Therapy

Warning: This will be a most unusual post for this blog because it will contain several photographs and we all know that my posts hardly contain photographs except for that one big one at the start of most posts in relation to the text.

Like every other JC1 student in Singapore, I have been stressing out over PW. I am convinced that it is a soul-sucking, mind-boggling torture device invented by MOE to batter us all into submission. It is, in fact, the second most successful torture device following ‘school’ – which is a most magnificent invention that subdues us and prevents us from taking over the world. It’s been tried and tested on millions; which explains why you only see people trying (and failing) to conquer the world on TV.

Anyway, I slept at 3.30am this morning and woke up frequently between that time and 7am when I woke up for good to go to school. Killer migraine for the rest of the day. After hanging around at Starbucks alone after Ariel and Janice left for about an hour, I headed for home, hoping to unwind after a nice bath. I unearthed this:

Principessa (The Bellaza Box)

Some kind lady gave this to me in June I think. I could not bear to use it. It is supposed to contain mini versions of the following, but my box only contained those bolded. )< I suspect that kind lady took the rest.

• Bacio Me Lip Balm
• Bagno Bliss Spa Cream Bath
• Candelina Travel Candle
• Cattiva Diva Silky Hand Cream
• Dolce Dreams Whipped Body Lotion
• Fresh Fiore Shower Cream
• Principessa pouf

So I had a nice bath with the nice smelling stuff (although frankly, I’m sick of the smell already) and lotion and whatnot. The hand lotion works wonders. I proceeded to clean and cut my toenails – gross as it sounds. Too bad for you if I turned you off your dinner. And finally, the therapeutic part of my whole day.

What could be more therapeutic than cleaning and organizing? ;D

I spent a good two hours refolding and rehanging all my clothes and arranging them according to colour/how often I wear them. I have FOURTEEN PAIRS OF SOCKS, wth for?! I tossed a few pairs out; along with a few shirts that I never wear anymore. It also appears that I have a large amount of oversized clothes. I need to start getting some clothes my size. -.- I also have an abundance of red/pink clothes, contrary to popular belief. I just wear the same few black ones over and over again. Then I reorganized my drawers and cleaned them with a damp cloth. All the drawers in my room (which amount to like, 9)! I had some accessories in weird places. ._.

My books were next to be attacked. I reshelved them all and cleaned the cupboard. I unearthed some interesting things behind the books. I need to get the clear plastic to wrap some of my new books. Giving away some of the books too.  I realized that I actually do have quite a few Chinese books; most of which I have never read. I have no idea why I even bothered to buy them. Some of them have hanyupinyin, even.

It inspired me so much that I gave me laptop a good clean and even gave my television screen a cursory wipe with the spray thingy. I need to get that kind of thing people use to clean keyboards. The stupid mini-vacuum I got is USELESS AS HELL. And that rubber covering for my keypad totally muffles my speakers. ):

Keyboard putty! (Doesn’t it look ridiculously CUTE?)

I have had Avril on replay. Haven’t listened to her songs in ages. (: I’ve been readdicted to this cartoon recently. Class of the Titans – heard of it before? Haha.

Class of the Titans gang (Anti-clockwise): Neil, Theresa, Jay, Odie, Archie (:D!!!), Herry, Atlanta (:D!!!)

It’s pretty awesome, really! It’s based off Greek mythodology so every episode is about a different monster/creature/god from ancient Greece. It’s informative and funny and I like Archie and Atlanta. I even wrote a fanfic about them before. X: And somebody liked it so much she wanted to translate it to French! -brags- Well, not the best graphics around but I do like the concept and characters a lot. (: Speaking about it, I’m going to watch a couple of episodes and then run to bed because I’m frankly quite tired.

I feel like hanging out alone some day – not feeling very people-friendly these days. Maybe next week? ^^

Warmness On The Soul

I give my heart to you,
I give my heart to you ’cause nothing can compare in this world to you.

- Warmness on the Soul; Avenged Sevenfold

Virus

I feel sick. ): I keep coughing non-stop and I have muscle aches in the weirdest places and my stomach hurts and my eyes keep burning and I really really feel like crap. I think I’m about to run a fever. I don’t feel like stepping out of the house at all. I want to curl up in bed and watch SKINS and laugh at the British humour and feel depressed when I see Maxxie because the hottest guy in the show is the gay one and feel sad for him ’cause his dad won’t let him follow his dreams and I know how that feels and Tony, because he’s lost the ability to use his hands properly and he feels like shit and LMAO when Chris snubs his girl Jal for not having any ‘moves’ and ends up gawking when she grinds some other guy and swoon when I see Effy because she’s the prettiest girl EVER who really loves her brother, kind of.

Well at least dinner of pasta and Japanese food and smoked salmon salad was great and it was fun walking along the Singapore River and around the Clarke Quay area and eating Turkish Ice Cream all the way to City Hall with Val last night. (:

All It Takes

This is poison.

This is lethal poison that can kill. All it takes is one pinprick – one droplet on the tip of a hair-thin needle, scraping the surface of your skin ever so gently. A single droplet staining one cell black, and the potent liquid diffusing into your bloodstream.

This is a cell.

This is a cell that has been poisoned. It is black. It is stretching out tendrils so fine, you cannot see them under a microscope – it is all in your mind. The millions of tendrils pierce one cell each and there is a cluster of black. And it goes on, dark threads weaving slowly, torturously upwards until it reaches an organ.

This is your heart.

This is your heart thumping steadily. It is a mass of muscle, real and alive. Thump. Thump. Thump. The flesh at the edges is turning dark. This is a gradient from jet black to blood red. The blood gushing back to your heart is black; darker than your veins. The beating gets erratic. Thumpthumpthump. Your heart quivers. The pulsating redness is turning purple, turning brown, turning black, turning dark. Your heart gives one last feeble squeeze to release a fountain of black. And it stops.

This is your mouth.

This is your mouth stretching itself to its limits, your vocal chords twisting themselves into knots, your throat tensing and relaxing to form words. The air before your mouth swirls and the particles vibrate vapidly. There should be sound. Invisible writing surrounds you, words that do not appear before your eyes or tickle your ears sprint from your mouth and ricochet off a barrier – clear as crystal, tough as diamond.

This is a dome.

This is a dome that is not a sanctuary, mind you. This is a dome that is a dungeon in a castle. You are locked in, and there are cracks in the dome. You can see what is outside and people can look in, but you can never leave. Never. Not ever. So the words that you speak, or try to speak, multiply at an alarming rate to drown you. You should have stopped but you went right on, and the pressure becomes too much for you to take. You implode. Your skin stretches and your pores, they suck and turn you inside out. You become a twisting, squirming mass.

This is you.

This is you, a squirming mass that melts into a pool of black ink. No, not ink. Poison, that is what it is. And the puddle gets smaller, and smaller, and there is condensation on the underside of the dome – translucent gray droplets that glint under the sunlight. You are ashes. You are dust. You are the miniscule bits of things that people do not care about. You make your way through the cracks in the dome. You have left your dungeon behind.

This is your life.

This is your life that is an empty dome when it ebbed away. You have done nothing, achieved nothing. You are nothing.

All it took, was one pinprick.

Letter To My 17-year-old Self

Stop deluding yourself. You are not smart, neither are you stupid. You are just not hardworking enough. What made you think you even had the slightest chance of taking H3 ELit? Oh please, just because you excelled at it for four years does not mean that you will continue to do well at it. In fact, your results are disgustingly far from excellent – ALL OF THEM. Have you seen the number of Cs you got? You are not pathetic because you did badly, but because you could have done so much better and you did not. You have the capability to and you did not. You know you could and you did not. You had opportunities that you could have grabbed and you did not. You did not. You did not do anything worthy of yourself. I am so fucking disappointed in you. You don’t know how many people you have let down, including yourself. You deserve your shitty marks because you were too busy thinking that GP and ELit and ELL would be subjects that you were both interested and able to score well in and not spending enough time actually making sure that you WOULD do well in them. You were overconfident and I hate you. I hate people like you. You think you are all that just because you used to score As and Distinctions and praises from your teacher for your good writing skills. Well, welcome to reality, babe. You have none of that. None of that at all. Not anymore. Because this isn’t about passion, see? It’s about skill. You lost your passion and you never had the skill. Ha. So, now that you have your results slip adorned with an S and several Cs, let’s see you cry now that you lost your chance to study H3 ELit, because there are so many other people out there who are better than you – who proved their worth by being better than you, even if you seemed to be the only one truly interested in it in the first place. You wanted it but you did not work hard enough for it, and it is clearly all your damn fault. You fucking know it. Too damn bad for you. No excuses, you have only yourself to blame. You are so damn gross. Come to think of it, you don’t even deserve to cry over this and you earned every one of the marks that you got with the terrible, terrible work that you submitted.

Let me tell you this, girl. You better buck the hell up and do exceedingly well for your A-levels or you are going to find yourself fucked up and thrown out into the cold. I won’t care about you anymore, neither will anybody else. And I will kill you. KILL you, because someone like you who would rather waste their life away doesn’t even have the right to live. Give the right to someone else, why don’t you?

Sad, really. But I decided to give you the cruel truth so take it like that ‘man’ you are and work on it.

By the way, fuck your life. [8