life will be better in spring

HALO. I am here to water this wilting plant of mine ~

The deranged workload for these two months impressed me by showing how limitless my sanity can stretch. I have been praying so earnestly that I would go over the cliff of sanity and into the abyss of insanity. But it seems like years of military-like life under my mum has sharpened my endurance way stronger than my determination to breakdown.

Sigh. It seems like just yesterday when I was distressed over terms. Now? Promos. Why is it that time is what we want the most, yet what we use worst? Common test was a total flop. My straight Aces goal is at the other extreme end. My procrastinating nature is controlling me like a puppet, entangling the strings of my life. So, now, I am just a wretch lil soul who lost her directions. Since when did this become habitual? I mean, as if getting lost has become my daily routine. And it feels like I did it on purpose…

You know that feeling when you’re just waiting, waiting to get home into your room, close the door, fall into bed, and just let out everything that you have kept in all day? Nothing is wrong, but nothing is right either, and you’re tired, tired of everything, tired of nothing, and you just want someone to be there and tell you it’s okay, but no one’s going to be there. And you know you have to be strong for yourself because no one can fix you. But you’re tired of waiting, tired of having to be the one to fix yourself and everyone else, tired of being strong, and for once, you just want it to be easy, to be simple, to be helped, to be saved, but you know you won’t be, but you’re still hoping and you’re still wishing and you’re still staying strong and fighting with tears in your eyes. You’re fighting.

Decided to post on of my essays ~ One of the stories that I think is my best work. ^^

What is justice? In the oxford dictionary "justice" is defined as "being just: fair treatment". However, in their worlds, justice was non-existence.


She emitted a perfidious aura as she sashayed into the room. Her dress looked as if it was deliberately cut right below her buttocks, malevolent men trying their best to sneak a peek. Revolting men were hoping she was the promiscuous sort - her dress obviously showcasing that fact. His mind was in vertigo as he gazed at her sheer beauty - her figure was immaculate in every way. His eyes were transfixed on her ethereal-like face - her mirthful crescent eyes emitted an atmosphere of euphoria. As she sashayed past him, his strong frame turned frail - petrified and astounded by her overwhelming beauty.


Like how a predator observes its prey, she eyed him and watch how he stole looks at her, how he tries his best to appear inconspicuous. She bent down. The angle was perfect: his eyes would roam onto her but his focus will be on -- elsewhere. She pushed her hair back, so that he would get a better view.


"Where is it?" she stood up; her eyed still scanning the floor. "did anyone..did anyone see a wallet.." her voice trailed off. Flustered, worried, and angry: the perfect emotions to draw hua attention and melt his heart. "It’s a brown Gucci..."


"What happened?"


Finally, she lifted her head upon hearing his voice. He looked exactly like the perfect student union leader in university: a short spiky hairdo, chiseled jaw line, suntanned skin and an ensemble of branded goods - an Armani exchanges shirt paired with Levi’s jeans.


She, on the other hand, fit right into the image of the freshman he had always fantasized about in school every day.


"Forget it. Forget it!" she thrusted all her fingertips into her long wavy hair. “It is already a bad enough day. To top it off, there is not a single cent on me to get a cab home!"


Perfect. The events that followed on fell according to his plan. Or rather, her plan. He immediately seized the golden opportunity to send her back home.


Today her name was “xxxx". Before stepping out of her home today, before going out to hunt for her prey, she had already crafted a complete new image of herself: a poor lonely soul who was just ditches by her boyfriend, an orphan since young. The ideal image to fit into the story of the hero saving a damsel in distress. This was her fifth hundred and sixteenth image. The moment she saw him as she entered the pub, she can see it in his eyes, that he was the one she was looking for. The man who have the hidden Courage within him, waiting for someone or something to ignite the spark.


The moment they stepped into her empty flat, he wasted no time. The feeling was mutual; it was obvious what both of them wanted. After they had finished, there seemed to be an deadly silence, like a prelude of what was going to happen. She hesitated on which script to use. After a minute, she dropped her head on the sofa and said, "There’s something I need to tell you." and then she stared at the fruit knife in the coffee table. Today, it shall finally serve its purpose.


"Do you really think you are the predator, in this pathetic game of predation? Well, I am HIV-positive." when she saw how his facial expression changed, she knew it. She knew that after hundreds of men, this man would end it all for her. Like how a predator hunts for its prey, she plotted a strategy: a strategy to kill the beast. Within her soul, a strategy to end it all, to end her. He shall be her azrael- the angel of death-who will slay the beast.

Enmity enveloped his heart as Hades' flames surrounded his soul - how could she do this to him? A deluge of hatred-filled tears moistened the cemented floor as he clenched his fist in burning fury - fury he never thought had existed in him. His soul was cascaded in a wave of indignation as he shook in my seat - as if Lucifer himself had taken over his will. his mind was filled with malevolence - cruel ways that he could use to torture her very being.


She closed her eyes and her lips curled into a smile, a smile that depicts triumph.


His imperturbable nature was taken over by an indignation he never thought had existed in him. The Lucifer residing in him was unleashed when he saw that smile of victory on her porcelain like face. He grabbed the knife in the table and shoved it so fast towards her; it all took place in just a split second. The blade stabbed right through her chest smoothly, as if there was already a groove in them.


The blade, it came. It came towards her, finally. She did not scream, even though the pain was overwhelming. Flashbacks of her misery came charging like a red bull. The mockery she has suffered, the discrimination she has faced everywhere, simply because her mother was a prostitute and HIV-positive. Everyone dictated her life based on her background, even though she was tested HIV-negative, no one believed her. She used to break down, then she started to break others. Many men could not escape from the clutches of temptation, which eventually drove them to insanity.


"I just want to tell at least one person the truth, before the end comes..."She said, struggling with her words. "I am HIV-negative…I was never HIV-positive..I just want to spread the stigma, not the virus. I just want to spread the...fear."


What is justice? Justice is about fighting for you: just yourself. In their world, lady justice does not do her job; they do her job.

Yea, this is one of my proudest piece ever ~ storyline adapted from low kay hwa’s novel btw. ^^ love the twist ~

So much has happened over the past few months. >< 真是一言难尽啊 haha. Omg, Chinese :O influenced by him I guess. Gawd, I ought to stop conversing in Mandarin... ENGLISH SHOULD BE MY PRIORITY. Argh, Fuck GP. I mean I am pretty much in love with English. But GP is extinguishing my passion for English -.- I abhor GP. When an enjoyment become a burden.. Exams are unnecessary, waste of our precious time; wreck both the physical and emotional environment and absolutely an understatement of our capability. If one manages to score well in exams, it just shows that he good in the subject. ONLY. It doesn’t show anything else of relation to our life. Someone who scores perfectly well in exams may not even comprehend the simplest logic of life. Exams stifle our intelligence. It fulfills the opposite of its supposed purpose.

Ok, done ranting. Back to REALITY. Nothing I said above can revert the situation I am stuck in now. So promos is just a couple of days away. And, I have not started my revision yet. I have no hell idea what I was doing this September hols. I felt bored, and guilty. Yet the voice in me is screaming: I need a breather!!! The irony ~ oh wells; the anxiety in me is inexpressible thru words. All I know is that for every single second, I am suffocating. Maybe I should get an inhaler, literally.

I really don’t know who to turn to. Everyone’s leading their own lives and it’s just so difficult and awkward for me to interrupt them with redundant emotional shit.

Tonight, he has his convocation, filming or whatever busy stuff. I don’t know how to tell him that I am in pain. That I am breaking to pieces all over again.

She, too, is breaking into pieces. I should be picking up the pieces with her, and not adding on to her burden.

So many others loved ones, but that’s the point. I can’t bear to draw them into my painful world. What’s the point? All they can do is to throw words of comfort and leave me hanging there. or even worst, my story might spoil their perfectly fine day. They might have finally got thru one day without feeling bad and talking to me will dampen their spirits. There’s just so much I have to take in consideration when I want to find someone to talk to. And, in the end, I end up telling no one and cry to myself in late nights.

I don't want to feel ugly anymore. I don't want to wake up in the morning and look in the mirror just to find another revolting reflection. I don't want to change seven times because I look unattractive in half my clothes. I don't want to worry about if I ran out of makeup because if I didn't wear any I'd look disgusting. I don't want to constanty feel the need to look in a mirror, not out of vain, but to make sure I'm at least decent looking and not ugly like I know I really am. I don't want to go into Facebook look through pictures of his ex/girl whom he liked before, and go thinking that how can he even fall for me? And wish that I couldbe as attractive as them. I don't want to question if I should eat that day or not because it might miraculously help me drop 1 kg? I want to be beautiful. I want to be naturally attractive and have a gorgeous body. I want to wake up and feel confident that I'm pretty. I hate having this body/looks, but more than anything, I loathe and abhor having this low self esteem. -adapted from tumblr.

Dear brain, can you please give me and yourself a break? Stop allowing those thoughts to run wild into the wrong direction. Stop speculating. Stop asking. Stop blaming. Stop thinking about EVERYTHING. ‘Cuz you are breaking my heart again. Ripping in into parts again. And though it is called heartbreak, it feels like every part of my body is in pain.