Jeez I am so blanked out now.
Hmm..my brain is running at full speed now..hahah is that even possible ? my brain doesn't have legs! I think.
You see.. today is the first day of the holidays.
The holidays.
T-H-E-H-O-L-I-D-A-Y-S.
Yep.
AND I AM SO BORED..
it's the first day and I'm already bored, hahah I'm hopeless?!
It was so absurd when In the middle of checking a few websites.. I had a sudden impulse to do my 'homework'. so off I went to my room and when I was pulling out my pencil case did it register to me..I had none.
SO I just stared off in my room, and saw the past year papers.
SIGH.
Sadly, I guess My brain suffered from short sanity loss cause the next thing I knew.. I was actually opening the pages to my Bio Notes and past year papers.
Now Isn't that sad?
Thank god I came to my senses and dragged myself to the computer to my blog,of which I've neglect of feeding it with posts.
And now I so Don't know what to write.
Guess I'll start playing games or something like that..
later I'll do an exercise course..as usual..
but then..I don't know what to do!!
AH.sigh..I think tonight I'll so some studying lah..kay..yea...
shivers* what is going on with me??
30.11.08
1. Take a recent picture of yourself or take a picture of
yourself right now.
2. Don't change your clothes, don't fix your hair... Just
take a picture.
3. Post that picture with NO editing.
4. Post these instruction with your picture.
5. Tag 5 people to do this.
Jeez Worlikers.. hmm..I tag : uh Rai, Janice, Fisah, Cat, and Jul.
:P
22.11.08
So deserving.
You see her.
Her eyes ;red
like from the dead.
Her hair; a mess,
with no reason,
to see through.
Her fingers;white
from the scar.
Her nose;swollen
from the rough tissue.
Her ears; bled
from the endless beat.
Her lips; parched,
contrasting with her cheeks.
Her figure broken,
laid as pieces.
Her posture,
was of depletion.
She was broken.
You turn your head.
You knew this would happen
you look at her once again,
then stare at else where.
you can not take the view.
You need to get out
Quick.You move
towards the door.
You glance at her,
as disgust and pity
steeled your choice.
You take the knob,
removing your presence,
leaving nothing,
except for the stamp
sending her spiraling
down below.
"that's what you get, when you let your heart win."
Her eyes ;red
like from the dead.
Her hair; a mess,
with no reason,
to see through.
Her fingers;white
from the scar.
Her nose;swollen
from the rough tissue.
Her ears; bled
from the endless beat.
Her lips; parched,
contrasting with her cheeks.
Her figure broken,
laid as pieces.
Her posture,
was of depletion.
She was broken.
You turn your head.
You knew this would happen
you look at her once again,
then stare at else where.
you can not take the view.
You need to get out
Quick.You move
towards the door.
You glance at her,
as disgust and pity
steeled your choice.
You take the knob,
removing your presence,
leaving nothing,
except for the stamp
sending her spiraling
down below.
"that's what you get, when you let your heart win."
20.11.08
When writing fails.
The words in your brain;
beginning to swirl out of hand.
You have to write.
You need to write.
You take a breath.
And Plunge.
All the words, stumbling clumsily onto the paper;
Reincarnating a scene,
remaking a memory,
reliving a life,
Revisiting the past.
Of which secrets were laid bare,
where feelings were openly displayed,
when wit was a tool of knowledge
and sarcasm was everything;
the marks of annoyance,
the strength of anger,
the tenderness of interest,
the softness of caring.
You breathe again,
after letting that out.
You hope for the best.
But.
then a silver ray beacons to you,
blinding you, as you grope
all around you for resistance.
The light beckons you to delve more.
More into your mind,
the sea of emotions, fought against
strained and locked.
Too much.
Too much.
You can not breathe.
You struggle, you claw
you throat trying to breathe.
Too much.
So you grab on the nearest thing,
an excerpt or knowledge,
like a drowned swimmer would,
and hope that one day the sea would evaporate,
or drain.
grasping the object,rather obsessively,
like children with their toys,
Your hands are now bleeding,
you've held the object too strong,
but it can not be helped.
So you keep holding on.
you keep holding on, for the sake of living.
you hold on for the sake of sanity.
you hold on for the fear of drowning,
into the deep blue sea.
beginning to swirl out of hand.
You have to write.
You need to write.
You take a breath.
And Plunge.
All the words, stumbling clumsily onto the paper;
Reincarnating a scene,
remaking a memory,
reliving a life,
Revisiting the past.
Of which secrets were laid bare,
where feelings were openly displayed,
when wit was a tool of knowledge
and sarcasm was everything;
the marks of annoyance,
the strength of anger,
the tenderness of interest,
the softness of caring.
You breathe again,
after letting that out.
You hope for the best.
But.
then a silver ray beacons to you,
blinding you, as you grope
all around you for resistance.
The light beckons you to delve more.
More into your mind,
the sea of emotions, fought against
strained and locked.
Too much.
Too much.
You can not breathe.
You struggle, you claw
you throat trying to breathe.
Too much.
So you grab on the nearest thing,
an excerpt or knowledge,
like a drowned swimmer would,
and hope that one day the sea would evaporate,
or drain.
grasping the object,rather obsessively,
like children with their toys,
Your hands are now bleeding,
you've held the object too strong,
but it can not be helped.
So you keep holding on.
you keep holding on, for the sake of living.
you hold on for the sake of sanity.
you hold on for the fear of drowning,
into the deep blue sea.
19.11.08
A tribute to 4E
18/11/08.(yesterday)
The MA4's BIG TALENT SHOW.(I know that's really not the name but yea..xp)
At first, everyone was out of it.and I mean seriously.we were all VERY OUT OF IT..
*Sigh*
In the few early hours, even being after promoted to form 5E, chaos and emotions were high.In a not so good way.Last minute adjustments and reminders were drafted out, Arguments about morale and beliefs, and also about several significant but small details.
All this happened around 9 o'clock.
Wonder how we squeezed in all of those action packed fights and quarrelsome arguments in WHILE cleaning our new yet temporary classroom. ah.well. must be a talent of ours.
After taking care of that, a few selected few went into the audi for sound check and MORE last minute planning and discussion.Then, the moment came, when we would finally see either it was all worth it.All the stay-backs, the death of brain cells, the threat of laryngitis, the sleep lost to thoughts, the arguments proceeded and decisions wavered to and fro.
The moment of redemption over past performances, the high time of over-writing the past and turning a new leaf.
We were the second in line to perform.
On the stage, all were running amok, trying to set up the classroom scene. and even trying to locate the microphones.everybody was nervous,and most feared the repeat disastrous performance of Romeo and Juliet.Swearing was screamed under breath, and all thoughts were focused on getting through the play over and done with.
Quarter way through the play, nerves started to settle and it felt just like practice where it was just us.No audience, No Points, No photographers No judges.
It was just like when we were hanging out in our so called 'e-lit class' where we had our moments both good and bad, where wit and patience were threaded on.It felt like home.
Before I knew it, we were wrapping it up, with a very last minute ending.(xp "the end").
And soon three of the most releived people were at the back, giving hoots of encouragement and claps for all.
We were loud.clapping, laughing and also having a jolly good time.That felt good.Laughing and joking around at the back, watching other plays and listening intently to a certain pianist's song.*cough caroline shie cough*
As the back row squatters, watched other class plays, I started to guess the winners. (Of which I got right for only the 1st place winner). when it was the prize giving ceremony,(at the end lah tu) when they announced the name of the third place prize winner of $40. Jaws dropped, eyes popped and I couldn't help but released a startled shout. ("WHAT?!?!").
We won third place.
We couldn't beleive it..that they had to announce our class was in third place a second time.
That's when it sinked in.We really couldn't beleive it.Well, what at first was actually just a stepping stone for turning a new leaf,was a lead to actual triumph? Wow.
True we just got third place.But at that time, at that moment, for me, that was all I could've asked for.
And so I end this post with a rare gesture from me.
I would like to thank EVERYBODY in 4E.No matter what role they played.Either making props, dishing out ideas, lashing out opinions, acting out the parodies, sounding voices re-eminating through the audi, releasing sound effects and songs from the PA system.for without ALL of you. there would've been no show, No skit.No victory.
True, that others may think we don't deserve it really.but we got it right? we won.We did our best.and we triumphed.
We followed the rules.We played with our strength.We gave them what we had, with joy and determination.And THAT is probably the best reason why we shouldn't look back and ponder about on this date with negative thoughts.We Should look back at this play, this day, this moment with a sense of releif and joy.We made it through.
All of us.As a team.Not as individuals, but as a team.One big dysfunctional humorous clan of deranged friends.
and so this post is for you.
all this words I just wrote are for you.
My fellow classmates.
My friends.
Thank you.
The MA4's BIG TALENT SHOW.(I know that's really not the name but yea..xp)
At first, everyone was out of it.and I mean seriously.we were all VERY OUT OF IT..
*Sigh*
In the few early hours, even being after promoted to form 5E, chaos and emotions were high.In a not so good way.Last minute adjustments and reminders were drafted out, Arguments about morale and beliefs, and also about several significant but small details.
All this happened around 9 o'clock.
Wonder how we squeezed in all of those action packed fights and quarrelsome arguments in WHILE cleaning our new yet temporary classroom. ah.well. must be a talent of ours.
After taking care of that, a few selected few went into the audi for sound check and MORE last minute planning and discussion.Then, the moment came, when we would finally see either it was all worth it.All the stay-backs, the death of brain cells, the threat of laryngitis, the sleep lost to thoughts, the arguments proceeded and decisions wavered to and fro.
The moment of redemption over past performances, the high time of over-writing the past and turning a new leaf.
We were the second in line to perform.
On the stage, all were running amok, trying to set up the classroom scene. and even trying to locate the microphones.everybody was nervous,and most feared the repeat disastrous performance of Romeo and Juliet.Swearing was screamed under breath, and all thoughts were focused on getting through the play over and done with.
Quarter way through the play, nerves started to settle and it felt just like practice where it was just us.No audience, No Points, No photographers No judges.
It was just like when we were hanging out in our so called 'e-lit class' where we had our moments both good and bad, where wit and patience were threaded on.It felt like home.
Before I knew it, we were wrapping it up, with a very last minute ending.(xp "the end").
And soon three of the most releived people were at the back, giving hoots of encouragement and claps for all.
We were loud.clapping, laughing and also having a jolly good time.That felt good.Laughing and joking around at the back, watching other plays and listening intently to a certain pianist's song.*cough caroline shie cough*
As the back row squatters, watched other class plays, I started to guess the winners. (Of which I got right for only the 1st place winner). when it was the prize giving ceremony,(at the end lah tu) when they announced the name of the third place prize winner of $40. Jaws dropped, eyes popped and I couldn't help but released a startled shout. ("WHAT?!?!").
We won third place.
We couldn't beleive it..that they had to announce our class was in third place a second time.
That's when it sinked in.We really couldn't beleive it.Well, what at first was actually just a stepping stone for turning a new leaf,was a lead to actual triumph? Wow.
True we just got third place.But at that time, at that moment, for me, that was all I could've asked for.
And so I end this post with a rare gesture from me.
I would like to thank EVERYBODY in 4E.No matter what role they played.Either making props, dishing out ideas, lashing out opinions, acting out the parodies, sounding voices re-eminating through the audi, releasing sound effects and songs from the PA system.for without ALL of you. there would've been no show, No skit.No victory.
True, that others may think we don't deserve it really.but we got it right? we won.We did our best.and we triumphed.
We followed the rules.We played with our strength.We gave them what we had, with joy and determination.And THAT is probably the best reason why we shouldn't look back and ponder about on this date with negative thoughts.We Should look back at this play, this day, this moment with a sense of releif and joy.We made it through.
All of us.As a team.Not as individuals, but as a team.One big dysfunctional humorous clan of deranged friends.
and so this post is for you.
all this words I just wrote are for you.
My fellow classmates.
My friends.
Thank you.
13.11.08
The 'o' great one.
she sits by the window,
counting cars passing by,
sitting there warming her chair,
grin plastered onto place.
If you were to call her
she would turn her head
and look at you, with
a smile gracing her face.
lighting up the whole of her face,
her surroundings,
and others.
her infectious laugh
and lame jokes,
brings everybody joy.
though I don't think ... she knows.
that she is treasured, that people care.
that she doesn't need to prove anything
that she doesn't need to whole face.
no I don't think you know.
counting cars passing by,
sitting there warming her chair,
grin plastered onto place.
If you were to call her
she would turn her head
and look at you, with
a smile gracing her face.
lighting up the whole of her face,
her surroundings,
and others.
her infectious laugh
and lame jokes,
brings everybody joy.
though I don't think ... she knows.
that she is treasured, that people care.
that she doesn't need to prove anything
that she doesn't need to whole face.
no I don't think you know.
12.11.08
Acceptance.
It is not just smiling when everything's okay.
It is not just laughing over happy moments.
It is not just crying over fights.
It is not just missing the other.
It is not just mere infatuation.
It is not just feeling content.
It is not just feeling lost.
It is so much more than that.
It is acceptance of a whole.
It is patience, in the impossible situations.
It is wit, at the sharpest moments.
It is smile, in the inconsistency.
It is laughter, in the most worst scenario.
It is understanding, in the unbelievable.
It is honesty, through a lie.
It is truth, in the unfaithful.
It is soft, in the harshest environment.
It is there, even when gone.
It is to know you don't have a chance to make it through.
and yet.
hope against fate.
and yet.
still take the leap of faith.
and yet.
still understand the flaws.
and yet.
Love.
Love.
is knowing when to let go.
and accept it.
That is love, of which kind?
I do not know.
It is not just laughing over happy moments.
It is not just crying over fights.
It is not just missing the other.
It is not just mere infatuation.
It is not just feeling content.
It is not just feeling lost.
It is so much more than that.
It is acceptance of a whole.
It is patience, in the impossible situations.
It is wit, at the sharpest moments.
It is smile, in the inconsistency.
It is laughter, in the most worst scenario.
It is understanding, in the unbelievable.
It is honesty, through a lie.
It is truth, in the unfaithful.
It is soft, in the harshest environment.
It is there, even when gone.
It is to know you don't have a chance to make it through.
and yet.
hope against fate.
and yet.
still take the leap of faith.
and yet.
still understand the flaws.
and yet.
Love.
Love.
is knowing when to let go.
and accept it.
That is love, of which kind?
I do not know.
7.11.08
heroes season 3
I WAS SHOCKED.
A few questions running amok in my head... was..
Sylar's good?
Claire is going to be bad?
what does Claire mean she's always Loved Peter?
Nathan and Peter are related to Sylar??
huuhhhh???
O.o..
A few questions running amok in my head... was..
Sylar's good?
Claire is going to be bad?
what does Claire mean she's always Loved Peter?
Nathan and Peter are related to Sylar??
huuhhhh???
O.o..
4.11.08
The Ice Queen.
She steps down Her throne; abruptly,
and whips around like wind,
the sound echoing in your mind.
She screams at you,
shouting your faults and blame,
making your eardrums burst.
you stare at Her mouth,
forming words with the wrong accent,
you smirk inwardly,for She lacked skill.
your face a blank,remains a blank
as She obliges you to
a slap; a resounding snap.
She towers with power,
brandishing blow by blow
with a warrior's scream; as if you were the enemy.
She stops,so you can breathe for regret,
so you can feel for remorse.
Then starts all over again.
you could taste iron,
breathing in the metal taste,you are
tempted to puke,and you do.She screams.
Her weapon, lethal in Her hand
hits you,physically scarring.
as She hovers above your remains,
She whispers in the air,with truth
and certainty.you shiver and kneel,
the whisper carried around in the night.
Her breathless comment,stops your breathing.
you finally feel something in you,
yet you gulp down the lump.
She turns and stalks Her way
to Her throne, and it is as before
with Her.you creep to your prison
and chain yourself with the chain.
And as you lay your head,
Her whispers haunt you,
wide awake in sleep,you lay there.
waiting for another day,
to start all over again-
and whips around like wind,
the sound echoing in your mind.
She screams at you,
shouting your faults and blame,
making your eardrums burst.
you stare at Her mouth,
forming words with the wrong accent,
you smirk inwardly,for She lacked skill.
your face a blank,remains a blank
as She obliges you to
a slap; a resounding snap.
She towers with power,
brandishing blow by blow
with a warrior's scream; as if you were the enemy.
She stops,so you can breathe for regret,
so you can feel for remorse.
Then starts all over again.
you could taste iron,
breathing in the metal taste,you are
tempted to puke,and you do.She screams.
Her weapon, lethal in Her hand
hits you,physically scarring.
as She hovers above your remains,
She whispers in the air,with truth
and certainty.you shiver and kneel,
the whisper carried around in the night.
Her breathless comment,stops your breathing.
you finally feel something in you,
yet you gulp down the lump.
She turns and stalks Her way
to Her throne, and it is as before
with Her.you creep to your prison
and chain yourself with the chain.
And as you lay your head,
Her whispers haunt you,
wide awake in sleep,you lay there.
waiting for another day,
to start all over again-
Ah alack alack.I think I have a writer's block.
Tick Tock;
Hearing the beat.
Like a drum, playing beats
Plotting the way for melody to ensue.
All around her,are noise
so she focuses on the beat:
Swathing ways for her to think;
Through the chaos of her thoughts.
She smiles,her upper lip arching upwards
and teeth meeting the lower,
and chews on it hard; drawing out blood.
Ironic.
Inspiration hits her
and she visibly brightens,
typing a few words,
clicking away.
But:-
then she frowns, biting on her lips
again.her eyebrows rise above the
wavy line of her fringe.nose scrunched.
Mouth pursed in distaste.
She hits a few keys;then
laying back on her chair,
exasperated she sighs.
Unsatisfied.
again she slumps and stares,
at the clock.focusing on the beat,
closing in on it.Desperate;
to find a way out of the writer's block.
goes the clock.
She stares at it;Hearing the beat.
Like a drum, playing beats
Plotting the way for melody to ensue.
All around her,are noise
so she focuses on the beat:
Swathing ways for her to think;
Through the chaos of her thoughts.
She smiles,her upper lip arching upwards
and teeth meeting the lower,
and chews on it hard; drawing out blood.
Ironic.
Inspiration hits her
and she visibly brightens,
typing a few words,
clicking away.
But:-
then she frowns, biting on her lips
again.her eyebrows rise above the
wavy line of her fringe.nose scrunched.
Mouth pursed in distaste.
She hits a few keys;then
laying back on her chair,
exasperated she sighs.
Unsatisfied.
again she slumps and stares,
at the clock.focusing on the beat,
closing in on it.Desperate;
to find a way out of the writer's block.
3.11.08
made on 3-11-2008 4 a.m.
The air was filled with a symphony at work,
it starts
at the wave of her pen,
The first few notes stream line out;
giving out a melody
awkward and soft,
Then comes the point,
where silence rules all.
her pen stops.
she puts the end to her mouth.
she can not taste the ink
slowly seeping
filling her mouth
lulling her senses
but no
what was once known was now unknown
No melody is heard,the beat lost;
it starts
at the wave of her pen,
The first few notes stream line out;
giving out a melody
awkward and soft,
Then comes the point,
where silence rules all.
her pen stops.
she puts the end to her mouth.
she can not taste the ink
slowly seeping
filling her mouth
lulling her senses
but no
what was once known was now unknown
No melody is heard,the beat lost;
for now-
1.11.08
what we don't need.
When did being broken become a good thing? I’ve noticed, recently, how many people are famous because they were broken people once and “fixed themselves”. Or how many books are about broken childhoods, how many people claim they care “about all of the broken people out there”.
They say it with tears running down their faces, but there is this smile on their face. Not a smile of peace or forgiveness, though. It is the same smile they use when they talk about their wife having a baby or their newest book.
If they only knew, they wouldn’t smile like that. But, perhaps, they would still cry. It wouldn’t matter if they did. We don’t need their tears.
New Blog New posts.
This is a new blog since my old blog is precurring such a long scene of being stubborn.I have resolved to a new (and hopefuly better) blog.:).as you may see.I posted old posts from my Other blog here.but after this post.I swear it'll all be new.ja mata.;)
yours truly
qeel
yours truly
qeel
Beep.
White walls.White floor.
White door.White People.
A building filled with white.
Has a white room.
No Sunshine shone throught the shiny windows.
No sound of happiness could be heard.
No rumbles of laughter.
No Sight of a smile.
Just a monotone of a beep.
Weak,faint.but there.
Feeble and unstable.
There.
Annoying beep.
Inconsistent.
Irritable.
There.
The beep;a welcoming sound.
White door.White People.
A building filled with white.
Has a white room.
No Sunshine shone throught the shiny windows.
No sound of happiness could be heard.
No rumbles of laughter.
No Sight of a smile.
Just a monotone of a beep.
Weak,faint.but there.
Feeble and unstable.
There.
Annoying beep.
Inconsistent.
Irritable.
There.
The beep;a welcoming sound.
Tempted.
“What do you do when you’re standing on a precipice with nowhere to go but down? If I fall, if I surrender myself to the rain, the chill, the night… who will catch me?”
Faith in a friend.
Faith is nonsensical by nature, and foolhardy.
Faith is a belief that does not rest on logical proof, and until one understand that such is possible, one will never be able to move forward.
But faith in a friend, is not ridiculous.
Have Faith.
Faith is a belief that does not rest on logical proof, and until one understand that such is possible, one will never be able to move forward.
But faith in a friend, is not ridiculous.
Have Faith.
A hardcore romantic's Quotes.
You laugh because I'm different; I laugh because you're all the same
To the world your just one person but to one person you could mean the world
Our eyes are placed in front because it is more important to look ahead than to look back
Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened
Everyone is entitled to be stupid but you are abusing that privilege
Did the sun just come out or did you just smile at me?
There's a light at the end of every tunnel, just pray it's not a train.You know your in love when the hardest thing to say is goodbye.
Love is ... Running into his arms, Colliding with his heart, And exploding into his soul.
831-8 letters, 3 words, 1 meaning, I love you
Lust Is When You Love What You See. Love Is When You Lust For What's Inside
The "WHY" post.
"Why? WHY? WHY?!"
Ms Ani went on parade withe the "whys" today. She said by repeating the word signals the evergrowing anger or frustration.why ? why...? then she blabbered about something about the poem But I zoned out.
I don't know why. Ms Ani but I zoned out.
My imagination went overdrive (questions and answers popped into my brain) :
Why is he repeating "wherefore"?
Coz he ran out of other fancy words to stun the world with.
Why do you talk w/o thinking?
Coz all of my Brain Cells are denatured.
Why are you grinning?
Coz my sanity is still missing
Why aren't you thinking?
Like I said MY BRAIN CELLS ARE DEAD.
Why was he rebellious?
Coz he wanted to be an emo.but back then they didn't have spikes and mascara for guys.
Why are you snickering?
Coz I can make that sound seem more sinister.
Why are you all smiling?
Coz we want you to run out of our classroom like a madwoman.
Why are you all groaning?
Coz we can see a pole jutting out of your butt.
and many more. indecent.remarks.
A/n: Okay.I am seriously tempted to make a new "why" post.
Ms Ani went on parade withe the "whys" today. She said by repeating the word signals the evergrowing anger or frustration.why ? why...? then she blabbered about something about the poem But I zoned out.
I don't know why. Ms Ani but I zoned out.
My imagination went overdrive (questions and answers popped into my brain) :
Why is he repeating "wherefore"?
Coz he ran out of other fancy words to stun the world with.
Why do you talk w/o thinking?
Coz all of my Brain Cells are denatured.
Why are you grinning?
Coz my sanity is still missing
Why aren't you thinking?
Like I said MY BRAIN CELLS ARE DEAD.
Why was he rebellious?
Coz he wanted to be an emo.but back then they didn't have spikes and mascara for guys.
Why are you snickering?
Coz I can make that sound seem more sinister.
Why are you all smiling?
Coz we want you to run out of our classroom like a madwoman.
Why are you all groaning?
Coz we can see a pole jutting out of your butt.
and many more. indecent.remarks.
A/n: Okay.I am seriously tempted to make a new "why" post.
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