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

Murder, She Wrote

I had a best friend (A) who looked almost exactly like me. She was loud, vivacious, sometimes a little brash, but the most loyal friend you could ever ask for. I was quiet, calm, the ‘sane’ to her ‘insane’. We could not be more different but we clicked. We were very close, and if a person didn’t know us, it would be hard for them to tell us apart. We were best friends with this one guy (A) and the three of us were pretty cool. I liked that guy, but he only saw me as a sister. Besides, he liked A who was completely oblivious to it all. JC ended, and we parted ways. I went overseas to study in a university and only kept touch with A.

One year, I returned to meet up with them at some newly opened shopping centre for dinner. All I remember are fragmentary visions of an arcade, blinding strobe lights, fucking high heels , crazy dancing, and getting very drunk. Then somehow, in the midst of it all, I brought A down to the basement travelling on many long escalators which killed my feet because I was already unstable. There was a gigantic fountain in the middle of the floor and there was an opening which had stairs leading down to some… Hole in the ground where there were couples lurking in the shadows but everybody was minding their own business. We leaned against this wooden wall, trying to catch our breath. Just then, B came dashing after us, asking us what was going on and why did we run away so quickly. I became a murderer. I produced a knife out of nowhere and stabbed him. In shock, A and I slammed back against that wooden wall which cracked and water immediately began seeping through my back. It felt so real, because I could practically feel my blouse turning damp and sticking to my skin. In a panic, we just sprinted out and ran all the way to the bus interchange, the tightening of my chest and throbbing in my head so real. Yes, in heels that were probably 4-inches high.  Behind us, the wall completely splintered and water began to gush out and filled the hole quickly, going on to flood the shopping centre. It was crazy. Like some scene from Titanic, I could hear the water filling up the place even as we waited impatiently for a bus. People drowned.

I think we were being hunted down for murder, and we were so afraid of being caught. I swear my heart thumped so hard I thought my ribcage was going to break from the sheer force. On the bus, we pretended like nothing was wrong, like it was a normal night out for a couple of best friends. The bus was quite empty, because it was already rather late at night. It was approaching midnight, in fact. Sitting right at the back, we said we wanted to kill ourselves together. To start all over again, and everything that went wrong in our lives will be wiped out. And maybe in our next lives, we will still be best friends, and B would never come between us again. B was, at this point, dead – his corpse probably sinking slowly in the water tinged pink by his blood. We got off the bus at some MRT station and caught the last train somewhere, where we took a bus. Thank goodness the bus was near empty, because on those TVmobile screens, was the news of the tragic (and highly weird) incident in that shopping centre and the murder of B. Our faces were there as well. How the hell they managed to discover that we were the culprits, I have no idea. It was like a crazy cat-and-mouse game. I was so scared and I kept trembling. A was just as frightened and she had a look that suggested that she was about to cry any moment. When we reached the zoo (?), we got off, thinking that perhaps we could blend into the bunch of tourists at the Night Safari tour. But as we were about to cross the road to step into the zoo, I saw a poster with our faces up next to the entrance and grabbed A, telling her that we had to get away. The fear was just too much to bear and in the end, we decided that we were going to kill ourselves that night.

We walked quite a long distance, finally boarding yet another empty bus at some ulu bus-stop. On the bus, we talked about everything we had been through together. Every single little detail of our lives - from our first birthdays to our first crushes to our teenage years to our first kisses to our university life. Simply reminiscing and savoring those memories we had saved so carefully. We got off at a cemetry, and told the driver we wanted to visit the grave of a relative when he asked why we were out so late. It was so easy to believe because we looked so alike. Like sisters, practically twins. But instead of staying there at the cemetry, we began walking again on bare feet, only a few streetlamps lighting the way. We finally stopped at a large field. Just this huge grass filed with long stalks of grass. We made our way right into the middle and lay down side by side, looking up at the luminous moon. Hours and hours passed, and night was turning into day. Right before the last of the darkness gave way to the pink of the sunrise, we slit our wrists and our throats and lay there bleeding, but very much alive. We had been silent all this while, but A suddenly said in a voice much softer than her usual one, that she had always wondered what it would sound like to scream when your throat was cut. She said she wondered if the world could hear your pain so much clearer. And so, while the sun began to creep up into the sky, we screamed. The sound was agonizing, hoarse, and there was the sound of blood gurgling in our ears. That sunrise was beautiful, but it was so painful and I cried and cried. We died.

Then, I was a soul. I saw our lifeless forms, faces all made-up prettily but black tear tracks marked our cheeks and party clothes draped over our bodies but all in disarray. The glow of the early morning sun made us look beautiful. For once. I saw a pearly trail leaving A’s body and I knew it was her, but I would never see her again. I drifted home. It was a long, long way back but I found myself in my room. I saw my mother just waking up. I watched her wash up and clean the house. I watched my father wake up, wash up, and light the hundreds of lamps in the living room. I watched them sit down and eat breakfast together. I listened to my father ask where I was and my mother telling him that I had gone out with my friends last night, but I promised her I would come back for lunch. I watched her cook lunch and set it on the stove. I watched my father make a shelf for my room because I requested for it. I watched my mother slowly arranging my knick-knacks on it. So meticulously. All the trinkets that I treasured, all handled carefully and arranged nicely. And she looked so old.

And I just sank right through my bed and it was all I could do not to scream and tell her I was right there and I was sorry I killed myself. Sorry I was so stupid. Sorry for all my rebellious moments. Sorry I wouldn’t be coming home for lunch today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after. I cried and cried. Again. And my father suddenly called her from the other room. The television was on and it was some special news report of the tragedy last night, along with the report that A and I had been charged for murder. The doorbell rang. Looking completely shellshocked, my mother went out to open the door. It was the police. Our bodies had been found. I watched her cry, and I watched my father listen to the following report on television that our bodies had been found, and watched him cry. For the first time in my life, they cried. And I cried too, hovering around them, but I couldn’t touch them, my hand just went right through. And each time I tried and failed, I got more agitated. And I kept trying and trying, but my hands never came in contact with warm bodies or cotton shirts – just air. And as I kept failing and failing, I kept crying and crying.

And I woke up crying. It was a fucking nightmare. And the worst part of it all, is that I remember every fucking detail.

Melodramatic Dream

This is my new private blog. I might show it to someone sometime. So it won’t be that private anymore. But whatever. There are just some things that other people don’t need to know. Figured that I should post about my seriously weird dream before I forget all about it when tomorrow comes around. So, last night my dream went something like this:

I was at home with my mother watching television when I suddenly decided that I had a craving for ice cream and potato chips and hence left the house with my wallet and handphone to get to the shops. I was in my huge black IP Zone tee and gray Nike shorts. As I was walking down the stairs (don’t ask me why, I don’t know why I couldn’t have just taken the stupid lift), I bumped into Val. She was in that suit Sunye was wearing in that So Hot live performance and then she asked me if I could do her a favor. Naturally, I agreed. She asked me to watch a movie for her. o.O?! I said I wanted to watch TV at home and why couldn’t she do it another time? But apparently she had a stomachache and desperately needed to get home to rest, but Shawn was waiting for her at the bus-stop opposite RMPS. Instead of watching the movie, I said, why don’t I just head over to the bus-stop and tell him that you can’t make it? With that, I went off happily. But as I walked, the wind got stronger and colder and I could smell rain. Dark clouds were gathering. I got a little worried and walked faster. But as I walked, I kept passing by these bunches of teenagers sitting around in weird clothes – there was even one in a clown suit WTH! They were selling SkullCandy headphones. -.- At ridiculously low prices too. But because they looked so intimidating like BALIAs, I got freaked out and just kept my dao face on as I hurried past them. But the further I walked, the more I realized that they were like… selling cigarettes too?! Anyway, I made it to the bus-stop but for some reason, I boarded a bus. The bunch of BALIAs also boarded and the bus was almost filled to the brim. They started selling stuff to people on the bus! And the cigarettes were sold one stick at a time instead of one packet. Then all at once, policemen swarmed the bus and we were all handcuffed. I panicked, and I’m like, WTH HELLO!!! I’M COMPLETELY INNOCENT, I’M JUST DOING MY FRIEND A FAVOR LET GO OF ME. Then… something happened and I’m shipped off to this place with  alot of people auditioning for something? And then this short bald man who’s very obviously and flamboyantly gay, was introducing me to them and going, “Oh, she’s fantastic. She’s from XXX School and she’s the best debater. So we’re all going to win the competition this time round!”

And instead of clubbing him in the head with my handphone and declaring proudly that I’m from FAC, I found myself smiling sheepishly at everyone, and wondering how I was going to get home. And I made friends with this nice girl who kindly informed me that I was in Malay-freaking-sia. Just how the hell I got there, I have no idea. Anyway, we were queueing to get into a room and then I whispered to the girl in front that “Actually I’m not from debates. I’m from drama.” Which is double wtf, because I belong in neither. Heck. I don’t even belong in ELDDS. (Must be the side effects of hanging out too much with Bunny, Ariel and Grace). Then the girl looked apalled for a moment because it was apparently a VERY IMPORTANT COMPETITION but after that she just whispered that it’d all be fine and I’ll be safe if I don’t tell anybody else. And then we entered the room where there was a gigantic bed with super soft silk covers and thick quilts and these guys just totally went WAHOOOO and leapt onto the bed. And so I curled in next to that random girl and fell asleep. Then we woke up for dinner and thereafter, we learnt some odd drumming routine. (WTH DO THOSE HAVE TO DO WITH DEBATES?!) The drumming routine was done with those disposable wooden chopsticks on upturned porcelian bowls by the way. Following which we were sent not back to the awesome hotel room but dorms which we had to share between almost 8 people. The beds were placed in odd positions like, four together, the heads facing each other so it came out something like a cross? And then these small bedside tables with drawers next to it. And in it were clothes and my belongings. o.O And when I called my parents, I actually felt the need to lie to them that I rushed off for a school event right after I bought my ice cream and chips because I forgot to inform them. ?!?!?! Then I called Val up and started telling her in hushed tones about my predicament. The other people were REALLY freaky. And btw, whoever heard of a debates team having more than 20 people?

At this point in time, I started thinking that this was a horrifically weird dream. I woke up with a jolt and scurried off to the toilet, then snuggled back into bed. And continued the dream.

Just as I was surreptitiously sneaking my phone back into the drawer, I was pounced on by this OTHER girl, let’s call her B, who told me that they were all going shopping and I should go along. So I did, bringing my phone along and praying desperately that I could contact someone else who could come down to Msia to pick me up. From where, I dno. Then we switched scenes to some shopping centre that was suspiciously empty with scary glass walls and glass floors and glass railings and stuff. We had to buy some stuff to uh… Make ourselves look more presentable. And yes, I was still in that giant IP Zone tee and gray Nike shorts. Then Cheryl A called me at that moment to ask me if I wanted to go watch a movie but instead of whispering to her to get me the fuck out of there, I told her I was shopping at JB. -.- And that I don’t know what clothes to buy. She freaking told me to buy a pink skirt. And a white tank. And so I did. I don’t know where the money came from. But by then, all the people were sneaking me weird glances like they knew I wasn’t supposed to be there. DAMN RIGHT I WASN’T. I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE AT HOME EATING ICE CREAM AND WATCHING TV.

Fuck, the dream was getting weird! I thought. I need to wake up! But I didn’t.

Finally I decided that I had to tell them the truth and so I blurted out that I was from Drama! Not Debates! And please will someone just tell Mr. Flamboyant that I’m not his wunderkid who’s amazing at debates and let me go home! But they all just made sympathetic noises and told me the skirt I bought was so cute. -.- Oh there was a fat Malay boy. We went to this sweetshop that looked small from the outside but was suffocatingly big inside. Shelves and shelves and rows and rows of candy and the walls were lime green but the light was kind of dim so it all looked really odd. But I bought some interesting looking sweets which were reminiscent of those HP books and left the place. And then some things happened in between that I forgot. And then it was the competition. We were seated like at the Parliament house. In those wooden bleachers kind of thing. And we had GIANT PINK AFRO WIGS. And donned BLCK LACE BONNETS. YES, EVEN THE GUYS!!!! And we had the upturned porcelian bowls before us. I broke about five sets of chopsticks before I managed to break one apart nicely. We turned our backs to the opposing party and starting hitting out some whacky drum beat. Which I remember was pretty cool but I can’t, for the life of me, remember how it went. Not that I can tell you anyway. The opposition was very cool though. They wore the suits in Sorry Sorry. YES EVEN THE GIRLS. WHY AM I ON THE GHEY TEAM?! Then… No debate took place as far as I can remember. But we won! Whoots?

Then we went to this tall glass (again) building to wait for a coach to transport us back to Singapore. I thought it was raining outside but instead, the walls of the building were a waterfall. So cool right? Gosh, I have the most imaginative dreams ever. And then there were lots of green plants around. Like literally all over the place. The floor was gray marble. My dreams are always in color, it’s so freaky. Then the coach came. Y’know, the classic dark blue and banana yellow seats in some weird material that looks like somebody vomitted a rainbow over the covers? Yeah, those. And then people kept congratulating me for hell knows what. Then suddenly amongst them was Cheryl A again! And she was wearing that white tank and pink skirt that she asked me to buy and I’m like, OI, WHY’D YOU ASK ME TO BUY THE SAME STUFF AS YOU!? And she said that she thought I would just not listen to her and buy something red and black anyway. -.- The whole world is going mad. Then Bunny appeared and she hit my head and went something like, OI, WHY DID YOU SAY YOU’RE IN DEBATES WHEN YOU’RE NOT DO YOU KNOW THAT I’VE BEEN WANTING TO JOIN THIS COMPETITION SINCE FOREVER? And I was like, T.T it’s not my fault I don’t even know how I ended up here. And then I fell asleep on the bus. The bus ride was jerky. Then it crashed into a roadblock and I got jolted awake with a pain in my ass.

Apparently I had rolled right off the bed and hit my ass on the floor.

Well, at least it wasn’t my face.

The recount isn’t entirely accurate but it really is the closest I can come to in my current state. I’m going to flunk my ELL test tomorrow because I haven’t prepared by writing the dumb essay but whatever let me just fail ELL sucks anyway if there wree other more interesting things to take I wouldn’t even take it oh gosh. I’m so sleepy, time to paste this into a word doc and send to C and off to sleep. kthxbye, oh the perks of a private blog. <3