we cannot change the cards we are dealt,
just how we play the hand.
Tuesday, July 30, 2002
9:04 AM
Life - Lies, Ironies, Fallacies, Emotions
Online chats are screened with an invisible filter, sieving all forms of emotions. Hand signals, facial expressions, the flick of a smile, the streak of a frown, are found not on these chats. Yet, i go online.
I think its my form of escapism from the real world, to chat with aquiantances without the hassle of a claptrap. Over the net, we talk about anything and everything. When everything slowly dwindles to less things to nothing, you just simply morph into a sitting veggie awaiting people to come online for everything yet nothing. Its as if they were everything to you, but when they finally do come online, you realise its silly anticipation for nothing.
Fangxi's right about one thing, " there are so many times when you look forward so much to coming online at night, but when you actually are online, you find yourself regretting. the people you really want to talk to are not online, the conversations you are having with the people online are so excruciatingly painful because you just can't find anything to say. yet you refuse obstinately to just close icq because without constand icq messages, you feel lonely. you refuse to just disconnect your modem too because you don't feel like doing anything else apart from typing frantically in front of the computer screen.
there are some people whom you always talk to when you come online. always. at first everything was light and easy. you have a lot of things to talk about. but as time goes by, you start to feel as if talking to that person is a burden. you have less things to talk about, and everything just seems to fall flat. you feel like ending the conversation, but fear that he or she will just stop talking to you over icq altogether. you don't want to lose him or her not because that person is a friend, but more of the selfish reason that he or she can help you dissipitate your loneliness. sometimes you want to talk about a certain something, but both of you are on such different frequencies that you dare not bring it up. "
More often that not, we have this perculiar habit of treating nothing as everything. Same goes for popularity, relationships, infatuation... no, these are hasty generalisations not.
I have been a regular online goer, from lower sec days pleading operator status in lame channels, to sec 3 days carving out a reputation in ftp serving and file uploads, to sec 4 days in establishing a firm foundation for Lai and Lai Co. All these years, i've been multitasking, chatting while trading, typing while burning...
These days though, a fatigue courses through my veins like a sizzling venom. The daily basketball sessions and pushup workouts are finally getting into me... i try to struggle through tutorials on my bed, but first contact with my pillow causes me to melt and shrivel, just like a prune with the water content swoooooshed out of it. i can't bring myself to talk on the phone (yes, i don't even call anyone these days, not even her), i can't bring myself to the third floor to switch on the computer, i can't bring myself to sms anyone else but her, i can't bring myself to organise regular outings with my other cliques anymore.
And think me, on one starry moony night, i've been lonely. i am lonely. True, my taskbar may need the scroll down button on friday nights when icq messages come in torrents, true, i may be an outgoing sociable kid, true, i do go out and feel accepted. But? Popularity's fleeting, friendships last. I've been blinded by this online screen i can no longer differentiate friends from aquaintances. Who do i confide in? Who would i cry on? To whom would i unveil the puny kid beneath the tall lanky shell?
Alvin just posted something about being lost... " Today, more often than not, when we say "lost" we often mean not the physical sense of lost, but rather in a more intangible sort of way. For example a lost person doesn't know his direction or purpose in life. Many of us don't realise this, but we indeed have lost the innocence and naiveness we used to have as a child. "
I ain't lost. I have my personal beliefs and aims and purposes in life. One of my beliefs is that "everyone is nice when you finally get to know them", while my all time purpose in life is "to remain happy, no matter what".
Happiness can be achieved from 1001 ways, i can still be happy if i were to be retained, i can still be happy if i watched the meteor shower during my promos, but yinbing had gently reminded me once that my purpose in life was too out-of-the-box. Okay, so i'll submerge myself within this dirty black box called life and there blows, promos seem to be round the corner.
I am lost.
the voices in my head-
Saturday, July 27, 2002
9:23 AM
Pensieve Needed
It has been a week since i updated this little thing, and somehow, i realise that beneath the nonsensical bloglets lies a pensieve which can help siphon out one's thoughts. It enables one to reflect upon what he did, and what he should do, and how he thinks. Which is especially what i need now.
A lot has happened over this week, events which tire me out so much i could not even bring myself up to the computer to go online. I realised that i'm left with less than 100000 minutes to promos. Every night, there's a voice in my head which bears an uncanny resemblance to my mother's prodding my guilty consciousness to study.
Oh well, my class had a sudden urge for a bbq yesterday, but since we had no permit to dig up istana park or botanic gardens to serve as a makeshift pit, we had to settle for a picnic. Plesantly, more than half the class turned up despite the last minute status. We went to PS Liberty Market to purchase our picnictries, and emerging onto the 1st floor at around 8, nearly everyone from every clique i knew was there! Terence and his girl were dressed in jungle outfits, while dalglish cher and the councillors were there to catch an ancient movie. Tienfun was there too, and so were Junhao, Jieqi and co., not forgetting Feimeng and his guilty face when we spotted his gal.
Lugging bags of dead pigs and processed flour, we finally settled ourselves at fort canning. Only after downing all that food did we realise that our guts surpassed our sensibility to lay a picnic on a cemetry at 9 in the night. We then proceeded to a lighted stairway after that sumptuous meal to exchange school ghost stories till 11. The stories, however, were far from ghastly, especially when frederick and alvin shared their little expereinces did we develop our ebbs from the incessant roars of laughter that pierced through the silence of the night.
Sandra returned to singapore for vacation, and she gave me 5 pairs of funky boxers for a belated birthday present. Really sweet of her, met up and talked over lunch. Still looked as angelic as ever, she has apparently been voted faculty princess during orientation at australia, then we were supposed to go to west mall for a movie, but something ignited a thought in my mind, and i gave really lame reason that i had to go home. Till now, i still could not decipher the reason of that rejection, nor the thoughts that streaked across my mind that day. Closest i could reason with myself is the emergence of fear and misacceptation, fear of history repeating, fear of misunderstanding, fear of fear.
Oh sigh. I haven't seen her for days. Oh, make it many days, coz that day when i finally met up with her, she literally chased me back to school after an hour or so.. bleh! Love precedes all boundaries, one told me, and absence makes the heart grows fonder. just hoping it ain't a sign of drifting apart or the beginning of an end.
Guess i'll stop here for now, i'm mighty sleepy, and aching all over from yesterday's soccer session when alvin attempted a few murder slides and frederick launched a rock-hard body onto me.
"There's a truth in your eyes you've never left me..." -- R. Keating
the voices in my head-
Saturday, July 20, 2002
8:39 AM
My 3 Lovers
aWak3n|nG is the thief of sleep.
Sleep is the thief of time.
Procrastination is the thief of time.
WaiKit is the thief of procrastination.
In Alibaba and the forty thieves, each and every thief is unique, different and they just couldn't get along. They framed each other as selfish desires and greed overwhelmed them.
In aWak3n|nG and his fourty winks, each thief, from aWak3n|nG to WaiKit, from Sleep to Procrastination, loved each other so much they were willing to sacrifice each other for one another. aWak3n|nG loved procrastination as WaiKit loved sleep, whilst such love was boundless and stretched from one end of the universe to another. It wasn't lust, neither was it infactuation, it was divine love unexperienced by any mortal. David Bowie once said that "the greatest thing is to love and to be loved in return", indeed, such degree of love certainly lived up to its definition. WaiKit is the greatest lover on earth, and his 3 holy love mates which flutters around him 24-7 are a divine gift thunderstruck from he who sits above.
Alas, I ain't muslim. I can't practise polygamy. I shall love her and her only, screw my holy love mates. Screw procrastination. Screw sleep. Its 9 more weeks to promos. ARGH. 9 weeks! 63 days! 1512 hours! 90720 minutes!
Okay. I've just wasted yet another 1/90720 of my remaining unchained freedom updating this blog.
the voices in my head-
Wednesday, July 17, 2002
6:59 AM
Khaki Heaven
I want to remain unknown, like a lurking shadow behind the high profilers. I want to be unidentified, to whisk through a day without attaining unwanted attention. I want to be silent, unacknowledged...
I'd rather take the role of... hmm, fangxi? studious and busy. Or mingwei? inert and carefree...!
Widya kindly reminded me today that i was famous, but it dawned upon me that infamous suited me better, or perhaps notorious. People have asked me how i had attained such a status, how a 2nd intaker could be suspended, as if it were some widely acclaimed achievement. Much as high profilers bask in the limelight, the intensity could be so strong it stings your skin.
Just this morning, i was suddenly stunned by 6 incoming calls which included gabriel, ranieri, lydia at the same time... Apparently, Jtan was blaring throughout the auditorium for my name along with some other high profilers to check for silly attendance. As i was the only one absent (nono, i was released late from GP essay writing periods), she ranted a countdown which sounded hilariously like an auction. Soonafter, i burst into full view for her highness, then proceeded to take a seat when sms started flooding me, mostly enquiring what sparked that little hoohaa.
I want to skip lectures without having the need of signed attendance. I want to be able not to do tutorials and escape unscathed. I want to remain anonymous... to be an innominate.
the voices in my head-
Monday, July 15, 2002
7:39 AM
White Heaven
"It seems like, in school, people never notice you when you want to say 'hi'. They always seem to look away. The only way to catch their attention is to become loudly conspicuous. Dance around in red. Shout out loud. Do backflips. Those kind of thing. RJC seems to thrive on loud noises and conspicuous people." -kT
"It's become all so unfamiliar. I don't know nor do I understand myself anymore. I've already lost track of what I wanted to achieve when I first stepped into college-hood. It's disgusting. I look at the people around me, people whom I used to know, people whom I used to joke with, go out with, even quarrel with, now I find them un-interesting. I don't even want to strike up a conversation with them. I don't even want to greet them. Yet there are others whom I want to talk with, to find out how they've been since the last time we met, but I never seem to get the chance. I just hope that I can find something to indulge myself in, and forget about what's going on around me, because it's not interesting nor worth finding out anymore." -jB
"lets see...school. it still sucks, it is still a waste of time, it is still all the things i have said they are a million times over and you wouldn't expect that to change in 2 weeks. ah good old reliable school. " -dG
What in the big blooming world had struck rJ? School sucks, so says nurul and olivia from their notes and letters. The hypocrisy and gossip which wafts around the atmosphere is seemingly suffocating once happy individuals. Even shortpal cherie and funky mel who bubble laterally literally every alternate steps seem to be down and blue now.
Think me, ain't i lucky? To be booted out of heaven before it turned ugly. To evade the bitchiness, the hypocrisy, the fakeness. To avoid the revealment of true colours. To escape the muggerish attitude. To leave heaven before it turned hell.
Perhaps its the work. Perhaps it was the common tests. Perhaps after the mungle bundle of events like friendship week, cross country, talenttime and mini concerts came the sharp contrast of horrendous grades that jolted everyone like a fartish fetor. Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps?
I think its just optimism swirling in me again, churning out silly ideas to make me feel better about getting booted out of rJ. Wait, i think? Neh, I hope. I hope its just me. Its just me trying to vacuum every possible ray of beatitude and hope out of my sad case, and not rJ descending into the pits of murk and infestivity, with each individual resembling Cimmerian.
the voices in my head-
Saturday, July 13, 2002
8:46 AM
On CherRain
I disappeared from rj, with only hugs and letters from cher as souvenirs. Then, chermain disappeared to mercury upon returning from cambodia and only after the mobilisation of half the world did she emerge into reality. Nevertheless, finally met up with her yesterday after a hopeless session of bball with endless underbasket misses and spastic passes. At around 8, rainery joined us, and we headed for nydc for dinner.
Sinful orders rolled off the menu as we devoured baked rice, pizza and at least a litre of that elephaniomocha. Despite ruining their evening with sweet reminders that they're getting faaaT, cher bravely ordered a mudpie for desert which 3 of us shared, me downing the whipped cream of course. When the bill came, i forked out 50 bucks, with cher and rain shoving me 20 dollars each. Explaining hysterically that i hadn't just eaten just 10 bucks worth of food, they retorted that they hadn't eaten that little either. The table suffered much thrusting of wades of notes, but the waitress came to our rescue soonafter, declaring that we had eaten more than 70 bucks of food...! Geez, it was both humiliating and hilarious to see that classic bewilderment expression on the God-Blessed waitress.
Through the evening, we talked, gossiped, laughed and shared about anything and everything. True friends stay by my side, through thick and thin, walking in when the world walks out. Come what may, lets stay this way. Good luck cher, for the days ahead...
the voices in my head-
Thursday, July 11, 2002
5:30 AM
Bad Company
I went with a bad company to catch bad company at J8 today. Consisting of the Veiny Bloody, Inert, Rock and myself, it was an interesting clique of us who, after half an hour of "Can we go to this instead..." and "Can we do this instead...", decided upon the movie. Catching disheng and his self rated 10/10 cLare in action, (eh.. they were eating), we soon left them to their own privacies before we exploded in brightness.
Kelvin was seated furthest from me, and i was placed between The Rock and Inert. To my surprise, Inert fell asleep halfway during the show despite bad company being one of the better movies i've seen these days. The Rock had a steadfast arousal when the movie scene turned erotic, consequently agreeing with me that it was a good show after all as we were exiting the cinema.
As i headed for home with Inert at approximately 6pm, i realised that it was the first time i had caught a show with the class guys. Despite the absence of usual cinema entertainment like popcorn throwing, futile strips, roof bangling catcalls or the company of an angel, it was a rewarding experience after all, and i had got to know better, these 3 unique individuals whom i would spend the rest of my JC life with.
the voices in my head-
Monday, July 08, 2002
8:29 AM
On 69
No, yongfeng, this ain't a running commentary on Jenna Jameson's newest clip, but my class which bears the digits of the infamous position.
I was so tired yesterday from 3 successive days of basketball that i just lazed on my bed and refused to come online. Then, oLivia messaged me, telling me she'd send me a letter as soon as possible, and chermain sent a really cute message too. Think i, messages and calls still come from rJ people. Think further i, i'm still more attached to my rJ clique, with funky chalets and world cup matches watched together.
I wondered why, and i wondered if i would or could ever bind with my present class. Yes, they are splendidly nice people, but one way or another, its as though the class ain't a first level clique of friends for each and every one of us. Lets see, duckie and co. had known each other for 4 yrs, and 6 yrs running classmates. Xiaoyuan and Fangxi are caught with dances, where their passion and talent lies untapped. The female bballers in our class have their major clique in their bballing pals, while those attached in our class are lost somewhere over the rainbow. Point is, 69 has bunches of people which have their outside cliques. Contrary to hearsay from 1st 3 months experiences, the class is widely diversified. It is a hair-raising experience to organise a class outing, and a voice-raising experience trying to make people partake in a certain activity. No, fred, its never a [that-part]-raising experience in any case.
I had a late-night conversation with fangxi once about trying to bunch up the class together and as she puts it, bring it back to the old days. When i crept back beneath my blankets, i tried to visualise how would that be possible. What had bonded my rJ 1s06D class together that was lacking in s69? Lets see.. people from both classes are nice. i dun hate anyone, no, this is not just a polite statement uploaded on my blog for all of you people to see but it comes deep from my heart, and to a certain extent, there is a duplicte of people on both sides. Short cute cherie to the short cute sipei, violent though nice widya to the violent though nice chengpinG, excitable melanie to the enthusiastic yinbinG....
Nevertheless, i think weird me has a strange affinity with females. Similarly in rJ, my close pals have been mel cherie tienfun olivia joshua andrew. Nono, joshua and andrew ain't females, but it just seems easier to confide in the opposite sex. Now at hcJc, history repeats itself. Maybe its just coincidence that in both classes, it is the girls who are more outgoing, and since sociable peeps clique better with me, that had to happen. No, chris, i did not handpick my friends, and hence, flirtatious suits me not.
Just as guys come with 2 heads, and gals come with 2 lips, likes come with dislikes. The major dislike of 1s06D's the great line between the muggers and non. Oh well, its not as bad as my all-time dislike for 69. My present class has an undying addiction for gossip, from pairing people up to recollecting embarrassing incidents. Yes its funny, sometimes hilarious enough to risk a tear in the neck muscle, but at times, it might have gone too far. Poor engkeat has been muddled up so badly he can't talk properly anymore in front of cP while silly frederick has been teased to his wits end his trademark grRrrR has been deflated.
Nevertheless, i think the underlying problem about the class is the hypocrisy, the wavering character beneath the fixed smile. 1st day i came to school, people were already warning me about cCu. But! the behaviour of certain individuals in front of him was unnervingly nice, contrary to the outrageous taunt behind his back. This is made worse by the fact that these individuals are nice people, and i can't bring myself to hate them... Alas, this not only applies to cCu, but to some others too, and it was blood-freezing to imagine if one day i were to bug the class bench, and lo and behold, finding out that i were a victim of such hypocrisy too.
Touchwood, oak, teak, mahagurny, spruce, whatever. But if that day were to really strike me like a bolt from nothingness, i shall seek refuge in those i truly love and never emerge again.
the voices in my head-
Saturday, July 06, 2002
6:33 AM
Wrists and Risks
Much to the defiance of my wrist's screaming pleas for attention, I played basketball today. again. The team titans which i play for was utterly psyched up today, we managed to draw level with some of the Bukit Timah CSC members, and contrary to usual feeble attempts, air reverses and 45 degreed fadeaways were managed by some of us this afternoon.
Adrenaline rushed through my veins in the 3rd game and i performed a sideboard fingerroll, but much to my felicitous delight, my hamstring pulled an astonishing stunt and more than half my hand was over the rim. Quickly chancing a full dunk, i flipped my hand 180 degrees and set the net on fire. The seconds which bound myself in midair lengthened and every single detail was committed to my memory. I glanced around and saw jaws detached from each of my team member's lower skull, with raised eyebrows disappearing into foreheads. A grin spread from ear to ear, when gravity finally seemed to function once more...
My left leg touched ground zero first. The impact was shattering as i felt my knee joint exclaim the familiar click sound. My right leg followed soon after, but it went into contact with my silly team member's leg. Before i had the chance to glace downwards to adjust my positioning, my right leg bent at an awkward angle, and my entire body banked towards the right. This time, the seconds which bound myself in the unbalanced position vanished and no details could be recalled. All i knew was i kissed the floor before i could shout ouch.
So much for adrenaline rushing through my veins. At that instant, it seemed like a thousand pins were zigzagging their way through my vessels. The excruciating pain which enveloped my right wrist was too much to bear, and i could not move my arm at all. It was the combination of numbs, cramps, bruises, cuts, gashes, castrations and decapitations, and for a fleeting moment, i wondered if i could ever play basketball again. My friends helped me to the side, and it took me a moment to realise that the steaming liquid on my face was more than perspiration.
i picked myself up, trod on the court unsteadily and stumbled slightly. Dragging my tonne-heavy legs to the toilet, it felt like an immensely long walk, the toilet entrace didn't seem to be getting any nearer at all, and i could feel gazillion pain entozoons trying to snap my wrist ligaments. My mind rapidly flashed every happy memory i could recollect to keep myself preoccupied from the pain. After what seemed like an eternity, i finally found myself in front of the toilet mirror. My flustered face was flooded by then, and i hastily twisted the tap, inducing a vigorous flow of water. After splashing my face with the refreshing water for a minute or so, the realisation hit me that i twisted the tap with my right hand. Yes, my injured right hand.
The pathos of the situation was somewhat hilarious. Somehow, i believed that a miracle recovery had struck my wrist, but the tingling sensation seemed to exclaim the opposite. I desparately wanted to twist it a little, but the risk of inviting those pain entozoons to launch a full scale invasion on my ligaments seemed too great. I gazed myself in the mirror, ahaz! here's the word for it: JIN 4 TUI 4 LIANG 3 NAN 2. Nevertheless, my curiosity surpassed the lack of my courage and i rotated my silly wrist. My suspicions were confirmed, it had recovered.
I broke into a hearty cackle before rushing out to break the good news to my teammates. Till now, i wonder how could that have been possible. Two lefts making a right? Two injuries making an inexpressible recovery? Or did it all lie in my mind, where happy thoughts swiped the impairment of my wrist and resurrected the limb?
the voices in my head-
Tuesday, July 02, 2002
7:07 AM
On aWak3n|nGs
All that depression for nothing. Silence could never consume me. For technology has developed a mechanism far more omnipotent than light sabres, it being a discman. The day started with a leap when that [insert-vulgarity] jennifer tan did not turn up to supervise my suspension. Hence, i was free to plug my ears and sleep peacefully in the HODfilling room without occasional disturbances. Conveniently forgetting that my handphone was still in her posession, she so neatly deprived me of my phone for another day since she had not returned my phone the previous day, and did not turn up today. And like that butthead i was, i did not borrow gabriel's extra phone and was unable to smerse anyone for the day.
Nevertheless, i self-declared several lunch breaks and wandered around the school compound today. It was a beautiful day, not the wet sloshy weather, but not the scorching bright sort either. I paid a visit to the student council room, and to my wonderous surprise, discovered my long-lost pencil case. Unzipping it, i expectantly found my $10 note missing (i keep this spare note in my pencil case for emergency purposes), but the last letters from my rjc classmates were still intact. These included cherie and mel's green leaflet, olivia's artistic letter, junlin's penguiny note and of course pei's heaven mail. The aura of dementoriness left me as i realised that we had not drifted even though i had left rjc for more than a term. Periodic letters still came, daily sms still fill my inbox, and occasional outings have bonded us even stronger than ever.
I returned to my confinement cell after my 4th lunch, and staring around, peter, mory, joseph, jaq and jack gazed back at me blankly. Shutting my physics file and unplugging my ears, i snapped up the black marker from my newly-found old pencil case and started the final duel. After 15 minutes of intensive bloodpounding monomachy, i triumphed as aWak3n|nGs filled my cell. There are 5 aWak3n|nGs all round, one beneath the table i sit, one on the fire extinguisher, one beneath the air-con filter, one on the floor, and lastly, one on the switch. Five aWak3n|nGs for the 5 cabinets that haunted me.
Peter, mory, joseph, jaq and jack faded as aWak3n|nG triumph. Silence shrivelled as the CDs hummed. I lived once more.
5 o'clock approached, and as i exited the general office and looked back, i realised that it was less of an abomination than an adventure.
the voices in my head-
Monday, July 01, 2002
8:27 AM
Morte Mortal
Depression struck. The 11 hours confinement in the HODfilling room smacked me in the face the icy feeling of misery, sadness and fury welled up into one. My phone was taken away from me early in the morning, and all possible earthly contact with anyone was deemed impossible.
11 hours. 39600 seconds. I did that mentally during my confinement. Without a calculator. I was on my way to counting the milliseconds and split milliseconds when my god-blessed lunch break arrived. Lunch today was one of the worst lunches in my life. I saw none of my classmates, only a few of my friends bundled here and there. Eating with zhiyang and chengyi and co., i caught up with the old crowd but was forced to leave after a mere 40 minutes. As i trudged back alone, i realised how lucky i was. To have friends. To have people to confide in. To have people to go out with.
To have? think I. To had, i meant. I was walking alone, ain't i? Then it all came to realisation i was alone.
1:25. 35th second. I stepped into my confinement once more. As i gazed around me, there were 4 walls, and 5 cabinets. I gave the cabinets names. They were peter, mory, joseph, jaq and jack. I knew none of these characters. They just streamed into my mind, but as jack hit me, i recalled the times during the 1st 3 months when cherie and melanie gave me this nickname. The same typical introduction happened between me and them.
"Hi... you are?"
"Heyz, i'm waikit"
"Huh?"
"Waikit"
"Orh.. WaiKeat!"
"Nono.. waikit!"
and then they just called me jack for simplicity sake. It was dominic at first, but 1 syllabic names sounded more hip.
These thoughts swirled in my mind. It seemed so distant, yet it was only months ago. I thought my depressing thoughts once more. Where i would be if i hadn't been posted to hcjc. If i had stayed on at rj. If i came to hcjc in the 1st place. Would i still be the same person as i am now? The "popular poplarity freak" as someone calls me, would it be me? Or would i remain the notorious Lai and Lai co. director of eegofreakz? Fightings. Gambling. CDs. Relationships. Basketball. Friends. Where would they be in my life?
But as all such thoughts come to an end, i finally pulled myself to think not of the past, but the future. Three months ago, i would never imagine myself fitting into this khaki attire, nor would i believe myself experiencing such lonliness. Three months ago, i had never walked corridors alone, nor passed a day without a letter. Now, this immense buildup of solitude churns up the worst possibilities of my life, as i conceive images of myself in 3 months time. Would my life resemble a parabolic curve, this being the minimal point. Or would it plunge. Only time can tell where my road leads, to expulsion? retainment? scholarships? S papers?
4:15. 16th second. The silence was deafening. I tried to cup my ears to block out the silence, but it was like cupping water in hands. It worked for a moment, before the silence returned, stronger than ever. Think i, is my moment of death going to resemble this? Would I die alone? Would people still love me? Or as time progress, would only peter, mory, joseph, jaq and jack remain. My soul was slowly sucked out by the dementor's kiss, as it was replaced by an amorphous mass of black nothingness.
I hummed. Any tune. To filter the killing blare of silence. "Power of the dream" escaped my vocal cords before i could stop it, and i hastily switched. I can't sing that song. I won't. "Friends are friends forever" struck my mind next, but I could not sing it either. I gave up. Silence consumed me.
5:10. 1st second. I stood up. Exited my confinement. Apparently, that [insert-vulgarity] bitch had left the school compound already, and my handphone was still with her. I hate it when i know i have missed calls and unanswered messages. I hate it when there's a possibility people would think me to be a haughty snob. Truth is, aphony struck me, together with depression, in addition to anger. Something in me died today. I wrenched open my heart to uncover its carcass, but it was dissipated as soon as it heaved its last breath. Apparently, silence had wormed itself into me, killing something, devouring it.
I had loved it. It died. Silence ate it. I hate silence.
Tomorrow, i shall meet silence again. For the last time. I will give it a name. And i swear upon the angel i love, my sword would drive inches into silence that i hate. And i shall triumph. And live again.
May God Bless Me.
the voices in my head-
i love my girl. a love so beautiful, symmetrical, tangible
God loves me. a love so great, unconditional, real.
my life in a nutshell. working towards loves of sorts. beautiful, symmetrical, tangible, great, unconditional and real.
a page, deliberately left blank.
Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking.
It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
I Corinthians 13:4-8
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