type abc

i simply have to glorify Sean the self-proclaimed sexpert's theory

the names used in the convo have been changed so as to, um, protect the identities of certain someones

Sean says:
lol please Tom's type b person
Sean says:
same as me haha
Sean says:
will definately get a gal
blee says:
what's type b?
Sean says:
it means gals will never reveal their true feelings to u
Sean says:
i mean never
Sean says:
but they enjoy toking to u and prefer to like u in secret
Sean says:
and they will onli reveal their liking for u if u confess first
blee says:
what's type a
Sean says:
type a
Sean says:
is Dick's type
Sean says:
gals confess feeling in front of htem
Sean says:
them
Sean says:
but if u think carefully type b is beta
Sean says:
is like both parties really like each other
Sean says:
rather than type A
Sean says:
which is a one sided love thing
blee says:
nope. it sucks
blee says:
then type b will always be the one in trouble
blee says:
having to gut up his balls to confess
Sean says:
lol but its damn romantic wad
Sean says:
like true love kind of shit
Sean says:
nvm next time u will know
Sean says:
type c is Harry's type
Sean says:
haha
blee says:
what's that
Sean says:
can onli find gal through common interst
Sean says:
which means mugging
Sean says:
hahahaaha

the end.
don't guess my type. haha.

unintentional suicide

"i wish someone would just come and stab me, i'll be extremly grateful... but i don't want to end up in a coma or anything, get what i mean?"

is that considered suicidal? is that the cue to console? how do you form sentences to respond to someone who tells you that?
and when he replies, "hey, thanks.. just to let you know, your concern is appreciated", doesn't it sound just like what he would say right before he's about to jump.

the censured self-blaming torture. the disambiguating sympathy. should i keep my mouth shut instead, and let the unspoken do the talking? is silence golden?
maybe just giving the weary looks of encouragement and empathy will help?
which ends up making them feel exacerbated and not stronger?

.isn't it daunting, being afraid to share heartfelt conformities of truth?
..and well, accidentally speaking of hurtful misguided expressions?
...or be shortchanged of words- standing inadequate, jaw-locked & lip-sealed, unsure whether to lend a shoulder for her to cry on?

screw all that, they're still champs regardless. it's pride and it's joy.

no more strings attached

wow.
the nb girls are wicked sick. they've got hwa chong "beggin them for mercy", it's like the song-cum-netball version. they make the crowd go wildddd. as quoted from my captain, yx, "you see when our ac girl steals the ball from her opponent, she gives that ultra-triumphant(but not bitchy)-half-sneer-RIGHT-IN-YOUR-FACE,-Woman!-look ... that's the way mannn, send them home!"
yeah,
ecstacyfying entertainment, inculminating inspiration, sublimation of skill and superiority at the acme of AChampions performance.

wow.
it was a five-month infatuation. there are strings attached no more. strangely, it feels kinda good and bad at the same time. though i may regret saying this.

that player will be me

wow.
rule the court
the way to excel in a game is not to think about winning? to forget the pressure? rely on your basic instincts? what matters, is the passion. the fun. the hype. the thrill. the feeling of weightlessness. the intangible fatigue connected by an umblical cord to a rocky road of delightful pain. sadistic woes of watching your opponent give up haplessly.
it's not about the win. it's about the fun - it's about recalling that fragmental memory of your first time picking up the racquet and hitting the ball, when you care more about enjoying yourself rather than focusing on winning. if one can subtly activate that cognition to neutralize the fear and nervousness that triggers under tremendous anxiety of your opponent being able to return a ball which you can't take or mishit, he/she has truly overcome and surpassed his own limits - mastery finesse intertwined within pinnacles of perfection.

that player will be me =)

billie jean

WHAT THE...
sally: "anw. brian is a beautiful guy. he has got the prettiest eyelashes a guy will ever have. his eye lashes is even thicker than marcus, like as if gt mascara. im amazed!"

I HOPE TO GOD THAT'S A COMPLIMENT. I'M HAVING TROUBLE DEALING WITH THE WORD 'BEAUTIFUL'. ISN'T THAT EXQUISITE PIECE OF VOCABULARY ONLY, EXCLUSIVELY, RESERVED FOR, AHEM, MEMBERS OF THE OPPOSITE SEX.

if only she had phrased it this way - "anw. brian is a really masculine guy who has that ept touch of feminince accentuated in him the least obvious way. he has the most gazeful eyelashes a guy will ever have..." i would have felt better assured of my male-ridden humanity. to me, insecurity is a flaw of unspeakable boundaries.
but i'm kinda used to the long eyelashes thing already. haha. just the other day jyan passed me a rubber band to see if it could hang. gay!

wow.
friday night was a disastrous waste of eight dollars and an overestimation of ac's got talenttt. not in the position to elaborate, since i'm not much of a talenttime puppet myself, but i've gotta say, billie jean saved the day. i'm totally hooked on the song. michael jackson's the KOP. i love his high tenor threshold that makes patricksum's singing sound like wayward bass tones.

iron man is the bomb

wow.
for tonight, i shall write a simple-minded "what i did today" post.

today was funnn. didn't go to school in the morning. went to roxy square to get my hair cut instead. then waited an absurd 20mins for bus 14. slept throughout the whole ride to school. strolled in by the back gate, crossed oldham wing, and guess who's the first person i see? -the one i hope to dream of every night. walked into the voiddeck feeling hair conscious. bought a bottle of ice milo as usual, and proceeded to the library while waiting for physics tutorial to end before joining the rest of class for math lecture. first time i'd been to the library this whole term. the 'finally' fixed aircon felt good. a boring LT1 experience was followed up by econs tutorial. great laugh hearing hashimali telling himself to "chill, chill". lunch came, and i ate omelette w rice. for the 30th time already? wanted to eat chicken rice but jumped out of the queue after remembering that maggots were found in the chicken rice stall food recently and told my classmates(but that was after they had bought their meals already) and went on describing minute gory details to further WHET their appetite. lo and behold, i unknowingly knocked over my now-refilled-with-water-milobottle and clumsily spilled water everywhere. math lesson by sivam was heartfelt enlightening, so i feel guilty for trying to lie to her about a squash meeting after school to get early dismissal. actually i was rushing for the nonexistent 4.50 ironman show at cineleisure. resorted to taking cab, but turns out it was a total waste of money cos there was a 5.15 timing. still had a fantastic 5people og outing anyway. absolutely ownage show. can't wait for the sequel to come out. ended off with dinner at burger king. where we got free upsizes to our value meals courtesy of M1. unfortunately for me, or rather the person sitting across me, i knocked over my drink again, and this time it was sprite and all over her file. took bus 16 home with one of my ogmates. talked about everything under the moon on the way back. indulged in a munchy donut on the walk home. now i'm here at my computer typing out my stupid life story while there's chem assignment to be done. i feel like skipping school tomorrow, but simply can't miss the chance to take the 9.50 lift....

i hate blogging like that. it's simply retarded.

i bit my chin! ouch-

wow.
"people don't like to hear good feelings, they want to read about the gossipy bad stuff and the underlying disdain they hold for others".... fine, i shall bitch about someone.

here goes:-> omg. that idiot from my class thinks he's damn cool, everday blue slip here blue slip there, pon class like free, got time also don't wanna do pw, bloody hindrance to the group, fail all his tests but still try to act like some smart alec, everytime slack during pe while the rest has to wait in pushup position for him to get changed, has the personality of a cocky bastard, ego the size of acjc viceprincipal, talk also must talk like some big-ass hot shot(C'MON, who wants to hear about your loser lame life), put legs on table like chao-ahbeng, sleep during chinese lessons, spill water during lectures, try to be buddybuddy with everyone in class, suck up to teachers, sit on the pokey-fence trying to be a neutral party. hope his balls end up getting squished. he's just a two-faced attention-seeking scrawny-shit-chin-biting hypocrite la.

haha. i love talking about myself.

she

she;
makes me smile stupidly to myself
's the girl i can't look straight in the eye
enters my dreams as she likes
's got me feeling as though everything is right in the world
confunds me with an extrapolation of love alphabets
's what happens when music makes love with light
fills my life with colours
's the amplified version of "killing me softly"
completes me