for knowing that boyfriends come and go,
but your girlfriends will always be there.

For letting her have the skirt, even though you spotted it first. For having a million toiletries and always needing more. For always relishing a juicy piece of news. For including chocolate in your weight-loss plans. For being nice to her boyfriend, even though he's not good enough for her.


typical? stereotypical? accurate? muses.

Das Keyboard - UberGeeks Only

wow. a keyboard that has totally blank keys. supposed to make you type faster. and different keys have different resistance. hm. crazy idea.

some words i found on my hp, doubtless copied down from somewhere. unable to find the souce though.

"What does the world know of grief but spadesful of sand little troughs dug to hold casks of mahogany."

"What plays across my face is not me, but rather the extension of myself i use to reach to the world with."

highly intriguing different viewpoint on the NKF-govt link. doesn't sound entirely true. but food for thought. from the latest blog addition.

http://noconceptofliberty.blogspot.com/2005/07/misplaced-moral-high-ground.html

i had my lunch. i stared at the porridge. the gloopy mess of partially-disintegrated rice grains. and it occured to me of the blasted mess of amylose and amylopectin. i was profoundly irritated at the staple food that was rice that was starch that was carbohydrate. and why can't i just see it as such, why do i have to see it as amylose and amylopectin. and that the stupid rice grains broke up on heating and releases the damn amylopectin which disperses to give you this darn gloopy mess and soaks up all the water. and which is now cooling slowly and giving up and condensing together and releasing the trapped water and making my porridge more and more watery.

but that's okay. it would be far worse to think about eating meat or vegetables. all the crushed phloem, xylem, blood vessels, cell layers. even if you're eating some distorted denatured version of it. ingestion of an insanely complex structure of proteins and carbs and oils, and now the process of enzymic reduction seems as crude and barbaric as bombing Afghanistan.

alright i shall shut off my brain.

the hair-cutter asked me if im losing hair. he says the front part seems less dense than the back.

gawd.

-
on hindsight, when collecting payment, he asked me whether i'm a secondary sch student. so that part's not too bad.

a silent detached gaze, staring through the thick sludge that is air, wallowing through the slippery oil that is time, suffering through the endless pain that is life. help. what is wrong with suicide. what rhetoric. i know all the arguments for and against, i think. so what. what does that change. the conflict, the pain, the frustration, the impossibility of communication, the many faces of war. war, violence, conflict, death, and more incoherent ramblings of a troubled mind. the time draws near, no, no it does not, not yet.

shattered dreams and broken shards
what says thou of a shattered life
the sparkling glass, so real, so sharp
the impossible pain, so real, again and again

we all wish for a different life
a different path in the waters of Time
yet how does it never seem right
never, never, never.

what does it take? before it will change. before they stop hounding me. before they let it go. before they CEASE TO CARE. the pain that is the care which hurts, the concern ill-advised, the care i do not want, that i do not care for, that is counter productive, that i hate. i wish to run, and run and run and run. away. but away from who, away from where. what if, what if the problem lies in me, and can never be run away from. but i would have to try to find out.

"ALL:
Double, double toile and trouble;
fire burn and cauldron bubble"

argh.

why do you pick up the pieces
the glittering shards
so carelessly strewn they are
like some cruel sadist blinding me
with the fragmented reality of life.

why do you pick up the pieces?
do they not cut? does it not hurt?
what will you do with them? now
the work of our lives are destroyed.
so cruelly and carelessly destroyed.

does not the ringing of the blow still echo?
in your ears, in your bones, in your heart.
it entrances me and shocks me, and stuns me into inaction.
unbelievably, my crystal beams are gone,
again.

i would sit there, emotionless?
watching the glimmers, watching you
pick up your pieces, but why.
if. if i left it be, would glass
slowly melt like the liquid which it is.

would the winter turn to spring

to wake up in the middle of the night
Waking to the silent darkness
confronting the silence and loneliness
which you find yourself in
wondering if Life has passed you by.
was it a sweet dream or a nightmare
was it a dream of the Past, or
a fortelling of the future
what even was the dream about?

to wake up in the bright of day
Waking to the bustling sounds
and the immediacy of your next action
Life doesn't stop, ever.
But you wonder where you are now
was it too a sweet dream or a nightmare
have your dreams all disappeared in the wakening of the eye
or are they still lurking beneath the layers


as with the previous, both were written In Reply, with inspiration from a source unnamed. this has been abandoned. now that Life itself has shattered, i cannot continue this work further, nor fix it. let it be.

I once saw a girl on a path
on a dreadful winter morn'
trudging through the barren wastes
leaving footsteps in the snow
The naked branches of the lifeless trees
accompany the lonely trail of prints
whose feet do they belong to?
I believe she has long past now.

A creaky bridge over icy waters
too swift to freeze in the cold
creakily laden with layers of snow
with anonymous footsteps to show

The bridge lies in tattered smoulders
warm smoke smelling fresh in the air
what moves a person to wreck a bridge
in the middle of the winter frost
Fiery must the hate have been
to burn the timbers hence
cruel too the harsh resolve
to will the flame to grow

The footsteps melt in the glowing warmth
I suppose she will not be back again
Farewell and good luck over the other side
May Spring be with you again.

straits times claims their survey indicates that 83% of sg population (aged 15 and over), have a religion. and 70% of the remainder believe there is a god.

i feel marginalized.

but it's alright, i am who i am. 4.2% if that be. but anyway the survey is almost definitely inaccurate since i did not get to be part of it. and since the goverment conducts more extensive and compulsory surveys.

jx counters with another bookmark. Monet's painting. from Musée d'Orsay. =] another dear bookmark that has travelled halfway round the world.

Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it,
Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,

Proud of my night, since thou with moons dost slake it,
Not to partake thy passion, my humility.

Thou can'st not boast, like Jesus, drunken without companion
Was the strong cup of anguish brewed for the Nazarene

Thou can'st not pierce tradition with the peerless puncture,
See! I usurped thy crucifix to honor mine!




just glancing through the weird assortment of files on my computer. and wondering where they came from. which part of my life were there from. what age. what place. what mind. i forget who i am

These wet rocks where the tide has been,
Barnacled white and weeded brown
And slimed beneath to a beautiful green,
These wet rocks where the tide went down
Will show again when the tide is high
Faint and perilous, far from shore,
No place to dream, but a place to die,—
The bottom of the sea once more.
There was a child that wandered through
A giant's empty house all day,—
House full of wonderful things and new,
But no fit place for a child to play.

ah, consolidated my collection of bookmarks. my bookmarks which always go missing, and which jx always find in the books i lend her.

clockwise

1. QOO bookmark. the small strip on the top left. lovingly hand-colored for me by jx.

2. some lousy shiny thing from "My Humble House". overpriced restaurant.

3. a clump of Kinokuniya advertisement bookmarks. FOC. disposable.

4. my dearest, most most most precious bookmark. and which always gives me a minor heart attack since i always seem to misplace it. it's getting yellowish. supposed to be a white hologram bookmark with musical notes. it has caught alot of pple's attention.

5. my latest latest Le Petit Prince thingy. from someone who carried it all over the world through i dunno how many countries.

6. matrix thingy. from wooshy. quite new, and also not properly used yet.

7. 2nd latest bookmark. very pretty thing from Harrods, London. too bad i dont have an antiquated personal library. nice feeling stringy thing too. and it's made in great britain.

it's been a long time since i've bought a book. hence these bookmarks are rather unused. these bookmarks are too precious to use on library books. the more bookmarks the merrier, the more books the merrier too.

erm nothing

deviantART: Vanished by =SubterfugeMalaises

i like the way the seats and window appear in the general darkness, like floating in Space.

okay, connor put up a drawing of a funky watch that he saw. which resembles the arrangement of the first one here.
5 steps to the next number. and it comes full circle. well, of course you can make the clock hands travel more distance, after all, it's just a matter of gear ratios. but nobody is going to be able to tell the time in between so there. unless u make a watch that was 'jumbled' numbers but with the hands moving normally.



this one is 7 steps to the next number


this one is 11 steps. and this is why i decided to put up all this. coz of how darn funky this one looks. backward running numbers that are actually running forward. wow. with a forward turning hand...

haloscan is dying. might be good to switch. blogger's commenting can do funky things, if you know how, and if you bother to read the blogger help files.

after sitting in front of the TV for the whole day (finally there's something for me to watch), ... and listening to 'relatively Stupid' CNA reporters saying useless things, (Diana Ser was the worst). and the poor guy being interviewed on TV who kept getting rudely cut off for live feeds, whocares.

first i would like to point out that i hope Mr. David Beckham is feeling sad that no one really cared about him.

secondly, i am extremely delighted that so much french was spoken throughout the proceedings.
fascinating to be able to watch a major international conference in session, even though it was not a debating thing. but not bad.

PARIS.
i didn't know Chirac was so big-sized. Bertrand's good. the video..utterly fantastic. better than the movies. better than pointless movies. the most CGI of all the bids. i wish they'll show the video again. the clips they show on the news are Nothing. the little girl who comes forward and speaks, but the crowd of children that came out after that was even more fantastic. very lively video, very colourful, very attractive.

NEW YORK.
the most ridiculous of all. i have no active bias against them, but it just seems like a joke to me. okay, being americans, very friendly, jovial, less formal, big loud promises, full of crap. being the free country they are, i hope they dont mind me saying that Hillary Clinton looks pathetic. like some dressed up doll, in white with colourful scarves. the whole team looked terrible lah. whatever. the video was as bad, whatever Steven Spielberg was doing. maybe it was better than his War of the Worlds. but still, useless shots of pple who dont look like they care, silly person running around, practically nothing to show off liddat. Bush and Clinton videos were even more useless.

LONDON.
frankly, i still haven't been impressed by their technical planning of the Games. layout, venues and such. it doesn't seem impressive to me. dunno. generally very well done presentation. i dislike the two olympic medallist when they were presenting, they were very useless as well, the female even more so. the theme and aim of inspiring the youths of the world was a fabulous concept, absolutely right on the spot. i can't really see how anyone can get inspired by London, but it's alright, let them go and fund and train youths, whatever. whatever is so sport-inspiring, youth-inspiring about London anyway. better London than the other 3.

MOSCOW.
i am amused the Putin spoke english, Blair spoke french, and whatever other language jumbles these people are up to. what the world. moscow. river concept quite nice. exotic city. but obviously they were never going to win since their plan was technically good enough. still, good sport of them and New York to try to the end. nod. Popov, yeah damn tall, but so?

MADRID.
poor kid who has never hosted before. ah well. such high population support, cool. but i wonder why other city's citizens dont want to support their city. the female delegates had nice suits. and they didn't lose to london and paris by that much. not bad.

i hope Paris gets to host in my lifetime.

since receiving some little bits of info from jx on the link between hypothalamus and fever, i am wondering what is wrong with mine.

tuesday night. 7pm 36+degrees. 8pm 36+ degrees. 9pm 37+ degrees. went to bed. started shivering for 30mins to 1 hr. reached 39degrees at the end of it. the body can produce heat pretty quickly, just by shivering. what the hell.

and then another mosquito bit me i think. i cursed that one to get an overdose of toxins.


in any case, the fever's down since yesterday afternoon. and finally my sorethroat("sore", feels more like open-wounded, abrased, bleeding) starts healing today.

and another mosquito bites me. i hope this one gets an overdose of antibiotics.

the product that has been making the rounds these days, other than Serbian Voda Voda mineral water. Minutemaid is under Coca-Cola... sigh. well... makes me wonder if there are actually any other companies good enough to make drinks. at least it's not lousy.

another picture from another pro photographer at deviantart. so nice...

in Blogger news, it is now possible to post images onto Blogger blogs without going through 'Hello'. free hosting. and you can arrange layout to be left, middle or right.

ah sigh, shitty sorethroat. which started abt friday last week and has grown ever since. and which no doubt was the propagator of this darn fever which rollercoasters up and down and peaked at 39.3 yesterday morning. at least the medicine's suppressing the fever. but doesn't seem to be helping the throat.

and i Just got bitten twice by a mosquito on the foot while typing this. i hope the darn thing gets my fever. bloody bloodsucker.

back to the ages of the dark blog. the last design was probably the brightest yet. pretty curious about the way the color scheme turned out though. what is this color scheme called? it seems to look like it has a name. earth tones? rather accidental though. shall leave it at the moment since it looks peaceful.

wonder if others actually get used to looking at a dark screen. after all the bright bright webbies and windows.

blog revamp. new skin. nah, skin has too much of a cut-and-paste connotation. slogged through most of the html code today. needed many references and Macromedia Dreamweaver to help me. first time i used Dreamweaver to edit html. well, it's a superb program. Dreamweaver is to Frontpage as Microsoft Word is to Notepad. but of course if you don't understand any html, then you can't use it.

matt says the pic looks like it's anime. who agrees and who doesn't?
other comments, criticisms, all welcome. go ahead.

after a long stretch of time with the old blog, i've finally found some inspiration to change. miss tinkering with blogs. itchy fingers love to tinker and rebuild things.

ok im tired after looking at html for the entire day. i can't stand 1024x768 resolution, blogs look nicer when they're small. but shrug.

ladidah.

more back blogging.

290605
ice skating. discovery that safra membership has more uses.
"War of the Worlds" pretty silly. i wonder why they bothered to make this show. i don't even know what's so great about the effects. pathetic.

300605
rollercoaster day. ups and downs, and insanity. i wonder. but in its own ways memorable.

010705
the sun was out. and i am tired.