have found it in themselves to bug the life out of me. Short thought provoking questions that have been weighing down on my sense of happiness and contentment but nothing worse than the drama that has been happening around me.

Or maybe this state of ambivalence of mine is brought on by the fact that Chinese New Year is less than a month away. Only god knows how much I hate this celebration, if this sorry excuse to spend a lengthy amount of time with the relatives who I've been gifted, or in this case cursed, with can be called a celebration.

And this is one of the reasons why I'm a travesty excuse of a chinese: I absolutely detest the one sacred celebration that normal chinese look forward to.

Don't get me wrong because I do love the angpau part. Which sane person who knows the worth of these bills wouldn't? I just hate the time that I have to spend on these unnecessary people. It would be bearable if I have a semblance of indifference towards them but I actually hate these people with fervour and passion so I absolutely abhor this celebration that screams of bright red colour and loud noisy music.

And for all of those politically correct dumbasses who would like to comment on how if I hate these people I should refrain from getting the monies from said relatives, I beg to differ. If I have to spend my precious time away from doing what I wanted to do and in its place spend it with people whom I dislike, these monies are just a small compensation.

Besides, money is everything in this dog eat dog world. If I don't take them it's not gonna prove any of my stances but would rather only illustrate on how stupid I am.

Yup I'm a hypocrite but when have I ever said that I'm not.

*

P.s:  Before any cat lovers hunt me down I would like to clarify that I don't exactly hate cats - not that I love them either - I was just elaborating my point. Although I've gotta say that I find animals way cuter when I don't have to take care of them, pet them and just ooh and aah-ing over their cuteness from afar, preferably behind a monitor screen. Tsk tsk tsk kids with technology these days /shakes head/

Of bridesmaid fear wtf

I'm down with fever, flu and cough which should be suffice a reason for the huge ass picture below. Being sick always compel me to do something which I will inevitably regret later on. Cue: Huge ass picture and random blogpost. If you have been reading my blog for some time now, I'm sure you'll have come to the conclusion that I only blog long wordy post that serve as cathartic outlet for me.

And unfortunately reading my blog often means wasting your time on these lengthy, indirect and picture-less (oh the horror!) blog posts of mine. I mean those would have been acceptable if they are entertaining, right? But they are not so I understand perfectly if you decide to click on the red x button on the upper right hand corner of your computer screen.

Ok why am I blogging like I actually do have readers when the truth is I don't? *hides in corner and cries from dejection*

OK. OK. So, I have officially gone nuts but in my defense, I'm really sick so...

(Read from bottom to top)

Anyway, lack of readers aside, this picture is a compilation of what I tweeted in twitter the other day. Somehow, reading about all your favourite bloggers getting married or preparing to get married can germinate some kind of irrational-bridesmaid-fear in one. Or maybe it's just me because as the world now knows: yours truly do not have that many a friend. Sad, right?

Not really.

I can't really be bothered by it unless the church bells are ringing in my ear but they are not so I'll just ignore this anti-social habit of mine till someone actually wants to marry me and only then I'll start worying or I'll just bribe people in becoming my friend/bridesmaids for the day.

In rumination, I seriously do not get why people bothered with all the traditional hoohaa (regardless race and religion) when they decided to tie the knot. For me, wedding and marriage is a matter of two people who have come to the conclusion that they want to spend their lives together in a legally binding commitment. If that is the case, then why bother with what so-and-so says we must do or what so-and-so dictates our wedding to be. To hell with it.

If I ever do get married, all I'll have is a simple quaint wedding with just my immediate family members around. To hell with the nine-course-mediocre-food banquet filled with annoying-and-often-unknown relatives whom I have develop a fondness to hate. I even told my mom this idea of mine and being the traditional chinese mother that she is, I had expected her to go "You mad ar? I'll disown you if you do that" on me but amazingly she actually agrees with me that those traditional hooha are actually a waste of money, time and effort.

So traditional chinese wedding to hell you go and quaint beach side wedding here I come!!! That is if anyone is actually willing to marry this obstinate, unreasonable, paranoid, emotionally detached, antisocial, mean, egoistical, crude and pessimistic person that I am.

On an unrelated note, I think that one of the signs that you're no longer being blinded or fooled by Hollywood's glam is when you read about the allegedly  judges feud between Mariah Carey and Nicki Minaj on American Idol and you instantly knew that it's just another pathetic attempt from the producer to raise the rating of the show. And for those that genuinely believe the story, you can gladly go and jump down the Klang river or something because it's such a blatantly obvious move that the blind would have seen through it too.

This will definitely be a post that I'll cringe to see after I'm done floating on a cough-syrup and coconut water induced stupor so I might as well just end this post with a very embarrassing conversation that I had in lecture yesterday.  Btw, I really don't get what is so funny about it or maybe I just don't get it because I'm sick. But it's seriously not funny lor.

Lecturer: Anymore questions?

Me: How do you develop reliable sources?

Lecturer: By making friends.

Me: How do you make friends?

Class: *erupts into laughter*

See. What is so funny about that?! I seriously do not get what why they started laughing but before I embarrass myself further, I'll just stop here in case I scare away what little readers that I actually have (if there's any left) with my insanity illness.  Kthxbai.


P.s: Ignore my spelling and grammar errors if there is any because let me reiterate again: I am sick so pardon me if my english is not up to par. 

It's a mad, mad world, gotta make an escape

In the midst of courting after that lil bit more of perfection. 

Moments worth remembering

I can never willingly or unwillingly give my books away unless I'm really forced to. And by really, I mean really really forced like with a gun on my head, and I'm a minuscule step away from falling off the cliff with huge gigantic ugly rats on the bottom of the cliff waiting to kill me with their disgusting squishy body on the rare chance that I did not die from falling off the cliff. Or in a more normal and less dramatic scenario: when I moved and even then the books that I'll give away are the books that I'm really not interested in anymore (which is very few btw). Why you may ask. Because there are times when before I go to sleep I'll head over to my bookshelf and pick a random book to reread. After picking whatever book that my mood dictates, I'll then curl up on my bed and skim through the said book again. Pure unadulterated bliss I tell you. And it is during moments like this that I'll mentally categorize the books and authors into great, okay and so-so because to me, a great book is the one where when you read through the book for the second, third or fourth time and your breath still hitch at how beautifully written the words are and you're reminded again why you love that book so much; that for me is the definition of a great book and an author who is able to wove an awe-inspiring story with beautifully and thought provoking words will automatically be hail as an amazing writer too. And then I'll wish really hard that someday I will be able to write as beautifully as those had before me. 

One of the things that I want to say just aren't coming out right

I'm an average student; not overly bright but neither can I be called dumb. I hated studying back in upper secondary and it's prolly because of the fact that I took on subjects that i have naught an interest in. Albeit hating the subject and loathing them on every second of my schooling life, I knew the importance of education which means I studied for exams even if it means studying them the night prior. Whenever I got my just-average result, I'm often content because I know that your results are often proportionate to the effort that you put in unless you got really really lucky. And when you put in as little effort as I did, one wouldn't complain much about the just-average results that you get. 

However, whenever one of the smart students in my class asked for an extra mark for their solution in Additional Mathematics or when one of them debate with the teachers on their reasoning in their Chem/Bio/Physics answers even when they have already gotten a 90+ in that particular paper, I often scoffed at them with a haughty air of condescension. More often than not, I felt that these people are just being kiasu. I used to think that: "What is an extra one mark gonna do for your 95 marks? That one mark is not gonna elevate your A+ to A++, no?" Maybe I was one of those people who never really cared about my studies and yet begrudged those that do. Or maybe back then, I just didn't try to see or understand it from their point of view. But I do now.

Because why settle for less when you can have more?

You would never really understand someone unless you are put in their shoes and even then the circumstances, emotions and surrounding factors would still influence your understanding of them. I don't know what make them asked for that extra marks and I don't think so I would actually ask them two years down the road but I do know what it feels like to want to strive for that little bit more of perfection. Because after all isn't that what I have been doing for the past year and still doing now?

If I'm being totally honest with myself, I would say that I was jealous of them and since being jealous of 'kiasu' was not acceptable, I masked my jealousy under a condescending scoff. And when  this realization dawned onto me, I realized how deformed our society has become. I'm not speaking on behalf of everyone but I do know that most people had at one point or another, did or thought of doing what I had done to those classmates of mine: to judge them on their strive to success when we're supposed to be happy or supportive of them.

We had become so selfishly entangled in our pride and ego that we turn into a green eye monster whenever we see other people achieving more than what they are supposed to. And that bagged another question to ponder upon: who are we to deem what one can or cannot achieve? We also perpetually try to put others down just in order to feel that tiny bit more better of ourselves. Is it actually worth it? And As Oprah as this may sound, I believe that everyone can achieved more than what they think they can if only they believe,work hard for it and have a strong support system from their family and friends.

And maybe, just maybe, if we can only be a lil more supportive to the people around us, I think that this can actually be a better place to live in.

Days like this I want to drive away

 “Perhaps the greatest faculty our minds possess is the ability to cope with pain. Classic thinking teaches us of the four doors of the mind, which everyone moves through according to their need. First is the door of sleep. Sleep offers us a retreat from the world and all its pain. Sleep marks passing time, giving us distance from the things that have hurt us. When a person is wounded they will often fall unconscious. Similarly, someone who hears traumatic news will often swoon or faint. This is the mind’s way of protecting itself from pain by stepping through the first door. Second is the door of forgetting. Some wounds are too deep to heal, or too deep to heal quickly. In addition, many memories are simply painful, and there is no healing to be done. The saying ‘time heals all wounds’ is false. Time heals most wounds. The rest are hidden behind this door. Third is the door of madness. There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. While this may not seem beneficial, it is. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind. Last is the door of death. The final resort. Nothing can hurt us after we are dead, or so we have been told.”   

 — Patrick Rothfuss (The Name of the Wind)

Home is where the heart is

8 things i realized/rediscovered about myself while packing:

• i always thought that i started writing when i was 16 but then i discovered this red and purple notebook hidden between junks of mine that told me otherwise; it seems that i started writing when i was seven; it was a crappy love story centered between two sisters and a guy and amazingly it was written in bm.
• i have various ambitions; when i was 7 i wanted to be a nurse then i wanted to be a police or a teacher. then i envisage myself as a lawyer and up until f3, i had wanted to be either a lawyer or a photographer.
• i used to write diaries like nobody's business up until i was fourteen and gosh rereading what you wrote daily when you're a mere child/infatuated teen is so damn embarrassing. also my english were horrible; the spelling, the grammar etc. it also reminds me who i used to be before things happened.
• i have more clothes than one could ask for and yet i don't have anything to wear.
• i used to be a BIG fan of taiwanese drama; as in those sappy love stories which more or less have the same story line but different casts. and i actually collects newspaper cuttings, badges, stickers and posters of my favorite drama.i don't know when i stopped watching them but the only taiwanese drama I watched nowadays are the long winded hokkien drama which have different story line but same casts (the irony!).
• ten years of my life could be packed up in only five boxes and three of 'em are filled with books.
• i'm definitely a girly girl when i was young. i used to love pink and barbie doll. i have about eleven to twelve barbie dolls and tons of barbie doll merchandises. i remember that up until i was eleven, whenever i scored academically i would ask for a new barbie doll. i even attended barbie's birthday in 1u once. unfortunately i gave them all away for this move. i had wanted to keep one but i just couldn't pick one and i feel unfair for the rest that i have to give away so in the end i gave up all of them.
• amazingly after spending ten years of my life living there i don't miss the house but the people whom i would be leaving behind.

A dose of happiness

i'm way past the stage where i still believe in happily ever after, however, i won't deny the fact that i occasionally indulge myself with some cheesy korean drama series and truth is most of the time i do enjoy them but never once did it disillusioned my stance that happily ever after does not exist. i'm ever the cynic in the romance chapter and it suits me that way and yet when i was stoning in front of my laptop willing for the darn tarc website to load for me to register my co-curriculum so that i'll be able to crawl back to my bed and sleep for my 8am class today, i stumbled upon something not so accidentally; something that made my heart flutters and had me thinking that maybe happily ever after does exist albeit only for a few and far between people. people who are lucky enough to stumble upon lady romance and managed to coaxed her to stay happily ever after in their life.

p/s: http://quaintly.net/2011/09/sunset-during-seminar/

You tie me down

There is only so much you can do before you realize you just need to let go and not let it bother you anymore — Tumblr

And she twirls around and around

Semester 1 has officially ended!

I had my last paper yesterday then the bunch of us went down to KL to just hang around. We started off with McD then LowYat then when the rest were headed to Pavillion, I wandered off to look for my sandals. I fell down the stairs in college on Tuesday and like luck would have it, my sandals broke (and I was wearing a mini skirt. Oh the horror!) so I was urgently and desperately in need for a new sandals for my trip to Taiwan on Monday. Managed to bought one comfortable yet chic sandal within my budget then met the rest in Sg.Wang's Snowflake.

I had wanted to go back already before HuanHee texted me and asked me to accompany her to eat Snowflake in Sg.Wang (the coincidence) and after several seconds of persuasion and several minutes of reluctance, I decided to stay back after all and waited for her. I had a round of Snowflake with her and met her boy before we wandered off and stayed nearly two hours in Cotton On. It was late already when we headed back to college and hence with no choice I hastily packed all my four months of remnants of hostel stay before headed home.

Overall I guess I did okay for my finals, however, I'm not that sure that 4.00 CGPA is still within my grasp. I think I blew off my chance of getting an A for Intro to IT when I wasted 1 1/2 days of the 2 days allocated to revise for IT by reading fictions (old habit die hard). The Journalism paper was hard also as in like I had just enough time to do all the four questions only.But still I'm praying, hoping and wishing that I can still get A for all five papers. Semester 1 was fun and I heard that Semester 2 promised to be hectic. I can't wait or Semester 2 to start although my 3 weeks holiday had just begun and I will be starting the iconic start of Semester2 on my 18th birthday. Till then I shall rot for 2 weeks at home.

On an unrelated note, I was perusing through my fb when I came to the fact that a very close friend of mine from when I was working at Celebrity has started college and I was stunned. For me, all my colleagues at Celebrity are mature and adult albeit the fact that some of them are only two or three years older than me. So when I found out that someone whom I deemed to be so adult and mature are going through the same phase-college- as me I was a tad too stunned before I came to my senses and feel elated for her. Although I only know her for a mere three months, she's more of a closer friend to me than some whom I have known for years. She's a strong lady who handles the difficulties life had thrown at her without faltering. A lady that despite her complicated childhood and difficult adolescent has turned out to be who no one has expected her to be and for that I hope you'll be a successful psychologist, monyet :D

P.s: I really hope you will remember. I really do.

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I write to give myself strength. I write to be the characters that I am not. I write to explore all the things I’m afraid of.