And then I felt sad because I realized that once people are broken in certain ways, they can’t ever be fixed, and this is something nobody ever tells you when you are young and it never fails to surprise you as you grow older as you see the people in your life break one by one. You wonder when your turn is going to be, or if it’s already happened.

Douglas Coupland, Life After God

Germany.

Where do I begin?

Germany. Was. Mind-boggling.

So much happened that I almost feel as though any effort made by me to capture the unbearable loveliness of the entire experience might come across as lackadaisical or half-hearted for I simply cannot bear the thought of disenchanting my little foray into Germany culture with horribly plain, tangible words. How ironic it is that one of the few available mediums through which humans can channel our thoughts and emotions (writing) feels like a ball and shackle right now (how heavy and cumbersome it feels).

I think perhaps, I'll do this some other time.

Envy.

I've always admired people with an innate ability to capture thoughts and feelings with such precision that a measly allowance of two - or three - sentences is enough to suffice, and even dignify, the complexity which duly accompanies a disarray of human emotion.

If only I was able to do the same with the intricacies of human thought, then perhaps I would write here more often.

Sometimes I feel my heart will overflow

You.

You. I think I'm still in love with who I wish you were.

You. I don't know what we are anymore.

You. You're too good for me. I'm sorry I keep pushing you away.

You. I hate how things went so wrong; the could've-beens are killing me.


And you. I miss you and I wish you were here.

















But it's getting easier to breathe everyday

I miss you.

The damp smell of wet cloth pervades my senses and I'm suddenly conscious of our proximity. It's uncomfortable and reassuring all at the same time; torn between moving away and easing closer, I shift ever so slightly. You notice it too.

The air's saturated with an inexplicable sense of confusion and excitement as we delve further into stories, people, thoughts, feelings. All around us, couples. What are we?

Just like junkies - fully conscious that nothing can come out of this yet succumbing further to our addictions - we persist in our unhealthy explorations, driven by the pathological need that governs all human beings. And in that moment, I feel like nothing can touch us. We're infinite.

'It's midnight.'

And I'm left standing, the same Cinderella in my tattered rags but all the richer on the inside, as you disappear into the night.

And you?
You have made all the difference.

It's been a while.

I was all ready to start on my biology tutorial on photosynthesis but fate intervened - as usual - and I was engulfed with this sudden need to blog about my life over the last few months. The thought of not having any concrete memories penned down in ink (well technically, 'cyber ink') felt too uncomfortable to bear, almost as if it would be wrong not to do so. So here I am, with an abundance of half-conceived and pressing thoughts but severely lacking in the abilities to do them any justice. But I'll try my best.

'How's JC?' Most people ask.

Well, JC has been an experience to say the least. It's exciting, confusing, exasperating, tiring, stressful, interesting and challenging all the same time. And as with most experiences, JC isn't a black-or-white affair, instead it falls subtly into those muted tones of grey in-betweens. There have been times where I love it, and times when the notion of leaving Singapore and never coming back seems uncharacteristically appealing. Hey, the grass always seems greener on the other side right? But to say that JC's a monster that chews you up and spits you back out as an academic-crazed slave to an undesirable social culture, borne out of the inherent need to be popular, would be a gross exaggeration as well. In fact, if anything, JC hasn't robbed me of my ability to think freely, it's accentuated what's important to me and forced me to re-evaluate what I value most in life.

I've realised through JC that I can't do half-hearted friendships, just like how you can't love someone 'halfway'; frankly, it's tiring and the whole thought of it makes me feel oddly uncomfortable. Every friend holds the key to a room of their own in my heart; a little bit of space devoted to them, no matter how long we haven't spoken or 'hung out', it remains. And even if it's been months, any time they need to or want to, they're always welcome to use that key and visit that room again. These are the people that I will always have love for, no matter the circumstance, these people will always have a place in my heart, of that I'm quite certain. But when it comes to 'semi-friends', 'maybe-friends', 'sometimes-friends', I'm confused. Do you let them in all the way? But the thought of them ever leaving reeks of pain and hurt, because once they do, they take the keys with them and although they've left, their room remains. Empty. Locked. And most terrifyingly - permanent. And so I often end up keeping these people on the peripheries, not letting them in fully because I'm afraid to let my guard down to people who might leave with a piece of me. And it just doesn't feel right. It feels funny and fake and weird and disconcerting and all the awkward emotions that you can possibly summon. So yes, I guess that half-hearted friendships built on superficial interactions aren't really my thing, but at the same time it's really a balancing act between keeping your heart open to new possibilities while trying to prevent it from hurt at the same time.. Well, I'm a really private person by nature so it's a struggle for me to stop putting up all these walls, but I'm learning to take them down slowly. Baby steps, ma cherie, baby steps.

I was going to type a long post initially, but this is taking longer than I expected and a mountain of undone homework is calling, so I guess this is all I'll post for now.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you.

I guess I'm just not ready and you deserve better.

Torn.

I've just been through the darknest of nights with dawn no where in sight. They promised; the darknest hour is always before dawn. They promised.

Standing where I am now, I see no vestige of light. It's blackness all around and a frosty iciness that chills my bones, freezes over blood, stops my heart. But the world carries on all around; hours, minutes, seconds, passing by obliviously. Uncaringly.

I feel torn. Like a part of me has withered and died.

Incoherency's taking over. All I can say is, I'm sorry and I just want to be happy again.

Busy like a bee.

Night falls and I'm walking alone, with nothing but a faint happiness that flits through me quickly, like butterflies fluttering among fields of brilliant yellow sunflowers. Touch and go, yet perpetual and ubiquitous in some odd way.

And with each day that passes, it slowly ebbs away.

Alone.

Some people talk their misery into strings of windswept secrets. Others cry; pleading for the numbness that so mercifully accompanies dried tear ducts. And some stifle the entrenched seeds of Anguish with a Niagara of work; The Falls against a seedling, it's no wonder self-denial thrives in the desolate plains of the human mind.

Me? Well, I like to be alone.

Loneliness. It's like standing amidst a sea of people and drawing a blank with each face that mistakingly crosses the boundaries of your periphery. You're convinced that delusion has eluded you but then why the blanks? And yet they continue to batter, assault even, the precarious demarcations of perception and reality. Persistence never was one to give up; a whiff of defeat, swiftly followed by the stench of bittersweet victory. Clarity was never quite this dreadful as it dragged you in, leaving a trail of nail marks clawed into the ground in its wake.

"No!" it's a cry of desperation that you make right on cue, sitting up with cold sweat dripping and bone-straight posture, deceiving the gullible that this is the mere fabrication of a nightmare. Hah. Well then Alice, take a look around you, you're still in Wonderland.

I can't say I didn't try. I guess after all this time angst is still my colour.

Zoolander.

Few things compel me to blog - extreme (and sometimes mildly inappropriate) torrents of happiness, misery coupled with misunderstood teenage angst, excitement with a dash of anticipation, unbearingly saccharine/ quixotic dramas, epiphanies, books AND the latest addition to my list... ZOOLANDER.

Hahaha. No, Seriously (Note the capitalised 'S' meant to underscore the genuine seriousness of this proclamation). I can't believe it's taken me this long to watch it considering how it's become a constant reference in pop culture, of which I'm a rather active participant; though I'd really have to credit Bec for opening my eyes to this movie of epic proportions.

A word of caution; this movie isn't for the fainthearted. So, tread cautiously.




















-BLUE STEEL- (And y'know what, there simply aren't words Derek, there just aren't.)

"Have you ever wondered if there was more to life, other than being really, really, ridiculously good looking?" - Derek Zoolander.