Sunday, June 25, 2006
{ 8:29 AM }
Home sweet home's doing me real good, for my body, mind and soul.
All friends are home, people from the UK, Canada and Oz, all pouring in for the breaks. It's wonderful. You get to see everyone and there's so much going on.
A pretty pointles post, if you ask me. I cannot wait to finish uni and start working or whatever that comes after uni..
Home sweet home's doing me real good, for my body, mind and soul.
All friends are home, people from the UK, Canada and Oz, all pouring in for the breaks. It's wonderful. You get to see everyone and there's so much going on.
A pretty pointles post, if you ask me. I cannot wait to finish uni and start working or whatever that comes after uni..
Sunday, June 18, 2006
{ 5:00 AM }
Dear daddy,
You have worked so hard to keep this family together, to put a roof over our heads and to give us a good life. You work all day and all night to put three meals on the table, to take us on holidays and to provide us with luxuries, so that we would never feel inferior to our friends and that we would never be envious of them.
You never complained and kept it all inside. You'd let me have the first pick and I'd take the best, leaving you with the rest. Ever since I was young, you'd let me have my freedom, my choice of breakfast, my choice of holidays.
You took in all my nonsense, my obnoxious behaviour, my late nights home, my sky rocketing phone bills. I misunderstood your anger, your violence when I was younger. I built a wall between us, but you have worked between your hectic schedule and meetings to tear down that barrier. And although demolition is not complete, we're half way there.
For all my disappointments, and I know that there were many of them, I'm sorry. I never did them intentionally to hurt anyone. I guess it was part of the process of growing up. I apologise for the disappointment that will be coming. It'll hurt especially more this time because of your change.
But even though we had a rough time getting to where we are now, I could not have asked for more. Happy Father's Day.
I love you pa.
Love, michelle
Now, if only I had the guts to say all this.
Dear daddy,
You have worked so hard to keep this family together, to put a roof over our heads and to give us a good life. You work all day and all night to put three meals on the table, to take us on holidays and to provide us with luxuries, so that we would never feel inferior to our friends and that we would never be envious of them.
You never complained and kept it all inside. You'd let me have the first pick and I'd take the best, leaving you with the rest. Ever since I was young, you'd let me have my freedom, my choice of breakfast, my choice of holidays.
You took in all my nonsense, my obnoxious behaviour, my late nights home, my sky rocketing phone bills. I misunderstood your anger, your violence when I was younger. I built a wall between us, but you have worked between your hectic schedule and meetings to tear down that barrier. And although demolition is not complete, we're half way there.
For all my disappointments, and I know that there were many of them, I'm sorry. I never did them intentionally to hurt anyone. I guess it was part of the process of growing up. I apologise for the disappointment that will be coming. It'll hurt especially more this time because of your change.
But even though we had a rough time getting to where we are now, I could not have asked for more. Happy Father's Day.
I love you pa.
Love, michelle
Now, if only I had the guts to say all this.
Friday, June 16, 2006
{ 8:31 AM }
I'm seriously considering getting pricked, yet again. It hurts like no other but it's oh so satisfying. You know how some people can find (stupid) comfort in slashing their wrists or cutting themselves, it's somewhere along that line but in a much healtheir way. I love myself too much to slash myself.
I love tattoos; for the art, the intricity, the work, the process and the deeper meaning behind it all.
It's a whole different experience. I have no idea what's stopping me from doing it. Oh screw shytes I'll probably just get one, soon. And you know what I'll get....
I'm seriously considering getting pricked, yet again. It hurts like no other but it's oh so satisfying. You know how some people can find (stupid) comfort in slashing their wrists or cutting themselves, it's somewhere along that line but in a much healtheir way. I love myself too much to slash myself.
I love tattoos; for the art, the intricity, the work, the process and the deeper meaning behind it all.
It's a whole different experience. I have no idea what's stopping me from doing it. Oh screw shytes I'll probably just get one, soon. And you know what I'll get....
And if i have a baby, you'll bet your bottom that I'll have his/her name engraved for good on me.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
{ 12:31 AM }
This morning I woke up with a jolt, an indescribable feeling overcame me. You know the feeling you get when you've forgotten to do something but you just can't quite put your finger on what exactly you've forgotten to do, except for the fact that I didn't forget to do anything.
It was a sinking feeling, a dull feeling, as if someone you loved just passed away. It was a bad feeling. Maybe it was the stress that was overhauling me, but ironically I don't feel an inch of stress even if the work hours I've been adding into my days may seem to contradict otherwise.
I threw the covers aside, sat straight up, crossed legged in bed and closed my eyes for 10 minutes or so. I did my own little version of meditating, desperately trying to calm my nerves and rid that horrible feeling that was drilling in the back of my head, and prayed. The first time in a long time.
I asked for peace, calamity and protection for all the people I loved. I opened my eyes, looked around and felt somewhat relieved.
It's 3:40 pm. I still don't know what the feeling is, but in that 10minutes of meditation I found my Eden and it was perhaps that time of focus that i channeled all my enegery to peservere and move on with my long schedule today.
I will try it again tomorrow morning.
This morning I woke up with a jolt, an indescribable feeling overcame me. You know the feeling you get when you've forgotten to do something but you just can't quite put your finger on what exactly you've forgotten to do, except for the fact that I didn't forget to do anything.
It was a sinking feeling, a dull feeling, as if someone you loved just passed away. It was a bad feeling. Maybe it was the stress that was overhauling me, but ironically I don't feel an inch of stress even if the work hours I've been adding into my days may seem to contradict otherwise.
I threw the covers aside, sat straight up, crossed legged in bed and closed my eyes for 10 minutes or so. I did my own little version of meditating, desperately trying to calm my nerves and rid that horrible feeling that was drilling in the back of my head, and prayed. The first time in a long time.
I asked for peace, calamity and protection for all the people I loved. I opened my eyes, looked around and felt somewhat relieved.
It's 3:40 pm. I still don't know what the feeling is, but in that 10minutes of meditation I found my Eden and it was perhaps that time of focus that i channeled all my enegery to peservere and move on with my long schedule today.
I will try it again tomorrow morning.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
{ 10:03 PM }
I've been thinking a lot about what I should be posting about. I hate it when my thoughts get blocked, like a plug in the basin sink.
I went through my friendster list of "friends" last night. The question of what it takes to be my friend, I've concluded a long time ago but certain things, from old pictures to pool parties to world cup season, just make you probe deeper the meaning of what a friend really is and who my friends are.
There was a period of time where I knew more people than skittles in a bag. I would say that everyone wanted to be my 'friend' but it just sounds so arrogant and such an airhead but it's somewhere along that borders. Maybe it was because of my relations with other people or maybe it was because I was genuinely a nice person. The latter I hoped.
I miss our pool parties. I miss out The RBRC series. I miss owning the back of the class. I miss our trials and tribulations in love and war. I miss our lame-joke-at-twelv nights. I miss our sleepovers. I miss (and will) our basketball sessions. I miss our World Cup Chart behind class. I miss watching the England v Brazil match WC'02. I miss our Coffee Bean nights. I miss our turntable nights. I miss our ice creams dates. I miss the days.
I am no longer in search of fame or popularity, not that I really ever was. The girls dying to be beautiful to attract the male sex, ladies beware for your name, your reputation will be scratched off sooner than you know. The boys, smoking their fags walking around with an air of toughness, beware you will be brought down by those above you even before you blink. I look at them, smile and wonder if they'll ever have that wake up call I had.
Dear friend,
Thank you for all the times you have had my back, for all the times you never backstabbed me, for all the times you picked me up when I fell, for all the times you stood up for me, for the way you make me feel important and loved, for the times we laughed so hard till we were out of breath. Thank you for encouragement, for love, for harshness, for wake up calls. I love you all more than anything because you have been such a big part of me.
Post high school, we've talked and seen less of each other but forget not that because of the impact you've made in me and my life your name will be engraved in the halls of remembrance, my halls. I trust that when we see each other again, it will be just like old times. Better.
Love, your friend.
Everyone else whose picture I do no have. You know I love you too. Even you who think you might not matter, you do.
I've been thinking a lot about what I should be posting about. I hate it when my thoughts get blocked, like a plug in the basin sink.
I went through my friendster list of "friends" last night. The question of what it takes to be my friend, I've concluded a long time ago but certain things, from old pictures to pool parties to world cup season, just make you probe deeper the meaning of what a friend really is and who my friends are.
There was a period of time where I knew more people than skittles in a bag. I would say that everyone wanted to be my 'friend' but it just sounds so arrogant and such an airhead but it's somewhere along that borders. Maybe it was because of my relations with other people or maybe it was because I was genuinely a nice person. The latter I hoped.
It was like authority. I walked with an air, my nose angled. I thought I was better than everyone else. I was authority.
Thoughts of a teen in search of fame, recognition and popularity, I'd say.
That was then. This is now. I've grown up met real friends. People who have stuck by my side when all crumbled, who have made me feel comfortable being me, who in my mind, made me feel like I needed no more friends than what they already are. Everyday I miss them.
I miss our pool parties. I miss out The RBRC series. I miss owning the back of the class. I miss our trials and tribulations in love and war. I miss our lame-joke-at-twelv nights. I miss our sleepovers. I miss (and will) our basketball sessions. I miss our World Cup Chart behind class. I miss watching the England v Brazil match WC'02. I miss our Coffee Bean nights. I miss our turntable nights. I miss our ice creams dates. I miss the days.
I am no longer in search of fame or popularity, not that I really ever was. The girls dying to be beautiful to attract the male sex, ladies beware for your name, your reputation will be scratched off sooner than you know. The boys, smoking their fags walking around with an air of toughness, beware you will be brought down by those above you even before you blink. I look at them, smile and wonder if they'll ever have that wake up call I had.
Dear friend,
Thank you for all the times you have had my back, for all the times you never backstabbed me, for all the times you picked me up when I fell, for all the times you stood up for me, for the way you make me feel important and loved, for the times we laughed so hard till we were out of breath. Thank you for encouragement, for love, for harshness, for wake up calls. I love you all more than anything because you have been such a big part of me.
Post high school, we've talked and seen less of each other but forget not that because of the impact you've made in me and my life your name will be engraved in the halls of remembrance, my halls. I trust that when we see each other again, it will be just like old times. Better.
Love, your friend.
Everyone else whose picture I do no have. You know I love you too. Even you who think you might not matter, you do.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
{ 5:19 AM }
No shyte. My mock exam is in five weeks, which in normal cirsumstances might seem like a long way to go, but when you have two assesed assignments due in July, tutorials to finish off every other week, notes to complete, cases to look for and lectures to prepare for everyday, five weeks is really too short. Too short is an understatement.
Tuesday was the start of my marathon-stay-in-the-library-as-long-as-you-can day. Been there 7 hours at max. Surprisingly it isn't at all tiring. I wonder if it's my motivation that's kicked in or just the ambience in the library; the white washed walls and air con blasting right in your face. Hui Ying mentioned that locking yourself up in the library isn't as comfortable as home sweet home but that proves to be a good thing. You can't go online (well you can but it's horrible slow), you can't sleep comfortably, you can't watch korean/taiwanese/english/hong kong/japanese drama series', you can't watch astro or be tempted to go to the kitchen and constantly be on a 'short 5 minute break' In other words, you have no choice but to study.
I personally think it's very true.
Speaking of motivation.
It's amazing what we are capable of doing once we've been pushed to the extreme limit or when our lives or that of the people we love are put at stake. I'm surprised at the fact that I have no problems 'calling on' my motivation at this crucial point in time when I specifically remember having problems finding the right spot, the right pen, the right position, thr right facing direction, the right attire, the right chair etc to study. All of them excuses for laziness and procrastination, obviously.
Is it what's at stake that drives us forward; what is up to be lost, or to be gained for that matter. Do we have control over that that motivates us or does 'it' appear as and when 'it' pleases?
The reason I'm mentioning this is because if everyone on earth were driven by their motivation, there would be less whiners, less sore losers and less complainers. It's what we need to move forward, is it not? Then why are we so reluctant to dig deeper and push ourselves instead of choosing to take a short 'nap' thats lasts 3 hours, maybe more, or allow ourselves to say that 'there will be plenty of time tomorrow' or invest in short term fun foregoing the long term benefit that we're aiming for.
They say that the devil's fruit of temptation looks so ripe and delicious but take a bitter toll on those who choose to let the easier way get the best of them.
Let's hope that when I lose my motivation that I will re-read this post to re gain my drive.
As for now, the library will be my new home till I go back for my Reading Week. 15 days and counting.
I'm screwing the Genting post. It's taking too long. The hype of posting about it has died down. But it was awesome I can tell you that.
No shyte. My mock exam is in five weeks, which in normal cirsumstances might seem like a long way to go, but when you have two assesed assignments due in July, tutorials to finish off every other week, notes to complete, cases to look for and lectures to prepare for everyday, five weeks is really too short. Too short is an understatement.
Tuesday was the start of my marathon-stay-in-the-library-as-long-as-you-can day. Been there 7 hours at max. Surprisingly it isn't at all tiring. I wonder if it's my motivation that's kicked in or just the ambience in the library; the white washed walls and air con blasting right in your face. Hui Ying mentioned that locking yourself up in the library isn't as comfortable as home sweet home but that proves to be a good thing. You can't go online (well you can but it's horrible slow), you can't sleep comfortably, you can't watch korean/taiwanese/english/hong kong/japanese drama series', you can't watch astro or be tempted to go to the kitchen and constantly be on a 'short 5 minute break' In other words, you have no choice but to study.
I personally think it's very true.
Speaking of motivation.
It's amazing what we are capable of doing once we've been pushed to the extreme limit or when our lives or that of the people we love are put at stake. I'm surprised at the fact that I have no problems 'calling on' my motivation at this crucial point in time when I specifically remember having problems finding the right spot, the right pen, the right position, thr right facing direction, the right attire, the right chair etc to study. All of them excuses for laziness and procrastination, obviously.
Is it what's at stake that drives us forward; what is up to be lost, or to be gained for that matter. Do we have control over that that motivates us or does 'it' appear as and when 'it' pleases?
The reason I'm mentioning this is because if everyone on earth were driven by their motivation, there would be less whiners, less sore losers and less complainers. It's what we need to move forward, is it not? Then why are we so reluctant to dig deeper and push ourselves instead of choosing to take a short 'nap' thats lasts 3 hours, maybe more, or allow ourselves to say that 'there will be plenty of time tomorrow' or invest in short term fun foregoing the long term benefit that we're aiming for.
They say that the devil's fruit of temptation looks so ripe and delicious but take a bitter toll on those who choose to let the easier way get the best of them.
Let's hope that when I lose my motivation that I will re-read this post to re gain my drive.
As for now, the library will be my new home till I go back for my Reading Week. 15 days and counting.
I'm screwing the Genting post. It's taking too long. The hype of posting about it has died down. But it was awesome I can tell you that.
Monday, June 05, 2006
{ 12:51 AM }
It's been two weeks and now I'm back in KL. Resuming my supposedly normal life. Stress, I tell you. Mocks are a month away and the good ol' two weeks break proved in no way helpful to helping me finish up my notes. So yes the stress is kicking in... for me anyway.
Being back in my own house was great, ths first time since January. All my other trips of going back to Brunei were not to my own house *grin*. I never thought I would miss driving as much as I did, I used to think driving was a pain and being passenger was much less nerve wrecking. My sister and my cousin were of great company. I have home cooked meals, and I assure you I made full use of the food which I'm starting to regret. I had my bed of pillows all to myself and did not have to make use of my alarm clock at all. Wonderful. Really wonderful.
I lazed around, bummed around and pigged out. Pretty progressive holiday.. for a slob.
I don't live to see my sunny mornings. I wake up past 12, when the sun's shining on your tush. But I rummy everynight. I'm addicted, I seriously am. And the people I've been hanging out with just make everything better. I didn't get a chance to meet everyone I wanted to but there's always next time (like less than 3weeks more hahahaha)
Point is I'm back, need to get my studying snowball rolling. And I promise that Genting pics will be up next. I won't post at all unless its a pictorial post.
Lotsa Love.
It's been two weeks and now I'm back in KL. Resuming my supposedly normal life. Stress, I tell you. Mocks are a month away and the good ol' two weeks break proved in no way helpful to helping me finish up my notes. So yes the stress is kicking in... for me anyway.
Being back in my own house was great, ths first time since January. All my other trips of going back to Brunei were not to my own house *grin*. I never thought I would miss driving as much as I did, I used to think driving was a pain and being passenger was much less nerve wrecking. My sister and my cousin were of great company. I have home cooked meals, and I assure you I made full use of the food which I'm starting to regret. I had my bed of pillows all to myself and did not have to make use of my alarm clock at all. Wonderful. Really wonderful.
I lazed around, bummed around and pigged out. Pretty progressive holiday.. for a slob.
I don't live to see my sunny mornings. I wake up past 12, when the sun's shining on your tush. But I rummy everynight. I'm addicted, I seriously am. And the people I've been hanging out with just make everything better. I didn't get a chance to meet everyone I wanted to but there's always next time (like less than 3weeks more hahahaha)
Point is I'm back, need to get my studying snowball rolling. And I promise that Genting pics will be up next. I won't post at all unless its a pictorial post.
Lotsa Love.