Beauty emanates from every word that you say
You’ve captured the deepest thoughts
In the purest, and simplest of ways
But you see, I’m not that graceful, Like you
Nor am I as eloquent
But just a simple melody
Can change the way that you see me

And right now, I have you
For a moment I can tell I’ve got you
Cuz your lips don’t move
And something is happening
Cuz your eyes tell me the truth
I’ve put a spell over you

And that I’m not going to think about anything. Despite what Shamus said last night. That’s the only way to get through this without it turning into another Spike D. So I’m going to try. I’m going to try not to think about anything except work.

Sigh.

Wish me luck in that.

Lately, life hasn’t been much. There are times when I feel like I’ve lost myself and my identity. I find myself asking, “Who am I? What am I doing?”. My dreams make me feel lost. They seem so hard to reach, so unattainable, so… impossible.

And then I see the videos about them and I look at them and think, “Hey. They’re still going on. They’re not giving up, they’re not caring about what others are thinking and they’re doing what they want to do. They’re living every second of their lives.”

That incredible willpower, that strength to go on and not care about what others think and to be able to stay true to who you are and not conform to what other people expect of you.

It’s just incredible.

And then, that’s when you get the strength to think, “I can be like that too. I can be strong. So I’m not going to give up, I’m not going to care what other people think and I’m going to make sure I live every second of my life. For myself. Because this is my life.”

Pattern: Wisp by Cheryl Niamath
Yarn: Classical Sirdar Wool, 3 balls
Needle: US 9/5.5 mm, Knitpicks Nickel
Started: Dec 27 ’08
Ended: Jan 12 ’09
Notes: Finished a while back but finally got around to photographing it. Looks pretty good so far. Mum’s been using a lot since the weather has been quite cold lately.

Gosh. I’m quite certain I’m about to die from boredom. I’ve read, written, studied, eaten, played, and done just about everything but I’m feeling so bored. Every other thing I think of to do for fun just seems so dull. Gah. I think I’ll call it an early day today. Maybe sleeping could speed the time passing by. Blah. Bye.

There was a time about 2 months ago or so when I was interviewed on the streets about PDA (and which I thought they were referring to Personal Digital Assistant but really they meant Public Displays of Affection)… and I sort of found the site where the vodcast was uploaded.

Due to some sort of masochistic streak I have in me that delights (extremely) in embarrassing myself, here is the >>link<< to the video. (click on the camera icon) Please do click on it so that I can blush and then whine about how perfectly idiotic I seemed in the video with an earphone hanging out of one ear while speaking half-English and half-Chinese. In fact, you can even laugh at me!

Or not. Just kidding. At some point my masochism stopped, only to be replaced by a perfectly sarcastic attitude.

Okay. Moving on to the next topic, I have undertaken the task of cataloguing the entire folder of bookmarks of stories that I like very much. It’s going to be an insane task, but I get a perverse satisfaction from putting myself through ‘hard work’ and nitpicking at the list and pages until they look absolutely delectable. I love lists. It’s a new delight in my daily diet of ‘let’s do something incredibly tough just for the heck of it’. Oh, and you can check it out >>here<<. It’s my old blog and pretty bare at moment ’cause I deleted all of the old posts. Did I mention that I love Bulk Delete?

And the way I’m talking, I sound like I’m addicted to adverbs. If I curse there’ll happen to be words like bloody and freaking peppering the sentences; if I’m waxing lyrical like I am now I’ll go something like:

intones in dry, sarcastic tone of Snape

“You are an incredibly stupid imbecile. I simply cannot fanthom how impossibly small your brain must be for you to make such a monumental mistake out of a perfectly simple task. You must have been excessively malnutritioned for your hand-eye coordination to be this bad… Blah blah blah insult parentage brains relatives choices blah blah blah.”

In fact, there’s even a >>Severitus!fanart<< where Snape spouts out a whole chunk of insult like a never-ending fountain. It was pretty hilarious, since in the end he was insulting himself and didn’t realise it. I find it incredibly funny when people don’t get that they’re being mocked or insulted at. It’s insanely perverse, yes. (Severitus = Snape’s Harry’s dad. It’s an alternate universe people like to live in sometimes.)

And speaking of fanart, here is another you simply must read. It’s tha best. (click on the image to go to the link)

*dies laughing*

Words: 242
Summary: As the title says, living in fear.
Author’s note: I’m in some sort of funky mood nowadays since I seem to be churning out hurt and angst by the dish load. Thankfully they’re short and straight to the point.

Slap. Thud. Boom.

It was happening all over again. She ran into her room, and quickly turned on her music player, hoping to tune out the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, grunts of pain as the woman fell to the ground, her nose probably bleeding again, and another bruise on her already blackened eye. She turned the knob to the loudest volume, but the music was never loud enough. Never loud enough to take her into another world. Away from the nightmare she lived in.

Another world, another lifetime, where such things never happened. How she longed for those days. Outside, something shattered. She shuddered, thinking of her mother falling onto a glass-littered ground. Taking out those glass shards would be extremely painful. How long could her mother take this? She wanted to run out, to help, to protect, to do something. The urge was so strong she jerked herself backwards when she saw her feet moving on their own. NO! She screamed at herself. She knew what would happen if she did something. It would only make things worse. She locked her door, just in case. Sometimes the beatings ended up in her room. She still had the bruises to prove it. She quickly scrambled to her bed, and hid under her covers. Outside, the beatings continued. She shook in fear.

Boom. Slap. Thud.

And then, silence.

It was a while later when she heard someone crying.
And a long while later before she realised it was her.

I suppose at times we all go through different kinds of mindsets.

I suppose that at this age, well, my age at least, many of us go through phases of different kinds of thoughts and emotions and actions. I sure know that I’ve been through one such upheaval recently. It moulded me into a different person, moulded me into who I am right now.

A few months back, or maybe even years back, I wouldn’t have enjoyed classical music. I would have tried to enjoy it, or pretend that I liked it just to impress my crush who was musically inclined. It wouldn’t have been me. I would, well, have been trying too hard.

Yet somehow my life has changed such that I am no longer a loner, a young plump girl who had no one except fairy tales and fantasies to turn to. No longer a girl with a distrust for anything that didn’t fit in with my world.

I grew up and have had the experience of leading, a memory that I will always cherish. The satisfaction I had gotten from having had a job well done, a task fulfilled, something productive to be done always, a camaraderie that had grown from long treks in the forest and having shared the same tent. I really do miss them, my councillor family. I really do miss them so much, thinking about it now.

And then I suppose there were my friends from my class. The bond that had grown from having shared 4 years together, eating together during recess, sitting in the class chatting while waiting for the next lesson, moaning about horrible science practicals we had to stay back for, and laughing at silly jokes made about g-strings and sex.

Despite all our internal politics, despite our silly arguments about things that had seemed so important at that time, despite all our fights, we were still a family. A class family of people who had bonded together, thrown together by the Fates (or really rather, our PSLE aggregates but still…) and became a family.

A family is the only word I could have used to describe them. Both the councillors and my classmates.

Even my close group of friends. That’s what we are. A family.

We are all family, in the end. In the end, things will boil down to a single way of life. Either we stick together or we don’t. If we do, we are a family and families stick up for one another because that’s what families do. If we don’t, then maybe we just didn’t love or care for one another enough.

I have no idea why I ended up talking about families. But that’s what I ended up saying. And well, families are important.

S, I know sometimes you talk about your family. I know sometimes your family lets you down. And I know sometimes you fight with them. But that’s what real families do. (I sure as hell know I argue with my parents and my siblings about the most inane, stupidest kind of things ever.) Not on purpose, though, but as human beings, we all act on our own impulses that gratifies our own needs.

After all, we are selfish. It takes a lot to be selfless, and think of others first.

But real families forgive one another. They get angry or upset or emotional, but in the end, should things happen, they’ll stick around. They’ll care for you, comfort you with the strangest actions or words or just be around. If they’re anything like me, they’ll just be around. I (they) wouldn’t know how to comfort, but they hope that by being around, you’d know they care. If they’re touchy huggy feely people, they’ll hold you. Hug you. Wipe your tears.

Your family will always love you, because they are your family. Just like I know mine will. Because they are my family. And you are part of my family now too. I will be there for you too.

You can go through as much weird phases as you like. Purity is in the heart. The intent. It’s not in the body, not in the soul. (If we’re that pure in the body or soul, how can we allow horrible things like child abuse, or MAID abuse, or whatever not and bad stuff to happen when we can stop it?)

Believe in love. I believe in it. I love you, like you love me. We’re sisters forever. Sisters of the heart. You can wear a purity ring if you want to. Because I know that there’s a part of you, in your heart, that’s pure, and innocent when it comes to love. Waiting, and longing, and hoping, and loving the one who will show up one day when the time is right.

Change is the only thing that’s constant. I know that, you know that. But it takes a lot for it to sink in. It takes a lot to really understand it. Which brings me back to my memory lane topic.

Life is always full of surprises, or disappointments. Live your life the way you want it to be. Don’t live it with pain and regrets and sadness. Don’t live it and look back at this period with sadness. Life is meant to be happy. When things are down, and it seems like there’s no way out, believe that things will get better. Without pain there is no happiness. Without sadness there is no happiness.

Look forward and believe. Believe in yourself. You are a strong girl, a stronger person than you’ll ever realise. You have made it through so much. This year will be our coming of age. A time when you’ll come into who you are. You may not find the meaning in your life, or the reason why you’re around. But believe. Believe in yourself. And love. Love yourself. And live. Live for yourself. Not for me, not for your family, not for your love or for all the yarn in the world. Live for yourself. Because this is your life.

So, my friend, remember that. Believe. Love. Live.

Isn’t that just awesome? It’s going to be a two-year, full-time degree awarded in the name of Chapman University, and it is customised for NP’s graduates in Film, Sound & Video AND Mass Communication diplomas! Besides that, the annual tuition fees will be subsidised by MOE.

According to the news page, it says that “Creative Producers are visionaries who conceptualise and drive the creative, technical, financial and business aspects of film and TV production.” I love that definition. I’m definitely going to make it for this degree. It’s a properly set goal that I can aim for and can achieve.

And what makes me happy too is that there may also be a possible internship in Hollywood alongside an immersion programme at Chapman University’s Orange County campus! So.. That means that all the knitting I’m doing now can and will be utilised. One day. I may even experience winter one day! So that woolly sweater I’m thinking of making won’t be too ridiculous in hot, erratic, humid Singapore.

At least that’s what I’m saying to make myself feel better about my current stash.. Yup.

For more info, here’s the link: Hollywood boost for local film makers

Seventeen, I was living life
Chasing dreams and my hopes were high
Trying to get around my fear of
When and where do I go from here

I asked somebody close to me
Who could see a lot further than a boy could see
Oh, oh, oh and he said…

Oh my, oh my, oh my these days are flying by
I still feel seventeen inside, not one day over
Don’t let the trials of life, change who you are tonight
Stay seventeen each time you get one year older

I said you’re at that time of life when your heart is strong
Your future’s bright, you can do no wrong
And don’t you let those feelings out of sight
Keep a hold of them as the years go rolling by

These words have always stuck with me
But now I’m only getting what it all appears to mean
Oh, oh, oh and he said…

Oh my, oh my, oh my these days are flying by
I still feel seventeen inside, not one day over
Don’t let the trials of life, change who you are tonight
Stay seventeen each time you get one year older

He said…my years have come and gone,
in oh such little time
And I hope you live your life the way that I lived mine
Stay young at heart, stay young in mind

So I said…

Oh my, oh my, oh my these days are flying by
I’m still seventeen inside, not one day over
I won’t let the trials of life, change who I am tonight
Stay seventeen each time you get one year older

One year older, one year older
oh my oh my oh my oh my

So stay seventeen each time you get one year older

It kind of really struck me that this year will be my 17th year on Earth (Geez, I sound like I’m an alien who crash-landed).

The thought is rather sobering. I could go in the direction of people-die-but-I’m-still-alive, or I could start in the wow-I-can’t-believe-I’m-going-to-be-17-soon, or I can just talk about the past.

I guess it’s easier, aye?

I’m still living life and I think I know what I want to do. But the truth is, I’m kind of scared sometimes when I say that I have a dream and a goal that I want to achieve. I’m afraid I can’t. And that’s why this song knocks me on the head, and I feel as though it’s telling me not to give up.

It’s a great song.

And by the way, it’s Seventeen by Simon Webbe.

And HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Desmond, Rebecca and Gayathri!