september babies are....

wow.
I open an email titled: What baby are you? and it gives a brief general analysis on January to December babies.. out of curiousity, i scroll down to September to check out mine. lo & behold, what do i see?

-SEPTEMBER-

Active and dynamic. Decisive and haste but tends to regret. Attractive and affectionate to oneself. Strong mentality. Loves attention. Diplomatic.Consoling, friendly and solves people's problems.Brave and fearless. Adventurous. Loving and caring. Suave and generous. Usually you have many friends. Enjoys to make love. Emotional. Stubborn. Hasty. Good memory. Moving, motivates oneself and others. Loves to travel and explore. Sometimes sexy in a way that only their lover can understand.

hahaha.

a rush of blood to the head

wow.
since season began, i've been having reach-home-at-10-oclock-nights. so for me, today was another dead day, especially since i didn't see the one and only star in my universe. but maybe that's a good thing, cos when her bright light shines for me, epinephrine is released from the adrenal glands and when secreted into my bloodstream, it rapidly prepares my body for action in emergency situations caused by triggers that may be due to threatening, exciting, or environmental stressor conditions. The hormone boosts the supply of oxygen and glucose to the brain(that's why we feel happy on high at the same time) and muscles while suppressing other non-emergency bodily processes. It increases heart rate and stroke volume .... Heck. what matters now is that i've solved the mystery of why my heart races whenever i see her, and that's because she's the one that pulls the trigger. if there was competition for heartbeat racing, i know i'd win every time. with her, there'll be no false starts. however, all in all i end up dying earlier as producing adrenaline uses up life force and results in a shorter life span. so i'm still dead anyway. life is bleak.

define love.

wow.
people say that it's not money that makes her world go round, yet she empties your wallet by the $pound$. you don't find love, but love finds you, or rather, love fines you, costing you a broken heart in some unfortunate situations, an illegitimate child in very unfortunate situations, and a lifelong enagagement(aka financial) debt to your spouse in i'm-extremely-sorry-to-hear-you're-married situations.

"If I can't find/be with anyone who is of the standard I'm looking for, I'd rather not be with anyone at all" So even if it means staying a nun for the rest of your life, it's better than wasting both of your lives right? - that's what she says. HER personal opinion. haha. joke. all jc girls are desperate. don't kid me.
well, let me change that to: So even if what it costs me is staying bankrupt for the rest of my life, it's better than spending money?

tell me, how can you profit if you don't invest? enlighten me, why are there so many entrepreneurship risk-taking rags to riches stories?

cmon, what's the point of waiting for the perfect guy. be proactive. don't just react. love him though he has his flaws, and help correct them. you spend, not waste. the bad thing about mr right is that when he starts showing his liabilities, u begin to regret having chosen him. and that's when u'll see, u definitely are, definitely are, indefinitely desperate. fyi, when a person likes something or someone, he/she wants to be surrounded by that special someone/thing 24/7. so don't blame me for nothing, or rather, don't blame her. PLEASE don't tell me i'm a wet blanket.

btw it's just MY personal opinion. not trying to pick a fight or anything.

what's the boy word for slut?

wow.
when something goes wrong, you can turn over a new leaf, or you could branch out to greater things, and maybe even plant a few seeds. but when your marriage doesn't work out, you can't just sign a bunch of divorce papers and find a new girl. you've got to sacrifice, and reach out to her. maybe you've got to perform better during rehearsals, and procreate with a purpose. hopefully no accidents will occur beforehand along the way, and there'll be a happy ending- possibly in a few years time, one of you will be reading bedtime stories of your pre-marital love life to your 10 yearold kid. and she'll say, 'Dad, I can't believe you drank... and smoked... and was such a slut... But I still love you.'

definitely, maybe. - from one perspective, we can say that it's a really bad show that showcases the oh-so-hollywood decay of the moral values of society and the declining emphasis that sex&marriage is sacred, in the context of the 21st century. yet from another point of view, it helps awaken ignorant people like me who takes their parents for granted and have never really sympathised with the plight of young children suffering from broken marriages. (apathy is a terrible thing) or you could just treat it as a mere guy's-point-of-view-chickflick-movie and have a great laugh at the main character's miserably pathetic love life.

wow.
so in conclusion, what's the boy word for slut? >>hero.
"sadly the world is in a state where guys who can lay more girls are glamourised. where as on the opposite end of the spectrum girls who do the same are labelled cheap...sluts...and whores."-gabbyseow. embarassing ain't it.

i'm so sleepy i could die

the dawn is breakin(ahem..), it's early mornin,
my bio clock's dyin, but time is tickin.
already i'm so sleepy i could die.

all my bags are packed, acj's beckonin,
can't be late, kyaw saw lynn's waitin,
already i'm so sleepy i could die.

So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again
Oh, babe, I hate to go

tomorrow's thursday, gp package testin,
i'm not studyin, rather be bloggin,
already i'm so sleepy i could die.

chem spa's arrived, acids alkalines a-mixin,
mrs yeong's watchin, it'll be pressurizin,
already i'm so sleepy i could die.

So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again
Oh, babe, I hate to go

sigh with a smile

The Ideal situation.

In Reality...

i sigh(with a smile). I get a kick every time I see her standing there before me. I get a kick even though it's clear to me that she obviously does not adore me

you don't have to be a superhero. just someone's hero

wow.
it sucks to be horrifyingly sick, and blame the whole world when things don't go my way. it is so easy to make excuses, as there are an inifinite could-have reasons why things went wrong. however, i've realised that whenever i voice out my complaints, whatever i say will fall on my own deaf ears. so there's no point in faulting anyone else, but myself.(then what happens when these pessimistic feelings bottle up and take a depressing toll.. like how it is now) i've had enough. i want to correct my imperfections. the will is there, so WHY AM I FIGHTING A LOSING BATTLE? i tell myself to think positively, yet somehow i just can't concentrate. i resolute myself to do something, but i'll end up forgetting my purpose. i'm such a loser. and i hate to lose.

what's holding me back? why cant i unleash the talent? why can't i have the ability to manipulate time&space, move at superhuman speed and be that man of steel? they say you don't have to be a superhero. just someone's hero. we can do no great things, only small things with great love. then why do humans, insignificant beings such as myself, try to live up to everyone elses expectations? why do we want to be the greatest and best? why do we feel the urge to want to stand out sometimes? why do we demand respect? why do we ask so many questions?

WHY?


wow.
had a hot date with my squash racquet today. but things went awry. i played the game wrong. i didn't employ enough tact. maybe i didn't try hard enough. i missed the sweet spot. the ball didn't connect. i timed my strokes badly. and now, the frame of our relationship has collapsed. and we've decided to break up. or rather, the racquet broke. and now i have to get a new one. and that'll cost me. owning a squash racquet is like having a girlfriend - you could say it's isotopic.

sigh. squash is an enigma. why do the courts appear so small from the outside, yet one step through the door makes you feel like you're upsizing that pathetic student's meal you buy from mcdonalds?

physics lectures take a toll on my sanity, it's not a theory-

wow.
'its not what someone says about you that changes the general public's impression on you, but how you respond to that certain comment that changes the image on you viewed by others.'-(absorbed from gab's philosophy on social synthesis)

Hmm, at the end of the day, it's about how you view yourself as the man in the mirror, and whether you're able to look into your own eyes and say, "that's me". Being perfect is not about that scoreboard out there. It's not about winning. It's about you and your relationship with yourself, your family and your friends. So do what your heart tells you to, for life is about the senses, about the touch and about consistency.

wow.
physics lectures take a toll on my sanity...
somehow i imagine myself in the lift, with apparent weight support. something goes wrong and the lift starts free falling with gravitational acceleration of 9.81m/s^2, from maybe 10 storeys up? i desperately cling to the railing. when the lift crashes at the bottom, i fight the relative impulse and the law of conservation of momentum to forcefully jump upwards in order to neutralise the downward inertia[which in effect, is impossible]. at the same time, the lift's mechanical system explodes(i imagine a rising explosion), so i lean towards the side with my back facing the charring flames. i continue clutching on to the railing support, with my back dearly burnt. But what happens next if it turns too hot, and i can't hold on further? will i allow the heat to sizzle into my palms, or let go and be devoured by the fire? then help arrives, and my rescuers-to-be throw down a rope for me to climb to safety. but what if the rope snaps halfway up? finally, i can only imagine my body landing on the floor of the lift in a dozen awkward obscene positions.

self-inflicted paranoia? or is it just lek bee hoon ..

5 dollars is alot of money.

wow.
not much inspiration nowadays. must be the barber's fault. i quote my dumbblonde friend -"cut hair till no hair left then end up also no brains left..(and she starts laughing in the most awkward fashion -an inhaling laugh instead of the usual exhaling opposite)". how logic-defying she is. BUT, does a trip to the barber really make a difference in the way we think? at least for guys, usually it'll feel like there's a load off my head; both in the literal and thoughtful sense. Cos as i bounce around in the court, i feel lighter, as if i'm wearing nike-air shoes, but this time it's called no-hair instead. [random fact: now you know where the term airhead comes from]

i remember wearing braces to training for the first time 2 months ago. "extra metal too heavy lah... weight pulling me down, can't run!". yet today with less mass on me, i still lost my match against yx. and now i owe him a lunch, instead of what could have been- the privilege and supersexual honour of wearing the ac squash captain badge for a week. now i feel stupid. maybe a haircut does make one less smart. the missing hair seemingly brings about a turmoil of absent memories. like shaving off brain cells. not only do i see things in different light now, i feel so "fresh"(-quote lauren) that it's like a reboot of the mind, a brand new system startup with absolutely no programs installed at all. but maybe last time can't see cos long fringy hair blocking the light. haha.

wow.
i'm gonna join students council. not. dunno. maybe. contemplating it.
even if i'm a nominee. will i get voted in? will i deserve to be in it? will i want it? will i enjoy the responsibility part?(or end up like a senior who got sacked in the fight club incident)
what are the benefits. advantages. perks. A year of funnnn and like a lifetime of friendship?
at the exclusively cheap cost of $5. hmm. shouldn't they be paying councillors for their service?
plus, one has to go through a 300 word self-essay, 30 minute interview and 144000 seconds of campaigning?
plus the only stylish reason to join council is that it makes u feel and look good about yourself. and u get to wear those goody2shoes.
anyway, something for you people to laugh about: before coming to jc i thought council was referred to as counsel(totally off-meaning). haha. councillor vs counsellor

zz. why the hell am i wasting time here when i've got a gp essay and chinese compo to take care of.

countdown to april 7th twentyoeight. 6 months before she graduates. so what.

As i eat takeout fried rice, think about what to blog for april fool's, drinking what i thought was orange juice at first (but turned out to be carrot juice), my mind turns blank. not that i'm not typing out anything or what, but all i'm shooting is blanks. dear cupid, if you're for real, you've gotta lend me one of your arrows. Cos so what if she knows my name, if she doesn't know me. so what if she tastes the chocolates, if she hasn't tasted what it means to know me. so what if i see her, if she doesn't wanna see me. so what if i think of her, if she thinks nothing of me. so what was the armageddon of embarassment for? so what was it worth? all that ammo intrinsically targeted at her have just richocheted off the vantage point and fired back at me. all i've changed is the way i think she looks at me, and the increased number of backflips my stomach makes when that happens. she doesn't need a timepiece to enchant me- her hips, her thighs, i'm already hypnotised. 6 days left, 6 months before she graduates. there's just not enough time. i ask myself what's with all the usual lovesick acronyms and overflowing anti-endorphins,. why am i bathing in selfpity again? why is my life such a turn off? goodnight.