Adventures in Sasa land

The Reason Why Malaysia Will Never Escape

2010-07-22T06:44:00.000-07:00

What why? Well, why Malaysia will never escape the grasp of being a Third World nation.

Starts off like this, I was sitting in the bus when in comes these two brats who not only smell like cigarettes, but were eating like pigs. McDonalds, I shall forever shudder in this memory of you filling the likes of them. They SMELT, WERE LOUD & were totally oblivious to the discomforts of others. (They were kicking my chair)

Now, I'm not going to stereotype anyone. As thus, I won't reveal their races. But these two individuals were none older than minors, at least.

So what occured today on the bus (please note that this is just one of the many reasons why I'd rather wait for the RapidKL U24 than sit in a Metrobus 191) was that these 'gaki' decided it was ok to use their 'vocabulary' on us.

I had had enough so I just leaned over to my companions Wing & Swee Yie and just vented my woes. I had not ( I stress, NOT) in anyway made it painfully obvious to them. I had spoken in Mandarin, averted my eyes away & just vented. I merely said it loud enough so that they might hear. I'd not thought they would comprehend.

Apparently they did.

They then retaliated with choiced Mandarin words, Cantonese and the occasional BM and stunted English. Oh Please! I could've countered in 4 languages if I wanted to. But as Swee Yie had kindly pointed out, we are Chinese. Our parents taught us well to do our race proud and to conduct ourselves in a proper manner in public. She was right. My parents did taught me well. So, I plugged in my earphones and took my book out to read. No more playing with the uncouth.

Hahaha.... They didn't get the memo. When they got off the bus, Wing & I unplugged our earphones and started talking to Swee Yie who'd had the unfortunate fortune of having no earplugs. Seems like someone SERIOUSLY had no lesson in manners from their parents.

It looked to be like those kids just didn't stop when we did. (Actually we stopped WAAAY long ago) They just kept cussing and cussing and cussing in their excruciatingly stunted comprehension of Mandarin, Cantonese & English. Using words that NORMAL EDUCATED people would shy from using in public, they just went on and on thinking that they were so great. How embarassing. For them.

Is 'What book are you read?' a proper grammatically correct sentence? No? Goes to show these numbskulls didn't study or rather never paid attention in class. What we regret most from the proceedings of this evening wasn't the fact we bumped into these sort of people. No. What we regret most is that we didn't manage to record their immature antics. Imagine that. It would've been a hit on the web. Youtube baby. Youtube.

When they had not spurn any reaction from us, they took to commenting about the book I was reading and generally making a total fool of themselves. Then, as they were disembarking, they decided to throw a 'Fuck You'.

I did not hear a single thing coz Super Junior, SHInee, auto Kratz & SJM were singing in my ears. But I did managed a totally big 'Thank God!' as they were leaving and a 'Bye Bastards' . Wanna know what's funny? Some random 3rd party person decides to join in something that HAD NO TOTAL CONCERN whatsoever to him. Kay Poh Chee much? He threw a 'Ah Moi why are you like that, bla bla, bloody bla.' Like I care LOSER.

So. Malaysia's going to the dogs. And it's not just coz of the political state of things. It's the youth. They aren't the first I've met who are like this and they certainly won't be the last. Parents not giving the proper lessons of fundamentals in being a proper decent human beings and Educational systems that aren't even stable. A big WHY is in order.

America might be a country riddled with violence, arrogance and issues. But they have the proper excuses. Why can't we be like the Koreans or the Japanese? Or even the Kiwis? Or the Aussies? Or the Singaporeans with their will to the be the best? It seems to me all the youth of Malaysia cares about is nothing at all. The don't even have the mindset of making their country proud or to portray a good image of their nation. So many horror stories, embarassing ones too that will make your toes cringe. Yet so little time.

I've seen too much. It breaks my heart to be saying this, but people, go to Sarawak. Even if we decide to get all bitchy at people, we do it properly. With a proper comprehension of the words we use.

I swear, I love this country. I'm not saying that citizens of the other states in Malaysia have a very bad attitude and portray bad images of our country. I'm just a proud Sarawakian. Proud Malaysian. But I certainly don't want to raise my child in here.

Pain.

2010-07-21T13:05:00.000-07:00

The bruises are yellowing up, covered up by the darks of new ones. There's blood so I think I might have bled. Somewhere. But the pain is nothing but a mere fuzz on the edges of my consciousness.

I think I might've broken something. You touch me like I'm about to break. I'm fine, really. I can make out the words you're throwing at him. Please don't 'coz it's my fault too. This is what happens when a tornado meets the volcano. We both have tempers. And sometimes... Sometimes it just escalates.

I can see a part of you die when he holds me and I let him. Not flinching, not running away. Not hiding. I look back at you with blood shot eyes and I smile. It's a real smile and you can see it. You wonder why you love me when all I want is pain.

This is love. The pain just makes it real.

I like the way it hurts

2010-07-21T12:38:00.000-07:00

I'm not looking at the empty beer cans
I'm not feeling the bruises
I'm not tasting the tears, the blood
I'm not breaking, not fragile
I'm not leaving, never leaving you

Take your hands off the doorknob
Throw your fist at the wall
Look at me
I said, Look At Me
I'm fine
I can take it

Maybe we're not as crazy as we seem
Maybe this is my fault
Maybe we just love the way we hurt
Maybe this is love
Maybe we just love it

Stand there and watch me cry
Hear me
I know you didn't mean it
I know you love me
I know we will do this again

It's ok
Put down the keys
Let me hold you
I won't tell anyone
No one will know
It's our secret, Hidden by the light

We can scratch, crawl, break, bite, punch
Love
We can look at each other cry
We can hurt each other
We can lie
To ourselves
To Everyone

I love you too much to walk away

You leave. Leaving. Left.

2010-07-04T07:14:00.000-07:00

A/N: I think everyone knows who I'm writing this about.

김영운, 당신을 사랑합니다... 자신을 벗어... 제가 2 년 동안 당신을 볼 수. 오빠, HWAITING! 내 가슴에 당신의 목소리를 개최합니다, 그리고 난 당신이 옆에 그것을 돌려 줘요. 내가 너무 힘들 때 우리가 작별 내일 말 울지 않으려고합니다. 약속... 그것은 단지 짧은 여행, 맞죠?

Steady hands pack the clothes; fold, roll, pack. No space for deliberation, it was as if he knew what he wanted and where he wanted it. He was going somewhere you cannot follow.

"Don't look at me like that. It's two years. I'll be back before you know it." He says, thumbing a line across your cheek. Two years. He'll be gone for two years. And yes, there'll be time for visits and what not, but it's not as if you could hold his hand in public, right? "It's not forever." He whispers, going back to what he was doing.

This is your last night together in a room, with a bed and he is fucking packing overalls. What is wrong with this picture?

You curl your toes, hearing the joints pop. Everything is wrong about this picture. It should be you doing the packing. Not him. So you grab his sleeve and pull him to you, cradling his form between your spread legs. Nuzzling into his chest, you sigh. You can feel his hand stroking your hair and his breath warm and minty in your ear. It's not going to be forever but it sure feels like it.

It's less than 12 hours now. You whisper in his ear what you want and watch a slow, slow smile curl on those lips just for you. It's just like back then. Only now, it's more bitter than sweet. When you stand in front of all those people, you can kiss him. When you cry tomorrow, you can't whisper like you do now. There are so many things to be said and so little time to say them all. Isn't it always?

You wish that the bruises and scars and bites will never fade from your body. Because it is what marks you as his. You wish that time would stop because damn you for being selfish, but all you want is a little more time with him. A little more, just a little more.

It's not the first time you don't want to see the sunrise.

{My 남편 is leaving tomorrow. And we won't see him for two years}

What they say

2010-06-25T04:17:00.000-07:00

{A continuation of a story I did last year. Check August 2009: Grief never lets you go. }

It's been almost a year. It's summer again. But the air will always feel cold. The heat no longer burns and the whole innocence of summer is no longer there. It's almost a year.

Could he really see me? Protect me from where he was? I don't know. I don't think I want to. But I can imagine it. Just like I can hear him every single morning since then. The way he would squint at my choice of lingerie for the day, the way he would laugh at my ridiculous attempts to smother down my bush of a hair, the way he would whisper, sing me to sleep. The counselors called it 'trauma', 'dealing with grief'. Fuck it, if I were to listen to them. He was there. Everyday.

I've taken down most of the things. The pictures, momentos, things that reminded me of him. I took down everything except for our wedding photo that I left on the kitchen countertop and the faded shot of our baby. The two things I could never bring myself to forget. The backyard is looking less like a jungle and more like a garden should. I had had to stay in the hotel for 3 days while they landscaped the place.

But this house is still made of empty bricks and hollow stones. It's too big. I've taken to looking at properties down by the quay. Nice apartments meant for one. His parents still visit now and then. His sister calls and we talk. But isn't it strange? I'm talking to people I'm no longer connected to in any way.

And there were those little things in between then and now. Christmas, birthdays, Valentines, anniversaries. They merely showed me what I'm missing. I got a dog. I called it Roo. It's a demanding thing, but it keeps me company and listens and watches me as I cry, tucking himself next to me as if he knew my grief.

I got a haircut 7 months after. It was pixie short and everyone says it looks good on me. But all I can see when I look in the mirror is how you'd sneak up on my and breathe in the scent of my hair and how you'd always love to stroke my hair and how'd you'd tell me that I looked beautiful in the mornings with my hair all over the place eventhough I know full well that I don't.

So one year. I survived one year. It's not easy. It still isn't easy. I don't think it ever will be.

Green teas and midnight whispers under my covers will leave us somewhere

2010-06-22T07:53:00.001-07:00

WARNING: NC-17, PG-13, 18SX and everything in between that says NOT FOR MINORS. Something we stopped being for quite some time already :D

These are three shorts that I wrote. The first and last was written in the middle of the night under the guiding light of my torchlight. The second was written over a cooling mug of Green Tea. So what do you guys think?

1. Rooftop hideouts

You find him sitting on the rooftop ledge and the wind is messing with his hair the way you know irks him to no end. But your heart hammers and skips a beat because you have never see anyone, anything this side of fucking beautiful.

You take the spot next to him; carefully sitting on the ledge that is a 4 stories' fall and follow his gaze out onto the sprawl of buildings that edge out to the sea. There are bruises and cuts on his hands and face and the one above his eye looks particularly nasty.

"Don't."

He says, effectively stopping you from reaching out to him. He doesn't even look at you. And you can't decide which is worse; the fact he won't accept your help or the fact that these injuries aren't there because of you.

You contemplate the answer as you watch the skies change from a light blue to a burst of red and gold. It's getting late. It's time to go. You cast a glance at him before getting up, brushing yourself down.

"Was it worth it?"

You say, the words coming out like a whisper. He doesn't answer. but merely stares straight ahead. You turn to go, wondering what to have for dinner. Whether your mother has made good of the promise of an apple pie for dessert.

"It was fucking worth it."

It so small. And yet it gets carried by the wind to where you stand in front of the stairwell door.

You feel your heart break five million ways.

2. Pretty dolls. Pretty dolls are always broken

It never gets easy. Even after all these years, he'd always find himself in the shadows of the alleyway retching up after. It comes with the job. Occupational hazard. Quote it and he's heard it all a thousand times before. But it never get easy.

It's always the young ones. The ones with stars in their eyes, sparkle in their smile, dreams in their hands. The ones with so much innocence and too much love to give. Only in the end will they find that the world will fuck you and leave you. The oldest rule of the game. It never changes. Even when the world does.

And they come to him.

The army of broken porcelain dolls. He's their fixer. He'll mend them and send them out again. To be broken again. They'll have thought he'd fixed their scars, but in reality he hides them with paint and glue and an illusion of a smile. The cracks are fine and unnoticeable in the light of the night, but they're always there. And they'll never leave.

Tonight, it was a pretty hazel eyed thing. She hadn't been broken-physically. She'd had had her crystal heart stolen. Fallen in love. He'd cringed, and felt a part of him die when she told him as he cradles her. Rule no. 1; Never fall in love.

They're all merely dolls. And dolls were meant to be pretty and emotionless and they were meant to always be shared with playmates. Dolls will always be meant to be played with.

He'd sent her away with a kiss knowing full well that the next time she comes around, there'll be black mascara tracks, and dulled hazel eyes. She'll be back with a shattered crystal heart for him to fix.

Then there were those dolls so broken up that he'd have sleepless night for weeks. Nightmares of their faces for months. These were the ones he couldn't save. These were the ones he'd cry for because there were none to cry for them. The ones he buries in cardboard boxes in the shadow of the moon because no one must see. No one will know.

Because they are the creatures of the night.

Because everyone always forgets a broken doll.

He's a broken doll himself. But he is a puppet with cut strings. There's no one there but the broken dolls. So he mends the dolls. Because he is one himself.

And maybe one day, one day someone will remember him.

********

{Okay. This one's a bit of erotica(?). I can't believe I actually used this word to describe something I wrote. To the knowing public, of course. Reader discretion is advised}

3. Stolen shadow moments

He kisses you hard as he runs calloused hands over your front. You've only got a few more minutes to make good of the favor you'd called upon. You lose all coherent thoughts when he bites ohjustrightthere.

He's the only who could turn you on this way, who can make you feel want-lust-need-love-pain-ache-desire-passion all at the same time and yet make you lose it all in a second. He is most definitely the one who makes you scream and moan and gasp and pant and scrape your nails hard down his back and dig your teeth into his nape. The only who wakes you up with kisses and a smile and lulls you to sleep with his voice in your ear.

Oh!

And when he does that thing with his tongue? Yeah. That one.

You come hard, fast and long, like it was your first time in someone's brother's room. But it feels ohsogood. So very good.

When your minutes are over, he places kisses over bare skin you have yet clothed. And when you step out to the public, there's that brush of his hand on your neck that tells you there's more to come.

{Ok. Whatcha think? Yes. I wrote an excerpt of pRon. Thoughts please. I can't have been all fail.}

It seems to be a plan, It seems to be a mapped out expanse

2010-06-19T22:23:00.000-07:00

The blood on the floor

2010-05-30T19:39:00.000-07:00

It bleed my heart to say this. And don't kill me Yunho-biased Cassies, I love our Leader-Oppa, but he should've stepped up and protected his family.

The thing about not having my mind

2010-05-03T10:19:00.001-07:00

Is that I think alot. And when I do, I think. Not just think think. I think. Like thinking sort of thinking. And thus, make no sense whatsoever to the average human mind. So when I was thinking today as I hung the freshly laundered clothes out to dry, it suddenly hit me; what's up with homophobia?

I know some of my mates would probably go "Oh man~ Not again...." But click the back button if you want to. I ain't stoppin you. I mean, c'mon! You're the one who decided to click and read in the first place so, (W) nitwit.

Oh, and to all those aunties, uncles, close minded (REALLY) and people who take the Bible word for word, you can leave too. This one isn't for your saintly untainted minds. i wouldn't want anyone to have to sue me or claim I put them in a confession booth because of what I wrote. By the way, if you don't have something constructive to say about this, don't bother. I'll just delete your comments anyway. Or better yet, put it down like a Homunculus under my feet.

Anyone who claims they know me should know that I support LGBT. I support them with every bit in me. Coming back to my thinking, I was pondering about how maleXmale relationships were accepted in the olden days and yet, with modernization, it becomes a filthy thing that needs to be avoided with every fiber of our being. Back then, men with high social standings (i.e Kings, members of the court, government officials.... etc.) kept not only women as bedfellows, but men as well.

Argue No if you must, but look at this way. How many times in history can you find stories of royalty (especially true in terms of European royalty) being smitten by their own sex? I mean, look at Ludwig of Austria. The poor fellow was probably demented from all the closet hiding. By the way, he kicked it around the same time his physician did; at a lake near the castle. Rumor has it that the king was besotted by his handsome McDreamy and that the lovers spat by the lake had escalated into something more. Don't believe me? There's a thing called Google.

Okay, at the rate my brain is going, I can't research and soundly prove myself to you. But what I'm saying is true. Back then, people couldn't be bothered whether you were straight, narrow or winding. Somehow along the way, we got the message that love between two human beings, with differences of gender, background, religion was wrong and bad.

Yeah, yeah... quote the Bible. BUT, i'll refute you if I have to.

So, am I betraying God? Am I going against His words? God is love. No matter how you look at it, He is love. Everyone should have an Alex Sanchez. Then those gay teen suicide rates wouldn't be so high. Then those gay bashings would never have to happen. Then families wouldn't be torn apart. The world is a cruel, cold and hard place as it is. Shouldn't we encourage love instead of shooting down the next LGBT? I don't know about you, but I personally wouldn't want my children to be brought up in an environment where they are influenced to think, "Okay, mummy and daddy can love each other, but daddy can't love another man and mummy can't marry another mummy."

Big question people, Lasik surgery; Ok. Plastic surgery, Ok. Being Gay? Not OK. You tell me, which one of the three are going against God's creation? Think people, think.

TBC because this shit never ends.

The midnight bats

2010-04-22T10:53:00.000-07:00

I added (on Twitter) official accounts:-

Suju-Sungmin, Donghae, Siwon, Heechul, Shindong

2PM-Nickhun

And Mein Kinder.....

With Misha Collins, Jim Beaver in tow. And that dude who plays Ash on SPN-S2. He doesn't really likee SPN-S5.... I can see why.

Do celebs really read what we write to them? =O

So what?

2010-04-21T08:12:00.001-07:00

So I finally decided to be active on Tweeter. Bite me. I wasn't conforming to any rats Ass. Haven't written Jack in a long time. Maybe I should pick up the pen again? IDEK.

It feels good to be back in Kuching, but I'm being constantly reminded of WHY I left in the first place. Miss Mein Kinder back in KL and all of where they are from. Miss them SOO MUCH!!

Anyone with Tweeter reading this? @miss_randomness Because I'm a sad sad person leading a sad sad life. And I want followers. =D

Ianto cycle Part2

2010-03-27T08:46:00.000-07:00

I MISS MY LOVES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know I sound very 'gan you' and very 'yen chung'.

But Do I Look As If I Give An Ounce Of F**k?

I want my Teukie Teukie, Siwonnie, Heenim, Minnie, Hyukjae, Fishy, Big Head, Wookie, Bummie, HANKYUNG, Dongie, Kyu, Kangin (though I don't fancy the last one that much.... But what the heck? I luffles all of my loves) Zhoumi and baby Henry. Around this time exactly a week ago, I was sniffing into my SS2 towel, croaking away with my screamed-hoarse voice in a cab with Super Ah Wing.

The taxi driver was driving fast for us. Probably scared that he was carrying some random escapees from Tanjung Rambutan/ Green Hill/ Batu 7. Or maybe Batu 5. Who knows. But we were croaking out some names and crying over something about the SS2 concert.

I don't care if it's 15 or 13, as long as all of them are together. SM 'pein tai'.

I ♥ SuJu. I'm not an E.L.F, but I'm a fan. A fan of my loves. Oh. And I'm Mrs. Park Jung Soo. Bite me Haters.

The concert last week, if I were to sum it up in three words: Depressing Exhilarating Breathtaking

More on the shit when I can finally visit my memories without the dull pain in my chest and the heart wrench of longing.

A little hooha and a more roora

2010-02-09T09:08:00.000-08:00

Had a little bit of fun on this page. [http://www.morphthing.com/image/21537813-hero21-jpg-U-know1-jpg?key=e11bfee8b9ef68191b68a132a123c73f]

Morphed this pics....

That turned into this pic.

Yunjae love child! XD

OMFG SUPER SPAZZTASTIC MOMENT AND DIEZ

2010-02-03T07:04:00.000-08:00

http://www.junkonline.net/articles/2675-By-Demand-Kings-Of-Convenience-LIVE-in-Malaysia-2010

OMG THEY'RE COMING!!!! THEY'RE ACTUALLY COMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Must. Remember. To. Breathe. BREATHE.

My most ultimate favourite duo is coming to Malaysia. This will be THE thing I will regret for the rest of my existence is if I do NOT go. I MUST GO!!!!!! Words alone cannot describe the level of fangirly-ness that is happening.

Chances of being in the presence of the awesomeness that is DBSK?: NA-DA.

That is why I have to see my baby Erlend and Eirik. And hear their beautiful angelic harmonies whilst listening to the sweet pluckings of guitar chords. 2010 is already sucky enough with the looming dark cloud over the Cassiopeians and the international netizens. This is probably the highlight of the entire YEAR for me.

MUST ALSO FIND OUT WHEN IS RELEASE DATE FOR HEAVEN'S POSTMAN FILM OR DVD. Priority?: Not as important as KINGS OF CONVENIENCE COMING TO MALAYSIA!!!!!!

I have no doubt I shall spend the rest of tonight plotting my evil scheme to meet them. Had already asked Dad whether I can go. He's cool with it. Next hurdle: Mum.

God help me.

I WANT MY BLEEDING PILLOW THAT I HAD TO LEAVE BEHIND

2010-01-28T18:46:00.000-08:00

Expect a rant.

0530- Woke up, got ready called a cab for 0645. Was told to wait for confirmation. Stupid taxi fares.

0615- Taxi co. said no cab in the vicinity. Again stupid taxi thingy ma jiggy.

0630- called them again. No cabs still.

0702- Packed in final stuff and begin dragging bag outside. Stef called and begin frantic spazzing tirade with her. She was the one who'd accompanied me till almost about 0300 because I couldn't sleep. Am turning into a total Morticia.

0730- Finally got on a bus. Got to LRT station. There was this kid not more than 13, who'd offered to help me. God bless him. Super skinny, totally would've broken his bone if he'd attempted carrying my bag.

0747- On the way to KL Sentral. Standing in a cramped train with something rubbing against my side. A silent torture. Mode of distraction. Repeating Emily Bronte's Love and Friendship over and over again.

0810- Got down to the waiting area for the KLIA Transit. Got an entire seating area to myself. Awesomeness. Wanted to sleep on the train. It was rocking ever so slightly like a mother lulling her child to slumber. But NO. Stupid freaking body alarm shit had to freaking keep me conscious.

0857- Reached KLIA. Found a place to sit and eat. The simple apple danish was 8.90. 8.90!!!!!!!!!!

0931- Ambling around KLIA when news came over the com that flight got cancelled and postponed to 1400. -Insert choiced expletives-

1037- At McD's. Onlining. Got a free lunch voucher thing which I highly doubt I'm gonna use. Stupid flight getting delayed.

To be continued. The continuous flow of warm tea had slightly left me in a happy buzz and seeking the nearest toilet and a nice bench. FML. Double Triple FML.

Oh for the love of my kolo mee!! I shall prevail. *determined* *determined*

Letters to my heart 4

2010-01-13T22:23:00.000-08:00

Dear Rachel @ Rachel Roxie @ George @ Mei @ Whatever the hell it is you call yourself these days,

You are my bestest best friend in the whole wide world. Never forget that. Growing up, we were forced to improvise because we were the only two children in a house of people in their golden years. Thus, we had to rely heavily on Barbie dolls, books, Lego, Happy Meal toys. Imagination and improvision was what, and is still what we are most best at.

Being you older sister has taught me alot. I had to, first and foremost, think about you in whatever I am doing. Will it affect you? Will you be jealous if I were to buy a particular shirt that you would most likely like as well? A million questions but soo little answers. I remember those days we begrudgingly cooperated so that when mum got home, she wouldn't take out on us. It was our way of survival. It was the only way we got through.

I can't say I remember much of our childhood. I fucking hated it as you well know. It was seriously fucked up. I knew things that you didn't and those things were blisteringly clear to me, but non-existent to you. Because you were my little sister. I had to shield you from all the burdens that I, as your older sister had to carry. I don't deny it. I suffer from self-induced amnesia of those days. But I remember you most. My constant companion amongst the bitterness. Your first day into Primary school... God! I was trying super hard not to cry that day. Though I was happy that you would be joining me in this new adventurous foray into the unknown, I knew then, at the age of 9, that you were no longer little. You looked spiffy in your hand me down uniform and you looked positively adorable. In the years that followed, every time you tried to hug me or kiss me in school, I would push you away. I wish hadn't. Because now I want a little lovin and you won't give me no more!! (Look at my D face. D:) You're turning 17 in a few days. Soon, you'll follow me into the college life; full of hedonistic funtastic crazy boundless endless potentials. My... How time flies. You're taller than me now.

I know you felt abandoned the day I left for KL. I'm sorry, love. If I had a reason to stay in Kuching, it was you.. But I can't. You know very well as I do why. You never know, but I was trying my best not to cry when you were choking me half to death with you shit-inducing hug. When I got pass the immigration counter, it felt like I was leaving a part of me behind. You'll always have a piece of my heart in your hands, Georgie. Please don't break it.

But always remember this. I love you. No matter how my life turns out, no matter how far I go, no matter where life takes me, no matter who I become at the end of the day. I love you and I want you to know that whatever you choose to do with your life, I'll always be there for you. I'll play the little roles and the big roles for you. You'll always be MY little sister and no one can ever take that away from you or me.

Love always,
Charissa @ Charie @ Fred @ Chey @ Jgabrielle @ Whatever I turn into by midnight.

The Chicken

2010-01-05T01:54:00.000-08:00

Dedicated to the one and only Abultra. You are the chicken of my life.

The Chicken
by Jgabrielle

There's a chicken
In my basement
There's a chicken
Living there
There's a chicken
In a cardboard box
And I don't know
Who put it there

There's a chicken
In my basement
There's a chicken
Clucking away
There's a chicken
Somehow eating
The feeds I left for
My hamster Carol

There's a chicken
In my basement
There's a chicken
Scratching away
There's a chicken
It's not happy
I think I have to
Let it out.

For Becca, Lola, B and Mel.

2009-11-24T01:37:00.000-08:00

This is it. Please respect this poster and do not read unless you are Becca, Lola, B and Mel. This is some serious 30 ringgit pRon.

I wonder how you would look with your hair fanned out on silken sheets. I know if you were in that position under me, I would steal your kisses and bruise your lips. I will tangle my fingers in your hair, massage your scalp and mark your neck. I would nibble on your earlobe. I promise I won't bite.

I always thought about how you would feel under my hands. Would your skin be as soft as it seems to me now? Would your touch be like a searing hot poker on my skin or would you be cold to the touch? Will your cheeks be flushed and your eyes darkened and clouded over with lust? Would your impossibly long lashes flutter and cast shadows on your cheeks?

I want to hear your voice then. I want to know how you like it when I move against you. I want to feel your moans as they vibrate throughout your body, I want to take you in me and put my mouth wherever you want me to. I want to map out every curve, I want to memorize every look, I want to kiss away any trace of tears, I want to make you writhe, I want to make you scream, I want to hear the sounds that you will make for me and only me, I want to make you dig your nails into me until they form angry red crescents on my skin, I want to make you hold on tight and never let go.

The silk sheets will be the finest from India. I am sure the jet black sheen will cling to you and I on our sweat slicked skin. You would look like a long forgotten goddess of pleasure with your hair unkempt, your flushed cheeks and your sinfully red swollen lips. I will revel in it, before stealing another kiss because I can't help myself.

I wonder if you'll call out my name. Or would it be the name of another? I don't know. And frankly, I couldn't be bothered. You're my little plaything now. I will worship every inch of you, make you feel things you never thought you could, make you aware of the places of your body you never knew were there before. The kiss that I steal this time, I want to make you feel it to the depths of your bones, make you remember it when you wake in the morning and make you taste it in every apple you bite.

Just as you come, I will mark your skin and observe the dark bloom on an unblemished landscape. You would probably turn your face away, but I will reassure you that no sin has been committed. Even if there was, I would do it all over again if it is the means to have you here this way again.

I will link my hands with yours and kiss your knuckles. As we fall into sleep's embrace, I will breath you in deep. You are my drug. The one thing I will never get enough of. I will plant soft kisses once more as your eyes draw close. Sleep. I would smile and move to embrace you. Just as the sun begins to shine, I will paint a picture of your sleeping face in the attic of my mind. Where it will remain forever.

Songs About You and Songs About Me

2009-11-06T08:46:00.000-08:00

Just like the Soundtrack game, this one is about random actors/characters from favourite shows/singers/any random person/favourite former pets that are dead or alive or missing. Feel free to add/delete and/ change. The songs are just something random about the particular person. Once tagged, write your own list, tag the person who was evil enough to tag you.
I'll start.

1.Laura
Simple Plan-Welcome to my life (I have no idea why...)

2.Abby
June-Pride of tomorrow

3.Mel
Phoenix-1901 (The song that never got played! XD)

4.Becca
Westlife-My girl

5.Jensen Ackles
Gypsy Woman-Hilary Duff (I was probably thinking about his sl- I mean his artificially busted girlfriend)

6.Jared Padalecki
Justin Timberlake-My love (Very fitting!)

7.Russel
Bloc Party-Like Eating Glass

8.Raymundo
Taylor Swift-Should've Said No

9.Elly Jackson
French Horn Rebellion-Broken Heart

10.John Simms
Nelly Furtado feat. Timbaland-Promiscous

11.Mika
Westlife-Nothing is Impossible (What the Feck???)

12.Gareth David-Lloyd
Colbie Cailet-Realize (I don't know whether to cheer for joy or raise an eyebrow in confusion)

13.John Barrowman
Jon McLaughlin-Beating My Heart

14.Katie McGrath
Phoenix-Rome

15.Colin Morgan
All American Rejects-The Wind Blows

16.Bradley James
Westlife-Mandy (I have no comment)

17.David Tenant
A1-Take on me

18.My Georgie
Westlife-Don't Say It's Too Late (Is it too late?)

19.Joseph Gordon-Levitt
Metro Station-Tell me what to do (OH YEAH!)

20.Alan Rickman
Teddy Geiger-Possibilities

21.Aazean Aida
Blue-You make me wanna (00)

22.David Archuleta
Carpenters-We've only just begun

23.My dog, Nigel
Kings of Convenience-Stay ou of trouble

IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?

2009-11-06T08:23:00.002-08:00

So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend your cool... and alot of the songs fit with the setting (sometimes in a very creepy way)
7.Once you've been tagged, make your own soundtrack list, randomly tag people and tag the person who tagged you. If you've been tagged before, well, DO ANOTHER ONE!

Opening Credits:
Ben Foster- I can run forever (OST-Torchwood:COE)

Waking Up:
ABBA-Chiquitita

First Day At School:
The Mamas and The Papas-Dream a little dream of me

Falling In Love:
Henri Salvador-La Muraille De Chine

Fight Song:
Colbie Cailet-Magic (I don't really think this is particularly accurate though)

Breaking Up:
Kesabian-Processed Beats

Prom night:
Ben Foster-Judgement Day

Life:
Lady Gaga-Brown Eyes

Mental Breakdown:
Sally Shapiro-Dying in Africa (not the breakdown I was imagining)

Driving:
SID-Monochrome no Kiss

Flashback:
Henri Salvador-Jardin d'Hiver

Getting back together:
Best I Ever Had (Grey Sky Morning)-Vertical Horizon (very very true!!)

Wedding:
Metro Station-Seventeen Forever [Acoustic] (errrr..... sweat?)

Birth of Child:
Westlife-Have you ever been in love

Final Battle:
La Roux-I'm not your toy (FINALLY!!! A La Roux.)

Funeral Song:
The Corrs-Summer Sunshine (My shuffle function is shit)

Final Credits:
Tommy February6-Lonely in Gorgeous

IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?

2009-11-06T08:23:00.001-08:00

IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?

2009-11-06T08:23:00.000-08:00

So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend your cool... and alot of the songs fit with the setting (sometimes in a very creepy way)
7.Once you've been tagged, make your own soundtrack list and tag the person who tagged you. If you've been tagged before, well, DO ANOTHER ONE!

Opening Credits:
Ben Foster- I can run forever (OST-Torchwood:COE)

Waking Up:
ABBA-Chiquitita

First Day At School:
The Mamas and The Papas-Dream a little dream of me

Falling In Love:
Henri Salvador-La Muraille De Chine

Fight Song:
Colbie Cailet-Magic (I don't really think this is particularly accurate though)

Breaking Up:
Kesabian-Processed Beats

Prom night:
Ben Foster-Judgement Day

Life:
Lady Gaga-Brown Eyes

Mental Breakdown:
Sally Shapiro-Dying in Africa (not the breakdown I was imagining)

Driving:
SID-Monochrome no Kiss

Flashback:
Henri Salvador-Jardin d'Hiver

Getting back together:
Best I Ever Had (Grey Sky Morning)-Vertical Horizon (very very true!!)

Wedding:
Metro Station-Seventeen Forever [Acoustic] (errrr..... sweat?)

Birth of Child:
Westlife-Have you ever been in love

Final Battle:
La Roux-I'm not your toy (FINALLY!!! A La Roux.)

Funeral Song:
The Corrs-Summer Sunshine (My shuffle function is shit)

Final Credits:
Tommy February6-Lonely in Gorgeous

Mika Girls

2009-10-30T03:38:00.000-07:00

We're the Mika Girls
And we never stop
Hyper super balls of energy
We're who we are
Wear our favourite clothes
Who gives a fuck?
Lets speak French
Just because we can

Wear the bright red shoes
Wear the purple ribbon
Wear the colours of the rainbow
Wear the colours of your heart
Because colourful are us

They can see us coming
Singing to his voice in the radio
His words are our emotions
Oh! The beauty that is he
We'd smile even if it was a bad day

Don't ever spend too much on life's comforts
Heed what she says
Wear our hearts on our sleeves
Write the words in a streaming flow
Does it matter that we're camp?
Why do you give a shit anyways?
Our sexuality in question
Will be ours alone

But above all
We're unique
We're relaxed
We're enigmas
We're confident
We're loud
We're proud
We're Mika Girls!!

Regrets are stab wounds in your chest

2009-10-27T06:52:00.000-07:00

I take out the old photo album in the drawer. I hadn't realised it was there, but it is. I turn the pages, smile, grimace and laugh quietly at our frozen expressions. They could've never seperated us even if they wanted to.

I've always love you, you know?

But I guess you don't.

It's better this way. You're with her now. I should be happy for you as we'd promised each other to be when we found another. But I'm not. And I never will be. I guess I deserved it, after the things I put you through. But I still want you here. Still want to run my fingers through your hair. Still want your lips on mine. Still want your hand in mine. Still want you. I'll never tell you this, but I wanted forever with you. Even if it was wrong. Even if I go to Hell for this love, I wanted it. So bad.

I wanted to stay with you forever. I wanted to have kids with you. Wanted to see them run around in our backyard. Wanted to see them grow and have children of their own. Wanted to let our family be an example of what we could be. I wanted so much! If you'd had wanted the moon, I'd have had lassoed it and pulled it near for you. I would turn my back on the world, if it meant having you.

But it's too late now isn't it? Those things will only be mere wishes, mere writings in the sand.

Know this though. I love you. always have. You'll always be my first. I'll try to love again. This time for the sake of happiness. I'll try to be happy for you. God knows it'll be hard, but I'll try. For you.

Dancing in the rain

2009-10-26T07:27:00.000-07:00

Beautiful. It was the only word that could justify the angel in my arms. When did I get so lucky?

She twirls away from my grasp like the wind- there, tangible but never yours. Smiling, her grey eyes seem to sparkle as they beckoned me to follow. And follow, I did. Her laughter is like the sweet chime of crystal glasses. It cuts through the cold drizzle that we were in. I did not care much for the cold droplets on my skin, my hair and my clothes. In fact, I would very much prefer the warmth of the house and the linens of my bed to this. But she is here, so I must be too.

She eludes me, turning away and flitting from my fingertips. Her white dress is getting drenched more and more by the passing minute. I'm determined to get her inside with me. She laughs as I stumble on a pebble. I swear. She must've been a wood maiden in one of her lifetimes. Even in the dim stormy light, I could see that her cheeks were alive with colour and her eyes wide with excitement. How could I ever deny her the simple pleasure of the rain now?

Soon, I run out of breath. I stop. Lean forward with my hands on my lap, gasping for breath. She runs ahead and then stops. I could see her emotions going from happy mischievousness to curiousness to worry. She approaches me slowly, that is when I pounce.

"Gotcha!" I cried out laughing, tumbling onto the wet grass with her squealing in my arms. We lay there, with the rain in our face and the wet coldness of the grass seeping into our back. At least mine. Soon she ceased her struggles and merely rolled over in my arms and lay with her head on my chest tucked under my chin, listening to the rapid beats of my heart. I run my hand through her damp curls. It was a subconscious thing that I do when she is in my arms. I lean forward to breathe in her. Her sweet scent that was tinged with the rain and earth. I could never get enough of her. "Beautiful." I whispered as she tilts her head up and smiles at me.

"Beautiful." I whisper again. I turn her over, so that I was the one on the top instead of her. I whisper again and again and again and again. Kissing every single part of her cold pale skin as a punctuation. My angel trembled in my ministrations. It made me want her more. I move my hand southwards, looking up to her face for confirmation. She merely pulls me down and runs her long fingers through my hair.

"Please."

I grinned.....

"Wake up little brother!"

My overtly enthusiastic excuse of an older brother wakes me up with a swift hit of the pillow on my head. "Ow. That hurt." I muttered rolling to my side. The bright morning sunshine assaulted my eyes, nearly blinding them.

"WHOA~"

I frowned to see what the comment was about this time to see little John tenting up my trousers. My eyes widened in horror and looked up just to see the evil glint in my brother's eye as he skipped out of the door.

"MOTHER! FATHER! GUESS WHO HAD A WET DREAM LAST NIGHT!"

Oh god. Kill me now.

Observations of a very observational bored student

2009-10-14T06:11:00.000-07:00

"Holyshit!" Laura wrote, passing the yellow Memo Pad to the girl on her left. Her friend laughs. The lady in front is too enthusiastic and this annoys the shit out of her.

The whole row of friends can't wait to get out of the current hell-hole they were in. Rebecca was sitting in the corner, leaning on her arms and then leaning back up again. She's struggling to concentrate and the same goes for Abigail who is stretching out like a cat next to her. Charissa is leaning back in her chair with a hand on her belly. She's pregnant with the Food Baby. Laura, the Memo girl, leans on her folded arms on the desk. Melissa has been exchanging notes with Charissa on a new fanfic, but that was all.

Everyone looks at each other and catches each others' eyes. Grinning resignedly, they know there was more than 2 hours to go. "20 thousand per month?? Holy Crap!" Laura looks over and exclaims. The corners of Charissa's lips merely twitches in mock humor. This was going to be a long, long, loooong class. Looking over, she sees Rebecca and Abigail settling in for the long haul.

Returning from their 'trip' to the toilet, the girls feel refreshed. At least, they have returned with a new sunk dread of the coming hour. They have not returned empty handed. Abby and Charie have had bought drinks each - passion fruit and green apple respectively. They, Laura and Becca have bought their Tamadun Islam textbook. Not like they had a choice.

Raymund begins to explain how iPod exploited his life. The teacher cuts in. Everyone can't makes a rat's ass of a sense of what he's saying but it seems very funny to Laura and Charie as they dissolve into fits of giggles at one look at each other.

As Mel writes her fanfic in progress, the dark curtains of her hair obscures her expressions from the others. Her pen works its way smoothly over the paper.

The phlegm chooses its debut just as Jee begins to speak with his trademark "Ah..." Sounded a lot more like "Arhk." He always sounds like he has a constant nasal infection for his voice. The girls couldn't hear a shit of what was being said.

Abby didn't understand why they had to elaborate on their examples. Rebecca and Charie echoed the statement. Laura has decided to talk on her music while Charie, her fanficiton. An hour more to go. Oh God, someone pass the gun.

Another 20 minutes to the next break and Charie decided if the inspiration keeps hitting, she'll publish a book called 'Inspirations of the Uninspired'.

Abby mouths a 'What's she talking about?' Charie merely shrugs as the lecturer deviates from what she was talking about 4 minutes prior. She's going 'what the hell?' because the lady has skipped right through to them.

Laura stares at the florescent fixture like a fly. It couldn't be more obvious to how she was feeling. Even a blind man could feel the waves being emitted. Rebecca has been messaging her friend and has gotten a reply, "Go fart in her face la." Her friend owns.

It was very rare to see Jee smile. And when he did, it usually was, no, always is very very unsettling. He was smiling the entire time Mel was in close proximity with him. The stalker.

The strange thing about this whole shit was the fact that every class that was interesting to the rest of the class was a bore to Jee. And whatever was interesting to the Jee would be everyone else's idea of a personal hell.

Laura silently leans over a cheers "Half-an hour more!" The Food Baby flips and kicks in joy.

Mel grins and whispers "10 minutes more!" The baby is bursting the seams.

No one understands any part of the shitty fuck that's being said. Ai Xin looks at the lady with a frown etched upon her face. That in itself is an indication to how much everyone - except Jee is going to enjoy this class in the four months to come. The lady does not make a shit of sense. She makes even less sense than crack on crack. The explanation that could've been a simple ABC has turned into a ADFZH. Charie is not upset that she has been beaten in the rankings of Super Hyper Energizer Bunny. The lady can have it for all she cared. It's already 5 p.m.

So, WHY THE HELL ARE WE STILL HERE?????????????????????????????????????

Death by Sweetness

2009-09-09T12:05:00.000-07:00

WARNING: CONTAINS THE MORBID THOUGHTS OF A VERY STRESSED OUT, INSOMNIA-RIDDEN AUTHORESS WHO JUST NEEDS TO VENT AND THUS RESULTING IN VERY COLOURFUL(swear) WORDS . NOT FOR MINORS AND DEFINITELY NOT FOR THOSE UNACQUAINTED WITH ME.
Kee-pish? Right. Let the ball roll. You have been warned.

Oh. And don't think to steal my ideas. 'Coz I'll hunt you down and rip you apart from the bottom up. Slowly. I'll make sure that the next time you pee, it'll be from your mouth. And I'll remind you of how many bones there actually are in your body. =)

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ahh.. Bliss.

I tilt my head back, savouring the combination of heat and sweetness assaulting my oral cavity. It was sooooo good. It was from the last tea bag and I sure as hell was going to enjoy it.

I'd shovelled (yes, shovelled) sugar into the dark amber liquid, watching the glistening condiments dissolve and sink to the depths of the stained mug between my burning palms. I'm upset. This is how I calm myself. The only way, actually. Thank God for tea! If there could've been an ideal way for me to disappear off this place, this would be the first way I'd opt for-drinking sweet tea to my death. The papers can call it, 'death from a cup'.

"Fuck off Hark." I didn't have to turn to know that he was standing at the door watching me the whole time. I gave him a sideways glance. A college triathelete,he was the peak and epitome of the kind of fit that was firm but not overly muscular. That and the fact he had sapphire chips in his eye, an easy, open and utterly disarming smile made all the girls on campus want to sling their underwear at him. Even the dykes. We were complete opposites of each other. He was the college prince while I was the girl in the background, the extra whose screen time was numbered. "Well?" I turned to glare at him properly. "What the hell are ya still standing there-" He merely grinned and held his hands up.

"Just wanted to,you know, check."

"If I was still alive? If I hadn't pulled the trigger and offed myself?" I laughed mirthlessly. "Trust me. I would if I could, but it seems to be I'm not the only trigger happy nutter in this place. Jumping off the ledge just doesn't sound as appealing once you know you can survive it from this height." I pause to let myself take another sip. "God knows I've tried the pills route." I grimaced. That had been most unpleasant to get out of my system. "I'd like a quick, remotely unpainful death so wrist slashing is a no go." I pause again. "Though drowning is still an option seeing that I can't swim...."

"So you're going to drink yourself to death?" Hark asked as he plopped down on my bed.

I scowled. "I'll have you know that this is just tea and nothing dodgy." He grinned. Chuckling, he threw his head back. Running a hand through his dark strands he merely watched as I ignored him and continued my savouring.

"How many times have you tried to off yourself?"

I chose to place the mug on my desk and went over to sit next to him on the bed. "Wouldn't you like to know?" I hugged my pillow tightly. Hark was the only one besides Galina that I can talk to without the urge to hurl myself out the the window. He was probably one of the few that I can talk to about myself without lying or exaggeration. One of the few who've been there when I called in ungodly hours as I lay swinging between the beckoning darkness of my mind and the cold icy floor.

I can tell Hark about the previous attempts without having to deal with the shirking in horror, gaping like a gold-fish, tears in their eyes, telling me that they're sorry bullshit crap.

Yeah right, fuckers! You don't even know the 'me' that exists in here.

We let the silence blanket us, choosing instead to bask in the late September sun. "It's been three times. The serious ones at least." My laughter was muffled by the pillow. "Pathethic right? I tried three times to end my life and all of them never worked. I'm still here. I'm still breathing. What sort of person fails to end their life in the three times that they try?" I laugh again, burying my head in my pillow this time. "I'm so fucking messed up."

Hark didn't say anything. He only tilted my face towards and lean in to smother my lips with a chaste kiss. I reciprocrated by cupping his cheeks and deepening the contact. He was a good kisser. But he sure as hell needed more practice with a girl. We were drawn apart by the insane urge to breath. Sitting with our noses touching, he looks at me and I, him. We last mere seconds before the giggles consume us.

I reached over for the mug, only to have him beat me to it and drink it all in one gulp. "Oi! You oaf!" I swatted him. "You just botched my suicide attempt!"

The oaf in question merely raised an eyebrow, but said naught. He opted to steal another kiss and pick away at the first of the buttons. I let his dexterous fingers work their way down my blouse. He whispered at my ear just as he moves me to lie on the bed, "Hell, Mae.. If you're going down, try and take me with you, will ya?"

"Why?" I whispered back, matching his tone as I nipped at the soft flesh of his nape.

"'Coz it's a fucked up world and we're both fucked up people that everyone just doesn't get and never will." He smiles and plants a soft kiss on the side of my face. I can feel the warmth of his breath and the quickening of his breath and pace of his heartbeat. I feel him push at my nether regions, he kisses me again and relax to let him in. " 'Sides," His breath hitched a little. "Wouldn't want you to go down alone."

I smirk against the fabric of his shirt as I push it off his shoulder. "How kind of you." I ran my fingers through his hair. God! I loved his hair. "But I'll die the way I want to." I push him off me. "Be it with company or not." Feeling a smile on my lips, I slowly traced his features and drew a line on his torso with my finger. Drinking in the sight of him over me in the golden sunlight, I drew him in for a kiss. "Anyways, my girlfriend wouldn't be too happy if she knew I chose to take her little brother instead of her." It was true. Galina would make sure that I won't rest in peace.

He laughs against my skin. "But it'll be pleasurable though." That, I had to agree with.

Dear to whoever you think you are but don't think (starts with a 432201)

2009-08-17T05:31:00.000-07:00

How are you? I saw you just now and I must say, you look like you're doing fine... What are you doing now? Knowing you, it'd probably be something to do with art and stuff. You always gad a flair for it. You always were the best.

How long have we been fighting this way? I can hardly remember the times when we didn't. You were always cruel, but I guess I wasn't any different. You probably would never chance upon this, but there is a tiny part in me that hopes you do. Oh, I really hope you do.

I don't know why I'm writing this, I guess I must be feeling rather sentimental. Or some sort of emotion, but I just wanted to say, I'm sorry. For what it's worth, I truly am. I know this is late and it probably counts for nothing, but I am. I don't expect you to understand why I am doing this, don't expect anything from you, even.

Maybe I've grown to hate what we've both become. Why did we let things escalate to the degree that they were? Maybe you still think of me in that same dark light, but I am. Truly sorry. Can we start over? But I already know the answer that you havn't spoken.

Grief never lets you go

2009-08-10T23:58:00.000-07:00

It's better now. You get up everyday, every morning, stumbling across the cold floor to the kitchen to fix breakfast. You consider moving out of this house since it's only you now. There's no one else. Your family and your friends call you, automatically every morning. For whatever reason it may be, you are glad. They are the only constant thing left in this world of silence.

The backyard needs tending to. But you can't bring yourself to do it. You just can't. The coffee you make is atrocious. It tastes like water remaining after you boiled socks. The closets are still a pile. Everything was the way it was before. You get calls to leave the house. Take a walk. A vacation maybe? No. You can't leave. You can't let go. Not yet.

You go to work. Everyone treads on eggshells around you. Like you are something fragile. Breakable. It's been a month and you are still wearing black.

Home is nothing but an empty block of metal, brick and concrete. It holds no meaning for you. They stop by, now and then. Dropping meals, flowers and groceries. In a way, you are thankful for them. but you just wish that they'd leave you alone. The pictures adorning the shelves, fireplace, fridge door and walls are all unwanted reminders. But you don't have the heart to take them down. Because if you do, you might forget. And you don't want to forget.

Last night, when you were scavenging through the freezer for some microwavable dinner, you saw it on the corner of your eye. A grainy picture of the baby that was in your womb. You swallowed down the bile. You lost it too. Just as you'd lost him. A wave of pain washes over you and claims your entire being. It's like liquid fire coursing through your veins, burning through everything. You feel like every breath is a arduous labour. You curl up on the kitchen floor and cry.

Later, when the bout is over, another begins when you watch old videos of him and you. You hold onto the pillow and begin again. As you succumb to the darkness of sleep when your tears have exhausted you, you could almost hear his voice.

"It'll be better."

Sometimes

2009-08-06T10:16:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the tears still fall
Sometimes, late at night when I catch a whiff of your scent on the pillow,
Sometimes when the radio plays our song,
that Tim McGraw song,
Sometimes when the days are hard and long,
And all I want is your smile and your arms around me,
Sometimes when I'm alone in my thoughts,
Sometimes when I walk in the streets, I think I saw you
But it wasn't
Sometimes I hear your voice in the mirror and I turn around but you aren't there,
Sometimes I find those old love notes we wrote in high school,
The ones with our names doodled in a heart
Sometimes I feel like I'm tied together with a smile
But I'm coming undone like the line from a Taylor song
Sometimes I think I'm the only one feeling this way
Sometimes I cry but I don't tell anyone
Sometimes it's so cold, but I can't fight it
Sometimes the emptiness is vast, haunting, eating me up from the inside
Sometimes, more than others, I think I will never over you.
And that, I never doubt.

Becca!!! I enjoy this a llttle too much for my own good.

2009-07-30T06:55:00.000-07:00

1. Barney. That dude from Blues Clues. One of the guys from High 5.
>High Five dude. Dude from Blues Clues though I still think he's a pea brained idiot. Cliff Barney. He's a paedophile

2.Mojojojo. Him. Fuzzy Lumpkins.
>Him. Mojo. Shoot Fuzzy before I cliff him.

3.Ryan Philippe. Leonardo DiCaprio. Tobey Maguire.
>I'll always love Leo. I mean c'mon, he's Leo-freaking hotness-DiCaprio. So I'll marry Leo. Shag Ryan and Tobey on the side, coz Tobey's gotten a little too obnoxious for my liking, Ryan cheated on Reese.

4.Colin Farrell. Cillian Murphy. Colin Morgan.
>I'll marry Cillian and Colin M. (oviously) coz I just don't want to choose. Colin can bungee jump off the ledge for all I care.

5.Tyra. Kimora. Janice
>Love Tyra, love Kimora. Love hate Janice. That's why she's going off the ledge. sorry.

6.Angels. Faeries. Pixies.
>There's a difference, just don't know what the hell that would be. But it would be in the order stated above. I think it would take a saint to live with me when I'm older.

7.Angel. Buffy. Skins.
>Buffy. Though I have never seen it, Skins. Angel is a love hate thing for me.

8.Macho dudes. Metro dudes. Music dudes.
>It's the lesser of three weevils, so I'll Marry the music. Shag the macho. Dump the metro. I don't want to compete with no one's freaking hair.

9.Mika. Marc Jacobs. John Barrowman.
>John! For freaking SURE John! I'll marry him just so that he can shag me while singing his tunes. and his Scottish accent... OOOOO... Shag Mika coz of the hair and he just looks damn fcukable (I would swear, but Mel just told me that her baby brother reads my profile. Whatever for, I don't know. So trying to keep it kid friendly here, but failing miserably *Sigh*) Get Marc Jacobs to design me a whole entire line of clothing and then decide once more.

10.Mermen. Centaurs. Tigermen.
>Centaurs coz they're rumoured to be super uber smart. Mermen just for the water activites. Tigermen... er.. scary things, them lot. They'll go off.

Another one of those. For Becs.

2009-07-29T23:21:00.000-07:00

Becca, I love your answers. Okiee... Next one.

1.Acer.Dell. Vaio.
>Vaio. Dell. Acer. (I'm using Acer.)

2.Kim Jae Won. Lee Jun Ki. Rain.
>Jun-Ki. Jae Won. Rain (He can bust his moves while on the way down)

3.Labrador. Rottweiler. German Shepard.
>In that same order.

4.Jonas Bros. Backstreet Boys. Westlife.
>Westlife. JB. BB. (They old)

5.Converse. Vincci. Jimmy Choo.
>I'll take them all, please.

6.China. America. Italy
>Italy. (Coz they can cook) Between the next two, It's a tie. I'd shag them then I throw them off the cliff.

7.Men with: Curly hair. Shag hair. spiky hair.
>Shag Hair. Curly hair. Spiky hair. (Something about shag hairs....)

8.Edward Cullen. Lestat. Dracula.
>Marry Lestat eventhough he'd probably be a pain in the ass. Shag Cullen coz he's going to be super shaggable? Cliff Dracula coz he's just wrong.

9.Darth Vader. Voldemort. Mr Freeze.
>Cliff all of them. God knows why I even suggested this.

10.Prince William. Prince Harry. Prince Andrea.
>Andrea. Harry. William. (Will is having a receding hairline problem)
>

List of things in my brain.

2009-07-29T03:01:00.001-07:00

Becca, Galdon is not nerdy. Not at all. Galdon is the most un-nerdiest person you could ever meet. Nerds are probably scared of him. HELL. I'm scared of him. If you see him, you wouldn't even dare to think that he's nerdy. Galdon and nerdy don't go together in the same sentence, my friend... He's like, a polar opposite of nerdy. LOL!

Went for a blood test today and I can safely say that I will NEVER get used to it. Jean, baby! I miss you already. Bought tonnes of stuff from Sg Wang. Awesome place to shop coz it's like dirt cheap there.

List of things a student from Sarawak to KL should know.

1.Money is going to be tight unless you are given an unlimited allowance.

2.Places like Sg. Wang & Times Square are THE places to go if you wanna shop. It's like a shopping paradise there and your wallet will thank you for it.

3. If it's possible, go to warehouse sales. The prices are often more than not, very ridiculous.

4.Home cook meals are a blessing from Heaven and should be revered, unless of course you can cook and have a kitchen.

5.Unfortunately, the air is bad. Very. Very. Bad.

6.You'll need alot of short sleeve clothings.

7.People here, are more often than not, very very unfriendly. But I would like to note that not all are like that. I've met some that are super duper uber friendly to the max.

8.Cheap food in KL does not exist. Even if they do, by the time you get to the place, the cost of getting there and the food, is already expensive.

9.Bring loads of sunblock. Your skin will thank you for it.

10.Public transport is the way to go. 'Less you have a car or have stand-by drivers all the time, you'll need to get a Touch 'n Go and a book to be in your bag.

11.Drink loads and loads of water. But be careful! The water in KL aren't always un-dodgy.

Total total utter nonsical whimsical nonsense! > For Becca

2009-07-28T06:30:00.000-07:00

1.Jake Missing. Galdon Gan. Jonathan Teo
>Galdon. Jonathan. Jake. (For obvious reasons)

2.Aazean Aida. Ellis Chang. Stefanie Yong.
>Stefanie. Aazean. Ellis (Though I'd no.2 her before I cliff her)

3.Winnie the Pooh. Snoopy. Mickey Mouse
>Pooh. Snoopy. Mickey. (Bloody overrated already)

4.Greece. Australia. Japan
>Australia. Greece. Japan. (Coz unfortunately we don't speak the same language)

5.Camaro. Porshe. Ferrari.
>Ferrari. Camaro. Porshe. (Though I'd prefer a Chevy Impala)

6. The lead singer of The Script. The lead singer of The Fray. Chad Kroeger.
>The Script. Chad. The Fray. (Sorry.)

7.Zachary Quinto. Milo Ventimiglia (However the blazes you spell his name). Chris Pine.
>I'll Shag them all anyday, anyway, anywhere. XD

8.Jack Daniels. Chivas. Absolut Vodka.
>JD. Chivas. Absolut.

9.Hershey. m&m. Mars Bars.
>Again. I'll shag all of 'em.

10.Enrique. David Cook. Jesse McCartney.
>Can I have them all? =)

Don't get me wrong. I'm not a mess. On contrary. I'm just a work of art.

2009-07-27T08:09:00.001-07:00

Yep. I'm bleeding working the whole art-unique thing. Hahaha.. This is me. Out of my mind. But then again the apple pies warped me a long long time ago. Feel like dancing so bad now. Right-O. Here's a list of things I wanna do before I'm 30. Will keep updating from time to time.

1.Attend my own wedding
2.Attend a lecture on why teenagers are teenagers given by some old fart. Just so I can rebuke him with a string of choiced words and thus been escorted out of the hall by security guards =)
3.Overcome my irrational fear of men touching my nape (very very important)
4.Find someone with good hands /=)
5.Get my drivers license. Apparently this should be important, but for me it's a tedious rats arse of a process.
6.Get my diploma
7.Own a hundred books (preferably more)
8.Write and publish something
9.Own more teddy bears. I like teddy bears
10.Get a kitchen with a pantry
11.Get a house with hardwood floors
12.Get educated in the fine art of wines
13.See Ac/Dc in concert
15.Learn how to play a musical instrument
16.Learn how to make 10 more origami thingy
17.Go the whole nine yards for my 21st

Speaking of which, my 18th is coming up.

One kiss for 'See you soon's Another kiss for 'I love you's

2009-07-22T06:48:00.000-07:00

"Do you think she'll make it?"

You turn around to see him perched on the railing like it was the most perfectly sane and normal thing to do. His glassy green eyes seem to shine even in the darkness.

"I don't know. I really don't." You hear yourself answering. "But personally, my money's on her." You both stay as you are for a few more moments before he speaks again.

"Mine too. I don't know, but she got spunk."

"You think?" Grinning, you lit the third cigarette of the night. It's peaceful up here on the roof of the Observatory. Here, you can see the entire city sprawled out like a million twinkling dots that make up a giant concrete spiderweb. It was beautiful. Often more than not, you'll meet up here where everything is detached, and it feels just right.

You hear a thump and the coming footsteps. He snags the cig from you and draws a deep slow drag. "How long do you think she'll last?" He turns his eyes on you. "She isn't the type made out for this shit."

You shake your head. "Never judge a book by its' cover. She's stronger than you give her credit for. 'Sides," You take it back from him, scowling when you see he has almost drawn all life from it. "We both know she's destined for greatness."

You catch each other's eyes and say "Made of Awesomeness!" at the same time, dissolving into fits of laughter. Sighing contentedly, you let the wind ruffle your toffee coloured hair and admire it when it whips his silvery blonde locks around.

"What?" He catches you looking.

Shaking your head, you smile and draw him close. "Nothing." You whispered against his lips as you kiss them. They are soft, just like you remembered them to be and they fit perfectly to the contours of yours. You let the kiss run its' course before slowly drawing apart, driven by the need for air. Something tells you it's time.

"I gotta scram." You say, still not moving away. You hate leaving him. Always hated leaving him. "See you soon?" You say, unsure. You hate goodbyes. The feeling sucked worse than a bullet in the.....

"Yeah. Soon." He whispers sadly. You break apart and walk away. Just when he thought you were going for good, you turn and made a run back to steal another kiss from those delectable angel lips. "Whoa." He said panting a little when you release him.

"That was a 'See you soon.'" And you bend down for another one. "Now That was an 'I love you.'" You smirk and walk away. You could be an ass at times, but you know he loves it. You like to think he fell for you because of it in the first place.

Your cellphone is buzzing as you descend the stairs. "Yeah?"

"Where are you?"

"On my way?"

There was a pause and then, "You met Cupid again??? Death!" The exasperated voice of the Controller whined against the earpiece. "That's like..... Wrong. With a capital 'W' Wrong."

"Look. Why don't you just stick it up where the sunshines are? I'm sure you'll be perfectly blissful there." You hear a laugh from the other end and you know that you're off the hook. For now. "My interrupted intimate moment aside, what d'ya got for me?" Judging by the sudden silence on the other end, you know this is big.

"Thames House. It's big alright."

"On my way." You opened the door of your Porshe (Hey, this job ain't without its' perks) you rev the engine to life. Looking back up to the top of the building, you can't see him anymore. Smiling to yourself, you know that he's going the same place you are. "Oh, it'll be big, Baby." You say too no one in particular but yourself as you speed through the empty streets.

If I could cry tears of blood, I would. Because you deserve nothing less.

2009-07-21T08:33:00.000-07:00

I've been crying for two -bleeping- days straight now. I'm in mourning and I plan to exhaust my entire black wardrobe by the end of the week. I havn't had a spare moment to think about anything else but It. I havn't felt this empty since that moment as I stood outside the clinic after being confirmed a diabetic. The world should stop now. But why should it? Just because Ianto Jones died, doesn't mean the world should take notice?

Wrong.

We notice it. We, Ianto's fangirls, notice it. And we don't like it. My friends have officially said that I'm weird. Why shouldn't I be? Here's how everything changes.

Sunday,19 July
Checking mail, checking facebook, realised that CoE should be out soon. Googles CoE. Clicks on Wikipedia. Gasps when reading about Ianto dying. (It was so -bleep- brief! Like the person writing it was just trying to get to the end) Searches the web for more news. Starts to cry. Alarms roomie. Still in shock. Tells cauliflower (my friend) about this. She says I'm whacked for crying over Yan. I says that I'm not. Couldn't sleep till 4 a.m. Cried self to sleep.

Monday, 20 July
First day of mourning. Wears black shirt to class. Announces in Facebook profile and everywhere else that is mine that am in mourning. Didn't really talk much. Kept mostly to to my friends. They're in disbelief that someone would actually weep over a dead TV character. They says that at least Gareth isn't the one dead. Comes back to room and opens the web. Does the same thing yesterday and racks the web for answers. Starts writing 'Time'-fic (Message for link) but stops halfway, bursting to tears. Sleeps earlier today because of exhaustion. Still cried self to sleep.

Tuesday, 21 July
Begins to write about feelings. (Refer to other blog) Continues writing Time-fic. Begings to read other blogs and fanfics regarding matter. Stops when things get too heavy. Begins posting on blog.

I havn't cried today. I'm hoping I can sleep without the tears, but after reading ~*Sherry*~'s livejournal entry, I'm not too sure about it anymore. I feel like my heart is about to burst. I havn't felt this way in a long time and the last time I did, I prayed that I'd never feel soo bloody helpless and empty again. I know it's irrational to feel this way about a character from a television series, but you don't understand. You never do, do you?

Living in Malaysia is somewhat of a information block-out. I didn't get the news till almost a week after the last ep was aired. I could've grieved a long time ago. I don't know how to cope. As I'm writing this, I'm listening to Ianto's speech from Deadline. Probably not doing any good for my not-crying mission. I really miss him. I really do. Eventhough I havn't seen the episode myself, just the news of it... It's enough to drive me to tears. Right now, for therapy I'm ggoing to keep on writing. Because at least there, I can still have him. I can still dream.

To all those Torchwood fans out there, know this; You Are Not Alone. Only a fan knows another fan. We're not crazy. We're coping. Fanfickers, a super thank you. It's through your stories that we find some sort of solace in this pain. There, at least, we can still have him. Even if it's just for a little while longer. To those that read til here, thank you. Even if you don't understand.

Tears and black are for mourners like me. Look away.

2009-07-21T05:08:00.000-07:00

You are quiet all day. Your friends know what's wrong, but they don't know what to do. Your eyes are rather puffy and red from all the crying. You've been wearing black for almost the entire week already, and you'd never thought that black could bring some solace to what you are feeling now. It seems to amaze you that you find yourself wearing so much of that colour, the colour that used to depress you slightly in the past. The emptiness in you seems to well up and drag you in.

You don't feel like you don't know anything anymore. The world should've stopped. It should've stopped the moment.... Tears are welling up now. You're willing everything within you now to let them show. You've dried up all your prayers. You don't know what to say to Him anymore. You know that it's in times like these, you should trust Him more. But you don't want to feel. Or rather, you can't be bothered anymore.

You feel her sit down next to you. Brushing her long hair aside, she clasps her hands on her lap. "Hey hun." She offers you a small smile. "How are you holding up?" You don't trust your voice, opting to shrug your shoulders instead. She's another mourner. Another person left behind to sort this shit out. Another widower. you have never seen her tears, but you can sense them somewhere behind her worldwise eyes. Together, you sit together under the shade of the trees. It's not like you didn't see it coming. In fact, you expected it even. It's just that....

You hadn't heard the news. You were too busy being you. Until that night, that warm summer night, you finally heard. He's gone! He's gone! They all screamed in unison. You don't believe it. You look at the other news, they all say the same thing. And you can't believe you had let it slipped you by.

All over, the widows mourn. She slips her hand over your smaller ones. It's a warm summers' day, but you feel nothing but a biting cold that gnaws at your bones. You feel weary, drained of everything. "It gets better, hun. It always does." You hear her say softly as the wind brushes against the trees. You let the tear fall. It's nothing but a small whisper, but you hope that the wind carries it to the heavens above where you know he is. "Does it? Does it really get better?"

Blinkie. Blinkie. Blink

2009-07-19T11:21:00.000-07:00

http://spoilerjunkie.wordpress.com/2009/06/08/supernatural-season-5/

The only good thing that I can see from my grieving is that Supernatural WILL be renewed for a Season 6. That means there will be something to look forward to after this September's run of Season 5.

Whoop-de-do. Now what? I'm still wearing black.

My tears are for my heart. But my heart is broken and the pieces are with you.

2009-07-19T09:56:00.000-07:00

I'm absolutely upset. Ianto's dead. I know that Torchwood employees never live long enough to see their hair turn gray, but I still can't help but be affected. I havn't seen any of the episodes of Series3. I have, though, Wikipedia-ed it. And imagine it when I read that Ianto DIED. So I went on all the major TV guide sites and they all tell me one thing. My favourite tea-boy's dead.

The clip is actually a snippet of the last of three (was it three??) audio episodes that aired just recently. The part that's here is the one where Ianto talks to Jack while he's in a trance-like state. It gets really emotional for us 'actual' fans, because it's here that Ianto sorta bares his soul a little. Calling himself 'a blip in time', he pleads for Jack to come back though he's very much aware of the day that will come that Jack will leave for good. The fangirl in me is totally bunking out in the midst of sodden tissues and empty boxes.

I want him BACK, Mr. Russel T. Davies! I know for a fact that John was spotted on the Dr. Who set recently, so I know you're plotting something. And it better be good. Us fangirls like our tea-boys.

My roomie's looking at me all funny 'coz I just spent a good 15 minutes hugging my pillow while replaying the clip and sobbing. Sigh.

Raise your hand if you are Made of awemeness

2009-07-03T23:04:00.000-07:00

My roomie is made of awesomeness. Because of her, I now have Season 2 to Season 4 of Supernatural. -Insert fangirl screams and squeels- Sigh... Life is good. The only thing that can be seriously better now, is if the boys themselves ......Ehem. Some sordid fantasies should be kept to one's selves. Lol.

David Tennant singing. Oh swoon~

2009-06-21T06:27:00.000-07:00

Love is a disease

2009-06-19T03:23:00.000-07:00

Nobody understands you
That much is true
I like the same things that you do
We love to sing in the middle of the night
Driving down Woodwork Drive
I havn't seen you in awhile
Missing you is forgotten in the midst of this
How can we say that this isn't fate
When all we do is languish in the sun
Incoherent nonsense, Enigmatic mysteries
Work themselves out when I'm with you
Can we get better than this?
Love is a disease
I think we all agree on that
But I wanna say I love you and everything you do
And I know you do to
You can wake up
And I'll be there
Just because you belong with me

Bitch, please

2009-06-17T02:11:00.001-07:00

Like seriously? I wish I had a freaking drawing board now. Then I can doodle and oodle and God knows what. Okay... I'll come right out and admit it. My mum doesn't read this blog. But in any other cases, I'm setting up another blog. Just so I can bitch.

Three cheers for sweet irony

2009-06-17T00:31:00.000-07:00

Finally! My freaking homework/assignment/I-don't-knnow-whatcha-call em thingy set by the Journalism tutor is done. Let's all breathe a sigh of relief.

Onto the next 3-4 others. I think the only one that I'm religiously (even then, sparsely) keeping up is my English journal. And that's because I liked it. I'm terrific aren't I?

Waking up not in Vegas

2009-06-16T17:29:00.000-07:00

I woke up at 4 a.m today. Can't remember the last time I'd ever done such a thing. It's getting really really super hard to get some decent stretch of rest these days. I'm putting it down to stress.

Wonder if I should go see the good doctor?

The goddess in the library

2009-06-16T00:42:00.000-07:00

There was a goddess in the library. She sat on a pile of velvet cushions reading her book. The goddess did not look up when I came in. If I hadn't known, I would've thought that she was a statue.

The library belonged to my Uncle Theodore. He was a very strange man, but the bombs were dropping all over Europe and now over London. Mother had to send me to him. I didn't wanted to go. She was all I had left. Father was in the war and we didn't know if he would ever come back. I hadn't seen him for months. "Hush now, darling. It'll all be fine." She said. Mother was a very pretty thing. Her large brown eyes made you want to trust her and tell her your darkest secrets and her auburn hair was curled into thick coils that she pinned to the latest styles. She used to laugh and when she did, it was the sound of joy itself-a gurgling, unbarred, tumbling laughter. Now she hardly did anymore. So when she smiled at me at the train station, I was prepared to do anything.

It’ll all be all fine.

I clung on to those words like they were my lifeline as we rolled into endless landscapes of green.

Mrs Fielder was the one who greeted me at the station. How ironic! The whole situation was turning out like one of the old novels I used to read on the window seat back home. But I begrudges her nothing. She was nothing but kind and held my 10 year old hand in her veined wrought ones as we battled ourselves out of the crowd. Before I'd left, Mother gently explained that Uncle Theodore lived alone in the family manor with a gardner and the housekeeper and he wouldn't be used to children running around amok up the banisters. "Behave yourself. I'm warning you. I've got my eyes on you no matter how far off you may be from me." Pursing her lips she set to the task of buttoning up my coat. That quote of hers stayed with me.

Mrs Fielder gave out that sort of aura of a grandmother. She was glad of the new addition to the household, I could tell. Life must be a bore in that cold drafty place. They got into a motorcar that was being driven by a freckled young man. "Larry, meet Glen. He's the gardner." She sniffed her nose in a way that suggested a great disapproval. The lad chose to ignore it, instead he smiled and greeted me in a thickly Welsh accented voice. "Please to meet you." The ride in the motorcar was anything but pleasant.

But this wasn't about Glen. Oh no. Rather, this was about the goddess who was as beautiful and incomprehensible as the enigma.

"Who are you, little one?" Her bright green eyes notice him for the first time as he took a bold step forward. Her long red gold locks that fell to her toes was flicked impatiently aside as she studied him. Glen felt a blush burn his cheeks. Quickly, he used his hand to smooth down his wiry black locks and straightened his shirt that clung to his slight body. "I won't eat you, you know." She smiled. In that moment, he saw her beauty come out in full force. "I enjoy a good Bronte, Austen and a full dose of the Bard. But I do not harm young fledglings." Pausing a moment, she tilted her head in a fashion that young ladies grew out once they discovered boys and God knows what. Glen couldn't help the skip in his heart beat when she did that. Slowly, but gracefully, she closed her book and laid it on top of a pile of thicker volumes. With a swift motion, she slid off her cushions and gently landed on her feet. Her dress of curious ever changing shades of blue and green rustled as she moved towards him.

"What is your name?"

"Glen."

"Glen." She rolled the name around in her mouth. Smiling. " Hello Glen. Would you like a good book?" He nodded furiously. It was strange. The effect that she was having on him was the same feeling that he felt when mother smiled. He was prepared to jump the cliffs if it was her wish.

He followed her like a silent shadow as she perused the shelves with her eyes. Never touching any of the spines, green orbs lingering only for awhile on their titles and then moving on to another tome.

"Aha!" She reached and a leather bound volume fell quietly into her palm. "Here." She handed it to him. There was a new feeling. A sense of foreboding. 'No! Don't touch it! Please. You musn't!!'

"But I want to..."

'Please, Glen... Don't.' The voice pleaded with him.

"I want to..." And his pale fingers dusted the soft surface of the leather. Dreamily, he opened the book and watched in amazement as colours and images surged up into the sky before coming back and gripping him.

'I told you.'

"Silence." The goddess said. Sighing ever so slightly, she returned the book back to it's perch. She hated it when someone disturbed her reading.

The boy under the rose bush

2009-06-14T06:20:00.000-07:00

I saw him for there on my way home through the mist. He was shivering and he could barely talk through the chattering of his teeth. I saw his form and knew instantly what they'd done. I took off my velvet green school blazer and draped it carefully over his naked malnourished form, mindful of the angry welts and black bruises.

I sat him down in the kitchen. Mother wouldn't be back till dinner and Father... Well, Father would never be home again. He winces slightly as he sits down but I turn and ignore it, favoring the motions of putting the kettle to boil and retrieving the tea things, cake tins from the overhead cupboard. I set the food in front of him but did not linger to see if he ate. Running to the bathroom upstairs, I run the water into the tub and ran back down again. "Let me see." I said quietly. "Please let me see."

He tilts his head up and I brushed the dirty rusty brown caked bangs from his face. I sigh. He sports a black eye and a cut on the lips. The healing gash on his cheek had reopened and a thin trail of red made a trail of a bloody tear. Inside me I felt anger, frustration, disgust and utter helplessness well up. I kiss the top of his forehead quickly as to not frightened him. I know he doesn't mind, but it bothers me.

How can family be so cruel towards each other?

He didn't have a name for himself save the vulgar words that his father throws at him. I called him Yan and he liked it. He couldn't have had been any older than 12, but he was already as tall as my 16 year old self. When we first made aquintance, he'd been cowering under the rose bushes my mother had mooned over but I had patiently watered, nurtured and cared for. His bright grey eyes stare at me from the darkness of the bush. "Who are you?" I asked, noting in my guts that this boy should be approached to like a wild animal. And I was right. He was hurt, I could see that his light blue plaid shirt was dotted with blood. I said nothing, but merely crouched down and stratched out a hand. He looked at it warily. After awhile, something in his eyes clicked. He sensed I meant no harm. Hesitantly, he placed a cold hand in my sweaty and clammy summer ridden one.

It had been a routined. Every single time, he would come to me after his father was tired with him. He never uttered a word, but I knew he was able to read. I had taught him myself. Every single time, dutifully, I would clean his wounds, dress them, give him something to eat, read to him or let him share the book with me. Come dusk and he'd be off again. Back to his father. And the next time, the cycle would repeat itself. The wounds much worse, the cuts deeper, the bruises darker. He'd wait for me under the rose bush, unfailingly. I'd never told anyone about him. I'd not even trust myself to write it down. Though I'd went to the Confessionals last Sunday and told Father DeClan about him. I could hear the old pastor breathe in the space behind the screen, but I knew he had put it down to my childish imaginations. Adults. When that got to that age, they think there is logic and reason for everything.

The bath water was quickly stained a light shade of pink-the kind you got when you mixed too much water with your strawberry juice. I soaped his hair and begun from there. Today it was worse. The weren't only belt markings and cuts and bruises. There had been a trail of deep red blood that flowed and dried between his legs and there was a cake of dried semen on his abdomen. New bruises in the shaped of hands adorned his side. It looked as if whoever had made them had held him from behind and it only added to the fact that his backside was also bruised like a flower that centred around his hole. The thought made me sick. I must've been trembling because he took my soapy hands in his warm ones and kissed them. "I'm so sorry..." I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop it. Tears were beginning to swim in my blue eyes. He placed his hands on the tub edges and used them as leverage. He made sloshes of water on the blue tiled bathroom floor when he came up and kissed me.

I didn't fight him. Nor did I stop what happened next on the wet floor.

We continued our ritual after that, pretending everything was normal when it was not. As usual, I sat next to him with my book. Yan stopped me, shaking his head. Instead he pulls me on top his lap and we read Jane Eyre together. I took in his newly shampooed hair, his still soap scented body that still had traces of the slaves that I had applied on him. I drank him in as the late afternoon sun illuminated the tiny kitchen space we were in. I ran my hand against the fabric of my father's shirt that I'd nicked from the attic. I memorized the way the damp brunette locks fell across his eyes as they screwed up in concentration. I traced every cut, scar, bruise on his face, lips and neck... Oh, his neck! Brushing my lips ever so softly against the warm milken skin, it begun again what we had started on the the bathroom floor.

I had a strange foreboding feeling in my chest. The kind that old people could tell that there was a storm coming, the kind that mothers could sense with that their children were not well. It was a dull and heavy thing that choked me from the inside. As he stepped out into the growing twilight, I wanted to scream and beg him to stay and let me take care of him. Forever. I wanted to pledge myself to him. I was aching to cling on to him and never let him go.

"Yan." I let the word roll out. He turned back at me. Smiling for the first time, it was like the sun had suddenly come out from its sleep. He kissed me and whispers, "Thank you." Stepping off the step, he walked off to the edge of the forest and let the darkness envelope him completely. I didn't know how long it was that I'd stood there. But when my mother came home, she found me in a featal position, curled up as if in pain by the back door.

I wish I could say that the foreboding sense was wrong. I wish I could say that I'd seen him again, bloodied but alive. But the truth of the matter was that I never saw him again. Not in this lifetime at least.

La partie un - les yeux Verts

2009-06-13T05:09:00.000-07:00

She regards me with her cool green eyes. It almost hurts to look. I wish she wouldn't do that, it's uncomfortable. "You have not touched your tea." I pursed my lips but pick the teacup delicately and did just that. Deanna Leight was my grandmother. And I hated my summers with her.

Deanna is my father's mother. Growing up, I saw more of my mother's side of the family than I did of my dad's. That suited me just fine. The Reiner clan was a loud and boisterous bunch of people and it was always fun when I was with my cousins. Then the news came when I was eight that Grandpa Leight had had a heart attack. I remembered that ride with an extra sense of clarity. Mum and Dad sat silently in the front while I sat, huddled in the leather backseat. The radio was off and all I had for distraction was the passing streetlamps and blurs of speeding cars. Even as a child I was always preceptive of everything around me. I knew something was wrong.

He'd died while we were on our way there. I saw Deanna for the first time that night through my sleep leadened eyes. Her sharp features were accentuated by the sharp pull of her auburn hair that was streaked with grey back to form a bun. When she saw Dad, she rose up and embraced him. He towered over her and while they shared the same aristocratic cheekbones and lips, that was about the only thing that linked them pyhsically. Dad had copperish-brown hair that was cropped short and dark brown eyes like melted chocolate. Everything about that meeting was fuzzy. But I remembered one thing. When her green eyes met mine, I shivered.

The summers after that I had spent with her instead of my mother's family, to my dismay. Deanna lived in one of those 1950's houses that you see in the television. Worse still, she lived miles away from civilization-the nearest gas station was about 3 miles right off the main road. For every year till I went to college, I felt abandoned when my parents drove away in their Impala. And every year I pitched a fuss about going. I would throw tantrums for weeks leading up to my 'isolation' and throw an even longer sulk when I got back.

"Your head is in the clouds." Her voice brings me out of my thoughts. I smile and say nothing. She's lying in bed, her hair now almost completely grey and braided. She closes her eyes and I let a breath that I didn't realise I was holding. "Don't stay in the clouds too long. They're a beautiful place to be but you could fall really hard." I nod my head and tuck a stray lock of my jet black hair behind my ear. I had decided to dye my hair black and cut it to one of those bobs just to spite on my Dad. Mum never said anything. Somewhere in my hearts of hearts, I think she enjoys the emotional problems I'm giving him. I got all my looks from her save for the green eyes. That, I was told, was a Leight emblem. So I wore brown contacts that gave me hazel looking eyes.

Deanna had been ill for a long time now. Dad had presuaded her to come stay with us but all the while she'd refused. She 'enjoyed her solitude' as she said. I sat by her bedside for the last time. Come September, I was off to college. An art college in Los Angeles. Dad wasn't too happy, but when ever was he when it was about me? I should think that Lulu and Mike wouldn't turn out like me. They were normal. They both had my mother's eyes. Ocean blue eyes. My younger siblings were the perfect angels of the family. I was apreading my wings and flying away. As far away as I can go. So now, I'm just doing my duties.

I read a magazine to while away the time. Some stupid toe rag that had a guts to call itself a publication. Nobody told me anything and I didn't ask. My butt was falling asleep but I can't leave this chair. The bright afternoon sun was filtering in through the plastic blinds of South Mercy Hospital. It was peaceful here, I had to admit. I wished I had my sketch book to sketch my surroundings. Deanna has been here for the past three weeks but I can see no machine hooked to her like a thousand lifelines. She doesn't say much, as she always does whenever we are together. I don't understand it really. Why do I feel so against her?

I left the cold white walls at half-past eight. Two weeks later, I was under the warm California sunshine. I never saw Deanna again. Not alive at least.

It was the 5th of November and I was in bed after a party. Glen and I were just about to get frisky when my cell phone started to buzz. "Hello?" I didn't bother keeping the irritated edge out of my voice. There was a pause. "Hello? Who is this?" Glen raised an eyebrow at me and started nibbling my earlobe.

"Mae? It's Dad." I swatted him away. "It's about your gran."

Pulling the covers around me, I sat for the next 20 minutes listening to my father on the otherside of the line. Deanna had died last night, in her sleep. They had notified the funeral home and could I come back on the next flight? Glen pouted at me and I grimaced. "Sure. Why not?" I said. The next thing I knew I was on the frontporch of my childhood home. Mom greeted me at the door and enveloped me in her arms. Lulu and Mike were in the kitchen munching on cookies and my Reiner grandparents were there with them.

The funeral was in the afternoon. And it was raining. God it was raining. One moment outside and we were soaked to the bone. At the graveyard I saw more Leights than I had ever seen in one lifetime. There was an Auntie Jude and a Grand-Uncle Ted and a million myriad others who I could never remember. They all were in an array of heights, weights and physical features. But most of them, at least the older ones had the same brilliant Leight green feline eyes. I felt as I did that night in the hospital. I felt that same shiver up my spine.

Wake up dreamer

2009-06-11T18:43:00.000-07:00

Attended an event yesterday. It was an environmental themed talk by Matthias Gelber. Didn't know who the dude was then, but now I do. And it was awesome. Pardon the lack of exclaimation marks. I'm still sleepy and thus the lack of hyperness.

Of magic, mystery and a little mayhem

2009-06-11T02:39:00.000-07:00

I don't know how this is going to fare, but I just had to put it up. It gave me the bejeebees because I know how the story will end. (Don't we all?) Now I can hardly wait to watch it. The sixth Harry Potter film.

Running to the edge and beyond♥

2009-06-10T03:35:00.000-07:00

I'm reaallly knackered today. Had first Gym meet and Boy. I'm going to hunt down the arsehole who told me it was going to be a breeze. Just updated my blog. Made links to my fanfiction profile, my flickr profile and my most favourite place to get a fix. So far, that had been all. The red visitor is here. I wish I could swear, but seriously, my mum reads this blog. So I'll just head down the fudgen' moist chocolate cherry topped cake with whip cream and sprinkles of cinnamon road.

The things I do for love.

2009-06-09T07:27:00.000-07:00

I'm knackered. Don't mind me.

Everything in life I learnt, I learnt from watcing the telly.

2009-06-08T06:32:00.000-07:00

Yea~ New layout! Thanks yummylolly! You're an awesome designer and I'm sure you'll make an even awesomer mummy. Congrats on your latest additions. =3 Hugs and kisses from me here.

Salt and burn. Best way to kill the dead.

2009-06-08T05:29:00.000-07:00

Okayyy...

So I've got one homework from the scary lady that I havn't done, around 3 assignments that need my attention like little babies of my womb, and some other iffy stuffs that I kinda gotta see to too.

So why am I still here? You know what? That's a pretty darn good question. I'd like to know the answer too.

My hair falling out in clumps (Oh noes~)

2009-06-06T20:23:00.000-07:00

Stress. The silent, lingering, nauseating feeling that had been clawing at me for the past few days. I'm feeling rather stressed out by the whole predicament of me being the secretary of the CF Fundraising thing. Should I continue with the notion that this is glorifying God and that subsequently brings me the compulsory 2 hours for my co-curriculum.

WHAT SHOULD I DO??? I don't think I can take this much things all at the same time. I can't breathe anymore.

Bloating, floating into the sky

2009-06-04T07:26:00.000-07:00

Saw Terminator Salvation the other day. And OMG. Sam Worthington.

Hot. Sizzling earthshaking hot awesomeness. Dripping and oozing from every sexy pore.

Sigh. I obviously take pleasure in gazing at very hot men. Am currently feeling extremely bloated. Had just finished my first meeting with the CF Fund raising committee as a secretary. Now, I'm just sitting here and going 'Why the hell did I take them up on that in the first place??'

Only God knows. I feel rather overwhelmed by all this. And if Michelle's dark omen was anything to go by, I'm in some serious shit. Anyone who knows me well enough knows that responsibility and me don't usually go in the same sentence. Like never in the same sentence. Being a course rep is hard enough now I have to be the fecking bloody bleeding blooming secretary????? God help me. It's not that I hate duties and all that. No. I relish the opportunity to take the helm. But this is some serious shit here.

I've got to go to Krispy Kremes and ask them to sponsor our Fund Raising thing. Honestly, I'll be the first to admit that I'm a super hyper energizer bunny. But this is so totally out of my head! I really need help.

Should I bail now, while the cause is still young and I'm not in too deep, or should I just trudge on glumly, gritting my teeth to the chant that I will receive a cert by the end of all his knish-nak?

Ugh. Someone give me a filter between my brain and mouth.

The Doctor does it for me.

2009-05-30T01:15:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to say. David Tennant is the BEST!!! Oh gawd. Look at him and say otherwise.

I dare you.

The awesome Mr Tennant is actually a Mr David John McDonald hailing from Paisley, Scotland on the 18h of April 1971. Standing at 6"1, he's an Aries who is acclaimed for his roles in theater and TV. Most notably as the fast-slinging, witty and indisputably sexy 10th regeneration of the Time Traveller from Gallifrey, simply known as the Doctor. The Doctor Who. I mean, how cool is that? Just to be able to tell people the you are the Doctor.

The son of a Presbyterian minister, he was brought up in Bathsgate. A place made famous by the band called The Proclaimers (Who also happen to be his favourite band!) He knew he'd wanted to be an actor from a very wee age (around 3 or 4!) He did some theatre for some time before he landed the role of a manic-depressive Campbell Bain in the awrd-winning BBC Tv production, Takin' Over the Asylum. It was a role that he claimed changed his life.

Then in 1996, when he'd just turned the ripe old age of 25, the talented Mr Tenant joined the Royal Shakespeare company. Fast forward a few years found David with three roles that won him international acclaim, namely as Reverand Gibson in 'He knew he was right', an Andrew Davies' adaptation of the novel by Trollope. As Detective Inspector Peter Carlisle in BBC's Blackpool, he won over critical acclaim as the food-a-holic police officer. And also as the infamous, always associated with sex, Casanova.

Besides being the Doctor in Doctor Who, David Tenant also had a share of the big screen in a little less known adaptation of a very under the radar book called Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire where he played the dashingly psychotic role of Barty Crouch Junior.

All in all, there's no denying it. He's one smoking hot, talent in a pot Scotsman!

Boredom never looked so bored

2009-05-30T00:45:00.001-07:00

So here I am. The cyber cafe place in my hostel canteen is seriously earning alot from me alone. I think I might have dropped about 30 ringgit in this week alone. *shudder*

So am here. Currently listening to Daft Punk's One more time. Sorta like a theme song between my sis and I. Loved it since the first time I heard it. French Tech rules! (And who said I was just a pop sorta girl?)

Bands I love:

Coldplay
Keane
Bloc Party
Metrostation
Daft Punk
Justice
The Ting Tings
White Lies
The Veronicas
The Script

Doron, mind telling me what 42 meant? Anyone???

My automated buzzing alarms

2009-05-29T20:32:00.000-07:00

Okay.

So now we got our timetables, so why am I ranting? Well. It's because it's bleeding blooming bloody confusing!!

I had more than one coursemate come and message me in the middle of the night and ask me if there is class tommorow. Omg. You have a timetable don't you??? Over the past few days, my phone has been buzzing with messages. Truthfully in all honesty, I don't mind them. I don't mind the calls at 12 in the morning and the messages at 2. I seriously have no problems at all with them. The only bone (or bones) I have to pick is that, Yes I am your course rep. But that doesn't mean I'm God. I don't know everything and I don't pretend that I do. You all have legs and eyes and a mouth. Use the ratio. Everyone has maps and there has never been anything wrong in going to the SSH admin block (which is just right beside block V behind the college hall) Walking the extra mile never hurt no one. If there'd been anyone to take out your stakes and point it at, it's them- The very smart and awesome people in the office of the Sekolah Syaitan and Hantu admin office.

Check the notice board as had been kindly suggested by the head of our school himself during our mass call (unless you were too "busy" to listen) If you still aren't sure, drop by and ask them personally. Then, you come and inform me. Yes. You can ask your seniors, but please bear in mind that that is the only thing that they are. Seniors. They aren't Gods of the universe as well. I'm not trying to be mean or iffy or anything. Am just trying to point out that responsibilities can be carried out by all of us as a class.

Late night swimmers

2009-05-29T07:39:00.000-07:00

Went to the swimming pool at the sports complex and they said that they were out of tickets for the pool. =( Note to self:Buy tickets early. Am currently re-watching the Doctor Who special of the Weakest Link. God. I love Anne. She's the real Queen of Mean. Let's list out the things I love (which by my friends, is a totally Herculean feat)

Books- I'm a geek. Gotta problem with that? Books are the only things I don't even have to think twice about buying.
Food- Malaysian. Need I say more?
Stationery- (Did I get that right?) To write things down of course. You won't believe how many pens and pencils, discounting the markers and what-nots that I currently own.
Dr.Who- David Tennant+The TARDIS= Awesomeness. Best show ever in my opinion. Doesn't matter what people say about how they don't get it. Haters don't know shit if it was right under their noses.
Torchwood- John Barrowman+Gareth Davies-Lloyd=Janto(Jack+Ianto) And that, is super awesomeness.
Teddy bears- I'd prefer plush toys and books over chocolates and roses. Any day. So take note.
Music- For studying and mind numbing relaxation moments.

Just a few in the passing. Probably would add on once I got all the fuzzums in my brain sorted out properly.

bada-bing, ba-da boom

2009-05-27T23:47:00.000-07:00

Classes got cancelled today so now I'm sitting at the library... Doing this. Though I don't really have am inkling what 'this' is. Am hoping that later comes soon so that I can finally, I repeat finally go and lay my head on my pillow.

An authority higher than yours. Of course you question it?

2009-05-27T21:26:00.000-07:00

http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=2AizV9vmGG0

I dunno if this works, but that's the trailer for Torchwood Season 3-at least I think it is.. Torchwood is an anagram for Doctor Who. And yes. It's a spin-off of Doctor Who. But trust me when I say that it is no way dismayal like the Sarah-Jane Adventures.

Captain Jack, Ianto Jones and the lovely Gwen Cooper are back after the devastating loss of Torchwood members Owen Harper and Toshiko Sato. Bummer really. They both brought to the show, so much. It was definitely a tear jerker. The latest series will have to wait till the Dr Who specials end. Again. Bummer.

Saw the books in a warehouse sale the other day. Honestly, I think there were some poor patrons who thought I was bonkers or something because I totally went like "Yes! Yes!! Yesss!!" Sounds a little too much like orgasms. Maybe I was having too much fun? I have a bone to pick with the writers. Why is Ianto only mentioned sparingly throughout the three books???? And yes. I'm a total Janto shipper.

Will definitely miss Burn Gorman and Naoki Mori on the show, but yeah. Torchwood members are always living on borrowed time.

The whole bleeding blooming business

2009-05-27T20:08:00.000-07:00

WARNING: SPOILERS

Picture belongs to supernaturalfanwiki.com
(http://supernaturalfanwiki.wetpaint.com/page/Lucifer+Rising)

Supernatural season 4 has officially ended with the final ep aptly entitled 'Lucifer Rising'. I applaud the producers, scriptwriters and most especially the men of awesomeness Jensen and Jared themselves for portraying their characters to a whole new level. But my problem was

WHY??? WHY???? WHY??????????

I get that there are only 5 seasons and all and we've got to have something to draw us in to watch it, but why in the name of everything fan-girlisms did you guys have to make it a cliffhanger?? Ruby is a bitch(Yay~) I think eveyone sorta knew that from the beginning. Turns out she was a dirty cheating lying double crosser that she ultimately was in every loyal Winchester Girls' mind. There are loads of moments in this season that you sorta go, 'Awww...' Scenes that involve the brothers could make you just smile a little. But then again there were also scenes that you just wanted to give them both a slap on their heads and shout 'That's your brother, you idjit!'

Old Yellow Eyes turns out to be the bonafied Son of the Devil himself. Gasp. I think, looking back, there were hints all along. Lilith is the final seal and First Demon (First human turned demon by the devil after his fallout with God). Crazy psycho demon-child thingy has an apetite for human babies. Ew. Her personal chef became a snack after Sam (gone nuts and stuff) 'fed' on her'. Yes people. Sammy fed on her demon blood. What I gotta say is, 'Dude!'

Anywhos, Dean gets locked up in some heavenly witing room of sorts where it's complete with a burger and a beer. Guess that would be a cool place to be sent up to if you are into burgers and beer. I would prefer a library with soft cuhions and throw pillows with a kitchen. The two angels Zach and Cas appear and tell him that he has to be the one to kill Lucifer, not Sam. That'll be one of my highlights of Season 5. Interesting how the plot plays out so well. Big brother Winchester demands to be let out, only to be denied the get out of jail free pass. Then Cas comes in and cuts himself, smearing the blood on the wall. Ew and Ouch. He tells Dean that Lilith isn't just the only one after the breaking of the final seal. She's the final seal meaning that her death will result in Lucifer's release. Uh-oh. Because Sam has found her after making a deal with the personal chef and is on their way with Ruby to kill her.

Dean and Cas arrive back on Earth where we see the prophet Chuck (from ep 'The mosters at the end of this book') hooking it up with 20 $1,000 prostitutes. Yup. It's the end of the world and he knows it. The dude is surprised to see them, seeing that they shouldn't be here at all. Too bad the party got crashed, coz it would've been fun to see what they could've gotten up to. Chuck tells Dean where his little brother would be and sends him on his way while he and angel Castiel stay and try to delay the Archangel breathing down powers of awesomeness down on them.

Dean arrives in time and baby Sammy seems to have reverted to his old self, only to be micked by baby-eating Lilith. Squezing the trigger, he kills her. And that's when all hell breaks loose. Literally. Dean barges in through the door and stabs the bitch (Did I just hear a chorus of yeahs and cheers of joy?). The Winchester boys look at each other and the viewers (primarily the girls) just smile and sigh at the looks of pure forgiveness and regret that emit from both of them. I mean seriously? There could've been no other duos better suited for these roles than the two of them. The brotherly chemistry is apparent in every scene and moment that they are together on our screens. However, the bromance moment is cut short as the floors are opening and some serious scary looking light that practically screams not-good is shining. And our screens are blinded in a curtain of bright light.

I wish I could insert strings of swear words, but I won't. No because I can't, just that I won't. Viewers in the US will be able to watch the last season of the show in about 3 months while the rest of us will have to wait. Season 4 will hit Asian shores through AXN Beyond in the 2nd half of 2009, which isn't very long. But, ARGH! I tell you. Waiting is not my forte. But then again, there is the miracle called the Internet. Ah. The joys of technology. It'll definitely be a long wait, but we can be deifinitely sure. The party is not over yet.

Of other thingy-ma-jigs

2009-05-23T19:18:00.000-07:00

The timetable isn't out yet. The timetable isn't out yet!!! *Moans in frustration* SOT got theirs already why is ours late???? Argh! I'm feeling rather Hannibal-ish... Sigh.. Can't do shit about it. Will be attending a party later with a big, humongous very-sightable pimple on the middle of my brow. Yes people. It's gobsmacked right there. Like a beacon or a volcano waiting to erupt. Buggers. Feeling kinda down now. Possible signs of a fever or flu coming along. Then again, everything comes along pretty well.

Crazy mixed up world

2009-05-22T07:34:00.000-07:00

The stupid timetable isn't out yet. Bummerings. Okay. I havn't kept a blog in a long long looooong time so this is somewhat of a rediscovery process. Forgive me in advance.