Woo hoo

After about half an hour of tweaking the code and adjusting, then painstakingly pasting everything in, I am done! I have changed the blogskin! What a fucking wonderful achievement!

Don't you think it looks like Still Doll's PV?

Yes, I know Christmas is long and (sadly) over, too long over with for a really late wishlist. But one can hope ot receive last-minute gifts, right?

Haha.

Anyway, I've set my eye on Anna Sui's Secret Wish perfume (I know I may be too young to wear it, but who cares, it's not harmful experimenting anyway). Besides, I like the bottle and the colour. And it's expensive, the 75ml bottle going for about $90+ on retail counters (Ho damn!).

I wonder if there's any post-Christmas sales? I wanna buy it!

I just realised something.

As I read through all the poems I've written (majority of which were when I was a pretentious lady at sec 1) I've just realised how...innocent and childish they were.

Okay, now you ask me, what I was doing reading those?

I was preparing my portfolio in advance for CAP since we'd need to hand it in in by the end of January. Last year, I was too stupid to know that the portfolio is NOT a random compilation of works, rather, it shows a progression, an order. Humans love order so much, they must see a pattern somewhere.

Anyway, back to what I was saying.

I've realised how dark my pieces have been lately. Instead of getting better and dealing with my depression, have I gotten worse? Maybe it's because with company of friends I just come to feel how lonely it is to be alone. It's not a fear of being alone, it's a fear of what I may do when I'm alone, what I will become and how I will react. I'm afraid I'll go insane without people watching me and covering my back. My thoughts and paranoia will disturb and bug me in the moments when I'm alone, rather like a psychological disorder, and I'm scared.

So maybe that's why my pieces have been darker lately. Thye always tell you to reflect in life, but don't reflect too much, because thinking too much might be adverse and you'll come to feel how wickedly cruel the world is.

I had decided on a theme for my portfolio (unlike last year, it was a complete fiasco, no wonder I didn't get chosen) and given it some form of order. I now realise I seriously, desperately need some happy pieces in my gallery to balance the portfolio. Yes, my so-called 'specialty' is focusing on exploring the darkest sides within us, but I think I've neglected the light.

My theme is 'humanity'. What does it mean to be human? I've got a foreword prepared and everything (except for the artwork...do I get it displayed like Songs of Innocence?) and now I have a grand total of five pieces picked out from my allery of 40+ pieces. Pathetic, I know. How can my friends read those self-obssessed drivel and say it's good? I'm ashamed of (some of them!). Some of the poetry was just downright odd. There was no meter or rhythm, and it felt...weird. Not like how good poetry should feel, good poetry should connect with the soul, bad poetry is pretentious and full of descriptives and words and half-completed thoughts.

Surprisingly, I found 'Insecure' okay, even though the rhythm was weird, and yadda yadda english lit terms I know my audience is not interested in. I liked the spirit and childhood positiveness within it, even if you look carefully, the choice of words seem to contradict each other...But I really felt it was similar to the passage in 3A Higher Chinese textbook, 梦痕. The feeling was right down pat...it's not exactly positive and sunshine and flowers, but it's factual, like the child knows that childhood is coming to an end and he/she wants to treasure it as much as possible, even as a memory, although the innocence and natural psychological protection a child has is being slowly diseased by the world.

I really pick too mature topics...-.-

However the transition was rather bumpy, I felt. Right now, the order is as follows (Note that the text beside the title of the piece are my thoughts on the theme):

#1: Insecure
-Childhood, loss of innocence, insercurity, fear of future, anticipation.

#2: Waiting : Young/teen love, Sweetness/innocence of first love, self-doubt, man’s effect on man, patience/adoration in love, trust, Hope/fear for the future.

(Proposed transition: Curiosity, descendsion into darkness, lust)

(Proposed piece after transtition, Mistress of Seduction)

#3:The Other end of Mirrors: Maturity, self image, hurt, mutilation, flaws, perception “Your preperator isn’t what you think it is…it’s you.’

(Proposed insertion of Happy theme?)(on a sidenote, better not, so that the person will sound more bitter/cynical, as is the tone of the next piece)

#4: Cry in the rain: Hurt/comfort, coming to terms with the world, acceptance, HUMANITY, flaws.

#5: Complication
-Humanity, man’s inhumanity to man, the characteristics of man, self-destruction, hope, salvation, change.

(Proposed another happy, somewhat tame, calm piece)

#6: Passing (tentative)
Death, tranquility

You see? It's bumpy! From a foreword to childhood-adolescent stage, then a lovestruck teen with first love and whatever crap, then suddenly she sprouts into a person suffering from some weird disorder! Then she undergoes a depression stage, followed by acceptance, a re-rendition of human faults, and then acceptance and determination for change, then she dies!

I think the period between the second and third act is just weird. There's no transition at all! No transition pieces!!! RAWR!

I feel so sorry for my poor characters. Sorry, characters! You know I love you! Come here, lemme give y'all a hug -snuggles-

*Audience give o.0 look*

There should be some happiness in the book to balance it out! I don't want my children (ahem, sorry, I think of the characters I create as 'children'...weird yeah I know) to have miserable lives!

Damn. I need 3 more works. MUSE, ARE YOU LISTENING?!

And yes, there is a reason for posting this up. I need feedback. ASAP. And don't steal my theme or I will kill you, and I will do it slowly but painfully (more ways to now, after the research on the Spanish Inquistition).

Oh yeah, I'm thinking of changing the name of a piece, namely mistress of seduction, to something more...factual. Like, 'whore'. It does not glamorise anything.Ah! What about 'lady of the evening'? It's an english slang for prostitue! Very appropriate and honest! Fits the image too...with women all wanting rich men, literally whoring themselves to slave over a man just to get his fortune.

'Streetwalker' is also appropraite, almost ironic: A woman, obviously poorer/desiring wealth, has to walk streets to 'sink claws' into numerous guys to get them to part with their money...

Possibilities.

I searched the o Great and glorious thesaurus for a synonym to the word 'blunder', and look what it came up with! Boner!

Indeed, it is a blunder to have a boner in front of a sensual woman who happens to be a feminist... *snickers*

Boner! Doncha get it? *big, idiotic grin*

*stares at uncomprehending, innocent readers who haven't been exposed, whether accidental or not, to the world of erotic literature/cheap and tawdry romances*

Never mind.

P.S. In case you don't know, a boner is an erection. Yes, I mean that in the sickest, most perverse way possible. In a hey-babe-let's-do-it-now way.

Today I was abruptly woken up from my scant sleep by the idiotic construction workers. 靠！令我超不爽！

死建筑工人每天都吵死人，从年终考试前开始吵到现在。还好现在没有像刚开始一样，从早到晚一直‘砰砰砰‘，差点害我不能集中精神，无法好好读书，还好可以考出不错的成绩，不然恐怕会对这些臭建筑工人‘记仇’！

不知道为什么一旦生气失球或用华语骂人--- 感觉还蛮好啊！但是还比不上英文，因为我英文水平比较好，会用的词汇比较多，骂人时句子十分通顺，而且不必怕发音有错误！

Stupid construction workers! I friggin' hate them and their employers! WHY do they want to ruin the restful festive with their drills and hammers and their crude voices? I have insomnia, and every time I fall asleep with difficulty, I am woken up by these asswipes! And it's not just the holidays-- it started way before that, like 3 weeks before SA2. They produced such a hubbub it was quite difficult to concentrate in my room and remember all my notes!

However, thanks to them I have become more apt at visualising torture scenes in my head, which involve a drill literally drilling the brains out of a man in a protective helmet, a hammer smashing the skulls of many, and a spade...what can a spade do? Whack them in the genitals repeatedly until they fall off?

Not a bad idea.

During this course of time, I had cursed them to Hell and back, with numerous illnesses and diseases befalling them (don't spread your disgusting maladies to us Singaporeans!). After one hour of trying to fall asleep in the noise, I decided to give up and go down for breakfast.

What is it with foreign helpers and precise instructions? When you respond to "What do you want to eat?" with a "I don't know," they proceed to ignore you and your hunger, making you have to get it yourself.

So you want precise instructions? Fine. I want a mocha, expressly brewed with ITALIAN espresso, not black coffee, not french roast, not Arabian beans, but ITALIAN roast, with precisely ONE shot of it with warm milk swilled with foam (those foam made by baristas, YES there is a technique in making it), with a tablespoon's worth of quality chocolate, not Cadbury's or MnM's, but Godiva. Oh, and don't forget that espresso gets 'stale' after about 30 seconds, so you might want to make the foam, boil the milk and dissolve the chocolate.

And that's only the drink, my dear.

For the solid food I would like a Boulangère Breakfast Sandwich, which is a Crusty French baguette toasted with cheese and omelette style eggs . And that's all for today.

Too difficult? Can't fiond the ingredients? That when I say 'I don't know', it's synonymous with 'I don't really care what I want to eat, as long as you make something it's fine', therefore you have the choice! Oh glorious, blessed choices! You have the freedom to make salads, sandwiches, or just plain buttered bread. But if I dictated, you'll have no choice but to make whatever I want.

Geez.

I can't stand people with lower intelligence, responding to every question with an 'I don't know'. To illustrate this point, allow me to show you a typical scene:

Me: Have you seen my USB data cable?
Her: I don't know...
Me: What's for lunch?
Her: I don't know.
Me: Where did the dress I bought go? Is it st ill in the laundry?
Her: I don't know.

Yes, my dear, the whole point of asking you these questions is to KNOW the answer, not have my question/query/motive in asking the question reiterated. If you answer every damn question with an 'I don't know', I might as well save my breath and don't ask, or you can stop messing up my stuff and lete me organise them myself, because then you'll misplace my assignments and self-initiated projects with my school stuff, and reply to my furious quesitons with 'I don't know'. How much do you nopt know, I wonder? Are you so happily oblivious to everything occuring around you? So if I asked you on precisely what date Indonesia started Konfrontasi, or the current president of Malaysia, will you not know as well?

Despite your apparent need for instructions, you don't seem to follow them. FRENCH toast is different from toast, just like how a desktop PC is different form a laptop, and a postbox different from a post card. One part of the word may be the same, and have the same pronunciation, but they are completely different, just like how Chardonnay wines are different from Pinet Noir!

RAWR! Why can't some get that?! Is the difference between french toast and toast so abstract, arcane and confusing?

Nightmare.

And you thought staying back at 2:15 was unreasonable. Well, I managed to get my hands on the 2007 timetable (and I think it was the more reasonable one, because at one point of time I remember us sec 1s staying back at 2:15) and for sec 3, EVERYONE gets off at 2:15.

Except RP, where there is one day which ends at 3:15.

FUCK.

I hate CCHMS. Why do they have to make us end so late? At this rate, we might as well not eat lunch, since recess is at 10:55, and lessons end at 2:15, and those of us who eat at the canteen, good for you. Those of us who eat at home, it's fucking 3 or 4 plus when you arrive home to eat. Assuming you eat dinner at 7, you won't be hungry at all, thus you'll eat less.

And let's not forget extension weeks and supplementary classes, and SPA.

That means next year, in addition to not getting early holidays (= getting off at October), we will have to begin our holidays LATE. Is this why they have been releasing us early? To compensate for the times we have to stay back in our upper sec time?

And it's not practical! Thin about it: Sec 3 and 4 are the times you have to make the most effort. If school ends at 2:15 (2:30 for some obnoxious ones, and no supp. class), then the walk to the bus is 15 mins, and if you don't buy waffles/bubble tea(highly unlikely, since you'll be hungry), you'll have to wait for the bus to come (5 minutes), then the time to arrive home (in my case, 20 minutes), eat (20 minutes), bathe (30 minutes), prepare to do homework (10 minutes blow-drying), then total time spent will be: 1 hr 40 mins. If you get let off at 2:15, 1 hr 40 mins from then will be 3:55, and you'll work your arse off (as if school wasn't hard enough) till say, 6:45, eat dinner, go up and work your arse off till midnight, sleep, and then the whole cycle begins WITHOUT A BREAK.

KNN.

I assume there won't be any holidays at all, since the March, June, September and December holidays we'll have to stay back for SPA, supp. class, lectures, CCAs, insert academia-related crap.

ARGH.

You know what CCHMS? I really like your lake and the people I met there, but I don't think we match. I want to be free from restrictions and knock off early so I can perform my best without feeling the crunch, and enjoy my breaks as I feel I deserve it fro all the supp. classes, advanced material, especially if I'm taking 9 subjects, not counting arts and PE and whatever have you. We are incompatible, and I suppose it's too late to transfer.

*sticks up huge middle finger*

WHY did I go here??? WHY???

My English standards are dropping, and my Chinese is no better off, I have no interest in the Chinese culture (esp. tea making), and I really hate the deficit equipment we have, if you can call the rusted chunk equipment. The speed of our computers can rival a snail's pace, and a principal who can barely string 3 sentences together without making a pronunciation/grammar mistake is just the icing on the fcking cake.

Add that to teachers who are incoherent, and pretentious IB classes, with pointless classes like ACC, where I'd doubt anyone in modern Singapore will want to engage in discourse whether the last Tang emperor was an asswipe. Unless you plan to be a curator, I doubt you will need to know Chinese history. Why can't we learn other things, like, oh I don't know, social sciences, formal dances, how to interact with others (yes we have an interaction period, pretty stupid that one is). Instead of art, can't we choose what TYPE of art we want: Writing, digital interface, vectors, traditional?

But noo, even though our school occupies a lot of land and sits in the middle of virtually nowhere, we are too poor to even afford to fix the defunct toilets, install working fans, replace that rusty nail and fix those electrical outlets. We have cleaners, but unfortunately they seem to be unable to remove a cockroach's body from the front of the classroom, and we would have to do it ourselves. What is the point of having cleaners if the students have to clean themselves? They would just be a bunch of slobs skulking the hallways pretending to do something, and earning money doing nothing. I would like to add that the toilets aren't exactly clean either-- if there ARE cleaners, I wonder if that used sanitary pad should still be perching innocently on top of a stall gathering flies?

And let's not talk about to 'Grand' Auditorium, for I have ranted about it many times. Are they so cheapstake not to have air-conditioning? If they want to comment about the use of electricity, FINE. Then don't organise assemblies! Don't even open the school!

Stupid cheapstake school. You'd think that this isn't Singapore but some emerging country. They can afford to run a Bazaar (and run up losses), they can afford an iCafe (insignificant, doesn't even LOOK like one, it looks like those carts giving out soup and stuff to the refugees in Cambodia) but they can't afford to fix the fans (one unhinged one apparently just broke off and flew around the classroom, no one was beheaded) and tiles of the toilet?!

Curb the bloody wasteful spending already (please no excursions or extra lessons not in curriculum), for it is more important to be safe and comfy at school without outdoor learning as compared to having a dingy, ratty school but plenty of excursions right?

Oh, and please, mind your grammar. I BEG OF YOU, IF YOU CAN'T SPEAK ENGLISH PROPERLY, DON'T HOLD LONG SPEECHES TO TORTURE OUR POOR EARS! 'TIS AN INSULT TO ENGLISH!

Done ranting.

I learnt that the main female character for Fruits Basket and Vampire Knight are quite similar as they start out all innocent and girly.

No wonder I didn't like Yuki much.

Apparently, the male leads are the same (Kyo and Zero) as they are both reticent and laconic. The tough guy image. Although I recall positively abhorring Kyo and thinking that he was just a Typical Shoujo Manga Bishie, I kinda liked Zero. Must be the fact that he's a vampire, has fangs, a gun and drinks HUMAN blood. Yum.

This only goes to show the extent of my obssession with vampires. o.0

Anyway, I listened to Vampire Knight OST today! All music pieces -- no lyrics or songs. It was a nice change. That's another reason why the Japanese rock (not in WWII, but no point digging up old wounds) - they are amazingly atristic and creative in their arranging of OST! I've read that some netizens think Vampire Knight is similar to Twilight...and come to think of it, why the heck didn't I notice?!!

Well, it just goes to show my obssession with REAL vampires that don't sparkle and actually drink human blood. And blood and murder and gore. Yay.

But! The soundtracks were different! The English people love putting whiny songs/sentimental ones that make absolutely no sense in this vampire romance. Urgh. Vampire Knight is better in my opinion because of the creepiness the music eludes (what is the style called? Dark ambience? Dunno) and the sheer mystery of it. I felt that the character's themes were very well done, particularly the males, a.k.a. Kuran Kaname (even if I hated the beginning of the piece) and Zero. Yuuki's was just to happy and innocent, with a subtle grace, but at least 'recollection' managed to salvage her image. I felt that 'recollection' was better than her theme song...it expressed what she was : her two sides.

There was some normalacy in the tracks: Ordinary Day Class, Usual Life (which sounded quite pink-panther like) and Everyday Affairs.

One track which was a letdown was 'Heart-rendering sorrow'. It was just too typical, there was absolutely no effect on me, it felt as if it was gilded in pink and bows as it walked off a typical horrid shoujo manga. I didn't feel the sorrow, I felt the cliches.

And that ends my unexpected review of the VK OST.

I want a hug. Pronto.

...

Why is it that only Chinese passages can stir so much emotion from me? The last week was an essay on how all teachers should be respected and kids not allowed to comment even though they're absolutely useless. That elicited fury and ire, as well as mild irritation at the naivete and bias of the author.

This week's passage is about books. Literature. How a good book is like a good friend, never changing, always there for you in your lowest lows.

I disagree. How can friends remain unchanged? People change all the time, and yes I did change. Some people change for the better, causing the friendship to be stronger. Others change for the worse, causing tattered strings of friendship lying in the wake of photographs and deleted reminders.

I don't know. Maybe husbands and wives don't change overnight. Perhaps the logic of this statement is all about honesty: If a person was honest and revealed their true selves, there won't be much changing, and if there's any change, you'll change together, causing the effect of disorientation to be negated.

But people change. Everyone changes. So please don't tell me 'Friends Forever' next time, because forever, well, it isn't eternity is it? Forever transcends human time and memories, it goes beyond human lifespans and remembrances of promises. Don't give me hope, I'd rather live without any. If you choose to dispense such genorosity, keep to your promise.

Friends Forever. Just a catchphrase of the moment, the appeal to another's heart, the abosolute certainity in that short span of your human existence. Something you utter, like 'I love you', but don't really mean it. How many times have you said it to others? How many times was it scrawled in a foetal position, clawing at a yearbook?

My friends now may not be my friends in the future, we'll be nothing more than strangers in the vast world of human faces. Another name of the past, another significance in my development, but nothing solid, just wisps of memories to last us. In the end, we're left with nothing. Someday we might grow old and even forget kith and kin. Nothing. We have nothing.

...Unless you're rich enough to afford luxurious healthcare and a nice funeral, but how much of it can you take with you? Chance are that you'll be too heady with the various medicines to notice the enviroment you're in. Whether you're living in gold with leather sofas and Godiva chocolates or in the sewer, it makes no difference when you're knocking at death's door. You are not rich or poor, man or woman, white, black, gay, stupid, insane-- no labels. You are just the dying, or the dead.

Nothing. We all expunge from memories.

This is how I will die. This is how you will die. Alone.

Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate. (Abandon all hope, ye who enter here).

You might want to make a quick escape from the depression of my words, for I might very well drive you insane. Go.

Outing @ Orchard road: If you see 4 people, one with incredibly fat arms dressed in black and boots (yup that's me) and one really unbelivably pretty Hui Ting (she should really wear skirts more often) monkeying around Clarke Quay and pulling weird poses, that's us. Ooh, we walked along Orcahrd to take photos too.

Yay. Had fun today, and for once I wasn't bored at all! The outing went smoothly without a hitch, except in the beginning where two people with death wishes ran lateand kept me waiting...and I HATE waiting.

*Stares pointedly at the people trying to shrink into the floor*

Thanks for putting up with my weird ideas though.

...In religion and the church.

Not to say for a lack of courage, because to me it feels as if the church does NOT unite people, it unites others against a certain principle 'just because the bible says so, it's wrong.'

What am I talking about?

Proposition 8 in America: (Even though it has passed) Legalization of gay marriages.

Have you seen people protesting? Yes, I bet you did in Cambodia, splashed over newspapers. What about hordes of people opposing the civil union of two very much in love people, some even saying that 'God will throw your ass in Hell.'? Placards with offensive messages scrawled over them: God hates fags, God hates lying sinners, etc.?

You may not be open-minded enough to accept homosexuals, and may have a certain...conservative-ness about you. But are we going to allow ourselves to be tied down by the words of some ancient text revered and amazingly recorded over milleniums ago and follow them word-by-word?

This is the quote from the bible in several published versions, assuming that there is a chance for translating error:

New International Version, first published in 1978: "Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; that is detestable."
King James Version, first published in 1982: "Thou shalt not lie with mankind as with womankind: it is abomination."
New English Translation, first published in 2005: "You must not have sexual intercourse with a male as one has sexual intercourse with a woman; it is a detestable act." -Leviticus 18:22

So? No objections, you say.

What about this?

"I do not let women teach. I do not let them have authority over men. They must be quiet." -1 Timothy 2: 12 (New International Reader's Version)

The first thing that went through my mind was WHAT THE FUCK?! followed by 干你妈！！！Ahem.

Then many people across the globe must be mortal sinners right now because of the leadership of women which is apparently deletrious to you pious and anal retentive men. RAWR!

And Xinyi, I know what you are going to say in defense of the bible, but I REFUSE to follow a religion that blinds its followers and has a history of violence and 'religious wars'. Starting a war is stupid enough, to do it because of 'religion' and 'God says that this country is pagan, therefore it is your perogative to purge the country' is...puerile.

You don't know what I'm talking about? Look it up at Wikipedia, the Spanish Inquistition. The boycott of Jews. The abominations that are torture weapons used.

"As for your male and female slaves whom you may have--you may acquire male and female slaves from the pagan nations that are around you. 'Then, too, it is out of the sons of the sojourners who live as aliens among you that you may gain acquisition, and out of their families who are with you, whom they will have produced in your land; they also may become your possession." -Leviticus 25:44-45. (New American Standard Bible)

Hostility towards a foreign race based on misunderstanding. Imagine, for a moment, that our whole Chinese population are religious zealots who steadfastly follows every word of the bible. Then what about other races such as the muslims and Hindus? Do we deface their temples and enslave them? Human beings constiture as property, so they deserved to be herded around like cattle and brought out to display on ice like fish. Is that what we do to them?

Fuck you if you agree. I hope you become a slave in your next life. I give you my middle finger salute.

"Withhold not from a youth chastisement, When thou smitest him with a rod he dieth not. Thou with a rod smitest him, And his soul from Sheol thou deliverest." - Proverbs 23:13-14 (Young's Literal Translation)

Well, that explains why Silas keeps injuring himself (really badly too, with that spiked whip) and creating slashes and drawing blood and revelling in pain for it is deliverance. But jokes aside, you can see the gravity of this statement.

For those who are not familiar with Shakespearean language, try your best to decode. I'm assuming 'Sheol' would be hell or pugartory or whatever dimension filled with horrors lie?

I suppose it can be interpreted as the famous saying: spare the rod and spoil the child. So if the said child commits an act the holy and glorious bible deems to be wrong, the parent is suppose to punish them (physically, judging from the context), for when beaten with a rod he does not die, and when beaten, his soul is somehow miraculously delivered from this place called Sheol.

What kind of moralistic society (kinda reminds me of the people in To Kill A Mockingbird) will beat sense into a child so that the child will obey, not because he or she has distinguished between right and wrong, but just to eschew another beating? Who would beat their child into submission and fear of God? It's the equivalent of an abusive husband beating his broken wife...except infinitely more harmful to the child's development. And this is blatant child abuse. To justify beating a child (CHILD mind you, not a teen, a child is 1 - 12 years old) as morally right as you are helping them to deliver their souls away from the devil? It's like torturing the insane in hope to cure them (and that really did happen before sometime in the annals of history).

--

It is mainly passages from the Old Testament that promote slavery, sexism, child-abuse, polygamy, genocide, and other vices now that were considered virtues in their day. One argument is that when Jesus died on the cross the believer's sins were covered by blood that granted forgiveness and began a new covenant that made the laws of the old obsolete, as can be interpreted by reading Hebrews 8: 8-13. However, in the book of Matthew, chapter 5 after Christ's resurrection, in verses 17-18 Jesus says, "Don't assume that I came to destroy the Law or the Prophets. I did not come to destroy but to fulfill. For I assure you: Until heaven and earth pass away, not the smallest letter or one stroke of a letter will pass from the law until all things are accomplished." (Holman Christian Standard Bible)

Now, we could still suppose I am misinterpreting that verse. Jesus supposedly died two thousand years ago. Why is it that less than two hundred ago, in 1865 when Congress passed the 13th Amendment that abolished slavery, were people were still quoting those same scriptures to justify keeping their black slaves? One could say that those people were misguided, that the Bible was written for a different time, when it was culturally acceptable to do those things; that the Old Testament is not used by Christians for laws we must live by, and that it is basically just a history book. In that case, my argument that there are no moral grounds for condemning homosexuality still stands since the book in which it is prohibited, Leviticus, is from the Old Testament. (Aha Xinyi that's the final book which never made it to conventional bibles).

You can read the article I got most of my evidence from. This essay is BRILLIANT in source quoting and persuasion. Quite factual too as multiple sources have been compared. And, if you're competent in History, you will know that inferring with evidence plus conclusion makes a powerful argument.

http://andalitebandit-6.deviantart.com/art/The-Morality-of-Homosexuality-77069502

Too pissed to write anymore. I refuse to want to join the church.

And those who say that I am misguided/worship the devil, please stop sticking to sterotypes to substantiate your argument. It is an argument fallacy, attacking a person because that person has something undesirable, therefore whatever he/she believes in is unjustified. Go hide in your church and believe in lies, cover-ups and hasty glamours. I don't want to live in a lie that is more corrupted than this world is anymore.

When I'm legally an adult, I'm walking out of the church.

P.S. To fellow Christians and Catholics:

It is still your decision whether you want to join. Maybe you can make the church a better place than it was in the past, but you cannot erase facts of the past. Anyone who commits (esp. in a business) will check the reputation of the other party before making any promises. I'm checking, and I don't like what I see, therefore I am against the joining of the church body. It is not to say that ALL of you are misguided, you have the power to make the decision, I am merely baring its ugly past to you. However you react is purely your choice. If it pleases you, go ahead and join, but please don't close your minds to other possibilities and follow the bible blindly.

//New piece//

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like it I died. What the world would be. Would it be a better world unburdened by one less person? Would the natural resources be indented by one less usage? Would my friends still be able to smile and go through the motions of their everyday life without having met me, without needing me, without thinking about me? Would the registration of births be less of one obscure name, and my name leaving the breaths of teachers and classmates, perhaps dwelling in the fringes of subconsciousness and imagination?

Perhaps, perhaps...This world is bereft of too many possibilities, too many phantom children lurking and scattering around hospital rooms, their ghostly faces buried in the thighs of the ones who abandoned them under sterile white lights and a sea of rubbery red.

But I came into existence. Perhaps once a joy to behold, a cuddly adorable bundle, an angel with wings torn as she fell from grace into earthlings' arms. In the shadows of my eyelids, I sometimes see remnants of a past life with colours and white, ivory and shimmering voices, then I open it, and everything reverts back to monochrome hues with their tongues twirled and laved over the eyes of humans.

These humans only talk about figures and numbers, roman numerals formulated in early days to count the trillions of stars hanging in chalk dust over our heads, to count the smiles and occasions memorable to the human mind, to stare in astonishment as the numbers swelled and unravelled and folded in itself in magic. Then the numbers took over the minds of humans, when meeting someone, they no longer ask, "What's your favourite colour?" or murmur adoration into the crook of another's ear, they ask, "How many cars do you have?", "What's your monthly bonus?", "How many siblings/children do you have?", and "How much did you spend?".

I think as I walk along the weary grey road, what would happen if I died today? Perhaps there would be one less person to require an education and one less person to tax, one less identity to peruse and maybe, just maybe, one less person to spend money on? Would anyone come to my funeral to say their epitaphs and place flowers on my niche, or would my ashes be gone with the wind and left to roam? Perhaps no more expenses for one female but the obsequies and the priest, and the cremation. Would anyone mourn for me and recount my virtues, or would they throw oil on my picture and disfigure the altar? Would my parents be upset and feel a twinge in their hearts and the zing of blood piercing their arteries and veins; or would they feel the surge of air leaving their twined lips in a gust of relief?

Guilt and pain hobbled along the rivers and tunnels of my life streams, cannonballs clashing and exploding the powder and the empty forces of a lacuna. I sit in front of the mirror and smile at my reflection, and no-one, not even my reflection, sees the two cretin hanging and dripping off the crevices of my smile and the blanket crease of my facial muscles. No-one can see the expensive spheres I pop into gouged-out sockets and grease with eye drops to look like tears, and the rigidity of my hugs, all of it is apparent, only in the darkness and the whispers of others ceasing when I face them, my inadequacy, my lacerations in my war with myself and my distorted soul edging and corroding with every bit of darkness imbibed in me.

Sometimes I open heavy crusted eyelids, creaking like ancient treasure chests and my quondam zest scrabbling at the ruins of my aging body and I'm awake, even though I think I have died in my sleep, I have died somewhere, somehow, and I don't know if I really have died. It's a change in state, the opening of another door for which the living is ineligible to enter, the perceptible shift in consciousness and the whoosh of breath jerked from your lungs, the one lass jitter of a heartbeat, and a still soliloquy in whiteness. But I still jerk from the dream, jerk from the death where I triumph, yet sometimes I speculate that it's a just a stalemate.

And until my Queen is won and my King trapped, I'm in the feathery realms of existence, there's one more person to spend on, one more friend and family member, one more burden to the world, and until then, I am alive...

and awaiting redemption.

---

Whew. I feel better after writing that. It's like my emotional burdens were unloaded.

And yes, I did have a dream about dying. I don't know why, but one day when I was around 6 I woke up and thought that my life was an endless dream. Up till this day, I still don't know whether I am fully alive or dead...I feel dead and empty though. Only the negative emotions get me. I may be suffering from light depression, and I seriously have to stop diagnosing every person I meet with possible mental illnesses or I might just drive myself insane with paronoia.

Shit I have to do my work now. Bye.

Yeah! I finally purchased my boots!

Waiting had been so worth it....I'm glad I didn't splurge my reward (for getting into RP) on the $60+ boots in the mall. I got my new pair for only $39.90! (Yeah, I know it's $40 but shaddup, it's a $20 difference...enough to buy me another bottle of L'Oreal Professionnel conditoner.)

And the design was so much better than the one in the mall...even though it's (the new boots) are probably made out of low quality materials (the white ballet flats I bought there for $10 spoilt after one month plus). But it's better than the horrible lacey ribboned pink monstrosity at BATA *shudders in revulsion* even if it's only $30+.

And yes, in the world of boots, $30 is considered fucking cheap...unless you're looking for spoilt second hand goods/not very nice designs.

Just like how in wanting to dress like a lolita, $40 for a BLOUSE and pannier and skirt and headgear and acessories can set you back about a good $500.

But if you buy the jumper set (blouse and skirt sewn on, gothic lolita) it's about $120 or $130 at the cheapest, say...Anna House.

And the most expensive, Baby, The Stars Shine Bright (sweet lolita fashion)....let's say it's better not to know for you might get into paroxysms of shock.

Therefore right now, lolita fashion is kinda out of my budget right now T.T The economic crisis ain't helping any.

I have the acessories and the stockings (no pannier or bloomers yet though)...including a small costume crown for hime lolita or punk lolita from my aunt's wedding...

I wonder if you pair an ordinary black tiered dress with a victorian blouse, will you be considered a 'gothic lolita'? Hmmm... I don't have any mary janes right now, so I suppose I can use my boots.

I don't know how I can digress so egregiously...anyway the point is, I love boots! But my parents do have a point-- it makes the feet excessively warm.

Ah well.

But as long as I like it, who cares? Ballet flats make my toes ache because they press down at the joints. And it scrapes my achilles' heel. Although the designs are cute and it's the 'in' thing to wear ballet flats, I hate it. And it pops out so much that I have to constantly flatten my toes to keep it on! Even a size 36 is too big for me.

Besides, this rule is kinda superficial...if something makes you uncomfy, don't wear it. In that case, bras are constructed out of thick material, especially the pads and the underwire digs into my ribs. Since it's so hot, can I go without my bra? Oh, while you're at it, since I like a breeze near my privates, can I go without undies?

...

Yeah, I know that some of you by this point are either shaking your head in disgust or laughing your way out of the chair. But it's a mighty fine example how hypocritical society is. They tell us not to wear what makes us uncomfortable, but what if we find clothes uncomfortable? We can't start stripping in the middle of Orchard Road right?

I still can't find any cosplayers in SG... sigh. Where do they all go to anyway? It's always the same boring people wearing the same boring clothes... at least cosplaying brings some freshness and spices to everyday boring life. Even if the old man tottering on his walking stick disapproves, well, what can I say? Eveyone's entitled to his or her own views. Old folks never approve of young people anyway...they think we are too impertinent.

Anyway, I don't want to grow old. As in, 60+ old. Because I'm afraid that if I grow old I will develop certain inflexibilities and expectation of others, and I will no longer be able to 'open' my mind aside form drowning in my sickness and oncoming death.

Imagine how interesting it will be if old people cosplay...it'll be entertaining. I don't mean that they should cosplay as Sailor Moon or something -GAG!- I was thinking...perhaps something like the guy who made Kentucky Fried Chicken and...I dunno, Santa Claus or a vampire? Come to think of it, most of the villians and heroes in modern tales are normally young looking...I don't think there's a lot of older people in manga (coughcoughexcepthentaicoughcough).

I suppose at one point or another old folks strongly disapproved of acting as a career or watching television...but lookie here! Now all they are doing (or are able to do, considering the fact that old folks are normally not very active) is watching TV! Think...if those actors/actresses have actually listened to these grumpy bigoted people, we wouldn't have our Golden Horse awards or really good movies, and people would be rotting at home trying to play charades or singing off-key in order to entertain themselves. I thank God for the invention of TV and computers....BUT NOT HANNAH MONTANA. Her songs are bad enough, but when coupled with my sister's horribly off-tune singing, it is like hearing an old hag sing the entire Phantom Of The Opera.

... I'm hungry. So I shall stop here.

What I'm gonna say next is really quite Out Of Character for my misandrist self.

Boys are....kawaii desu!

NOT THAT WAY!

As in...sometimes they do things that are really quite cute (and entertaining to see how it backfires...ahem you didn't see this). They remind me of frisky puppies (I love dogs!) rolling in the mud and doing all sorts of strange things. Heh. Their psychology is very intersting...better than girls'. I can't wait to get my first specimen to study them up-close so I can work towards my dream of writing something from a guy's point of view, or even adrogynous... I'm waiting for that day to come...

But it doesn't change the fact that some guys are bastards.

=D

Advertorial

It's the Christmas season, and what comes to your mind immediately (other than heavy credit card bills and slovenly children who wallow in chocolate)? That's right, 'tis the season for giving...receiving...and PARTYING, BABY!

Ahem. That was my bimbo side talking. Quiet you. No whining or fluttering your (pathetically short) lashes.

It's been a short time since I joined Nuffnang, and wow, I joined at such a great time! Not only am I getting paid for the ads they put on my blog, I am now gonna get invited to the grand scale Bloggers only Christmas Party in Singapore! The biggest ever, with bloggers like Kenny Sia gracing the event! Such an honour too, with an obscure ambitious person like me.

Ooh, and did I tell you that the party is held in collaboration with vPOST, a new online international shopping site which allows you to shop...well, internationally? Order stuff from Japan and UK and USA! Globeshopping...without the air tickets and hotels and whatever vexatious travel necessities. Woo hoo! I can see my spanking new Abominations CD at a great price of 92 cents (USD). Happy happy even though it's used, but bah, I get my CD at a reduced price from $10+, so who am I to complain? And since it's the holiday season...that means discounts! Sales!~ All the more reason to shop! Lolita dresses and stuff not available in Singapore, here I come!

Unfortunately....

vPOST makes me v(ERY) pissed off since I'm not of legal age to own a credit card, so I can't buy stuff myself. Damn. CURSE YOU, AGEIST LAWS!

vPOST also makes me v(ERY) impatient to grow up so I can have a job and own a credit card and I can have an entire shopping paradise under domination of my almighty mouse! Bye bye sunday clothes and walking long distances down Orchard Road and spending more money than I have to, since online shopping is more specific and I can get what I want and exit immediately to read manga, thus saving $$$, except in shipping and losing weight I suppose...but bah! It's so convenient.

vPOST makes me v(ERY) enthusiastic to use their site so that I can get stuff not available in Singapore...too bad weapons aren't sold. Anyway, I really really want boots (which are unavailable in SG except for those seriously overpriced and 'eh' in their designs). Ooh, and formal dresses too, and gothic lolita dresses (An interest of mine recently sparked) and cheaper Ayumi Hamasaki CDs...just think of the possibilities....the possibilities of cheaper stuff I can get directly from another country online instead of getting it from those CD shops with lousy customer service... CHEAP CHEAP CHEAP = MORE $$$ SAVED = MORE $$$ THAT CAN BE SPENT SOMEDAY.

Anyway, you get the idea. I can't wait to be legally an adult (this is just one of the reasons...ahem). I just hope that through this post I WILL get an invite. Tee hee.

Since Nuffnang is hosting the party with vPOST, the theme of the party will be according to the letters of vPOST (rather like an acrostic poem), and we get to dress up (like those fancy Halloween parties. Fun fun fun! I wanna go!) Ooh, the possibilities. I already have costume ideas drawn up. Such as:

V: Vampires <3,
P: Prostitute(JUST KIDDING! Not considering at all), Princess (yay hime lolita), Proserpina (My favourite greek goddess of Hades), Punk lolita, pixies (my height very suitable T.T), Priestess
O: Obayifo- Identified more as a witch than a vampire, this magic-made (not hereditary) being left its body at night, in the form of a glowing ball, and attacked people, especially children, and sucked them of their blood. Might also suck the juice from fruits and vegetables.
S: Secretary (easy), Serial killer (ooh, I like it!), Sphinx (where to get the lion's body?), Sweet lolita, sorcerer, shape-shifter, shaman (o.O?)

Too bad I can't order any costumes online from vPOST. I'll have to do it the traditional, dreary way of going through countless shops and finding the right apparel...what drudgery! See? Another reason why online shopping rocks for lazy people who are like me.

Sorry, I need to vent and it's been a while since I wrote those 'angry letters'.

Dear Sir,

Please save us the crap and st op making yourself out to be of a noble figure with the use of magniloquent and unctuous speech. The hypocrisy and hubris which you seem to be replete in is gagging.

Firstly, do not tell others to perform feats which you obviously are incapable of. Or rather, abstain from certain things. For example, I believe badgering others not to switch on their air-conditioning to 20 degree Celsius because it is 'wasting the earth's resources' is completely and utterly null, considering that, if I do recall correctly, you yourself have air-conditioning switched on to 18 degree Celsius, and complain that it isn't cool enough. If you have issues with my preference of temperature AND my methods of keeping cool while sleeping without air conditioning (of which is to dress scantily/remove the blankets), I suggest you bring it right up to me instead of cloaking yourself under the guise of being knowledgeable and seemingly possessing virtues (which you so unfortunately lack). Your prerogative as a parent would be to portray yourself as a good example, and I strongly believe that as a businessman, ethics are of utmost importance, and hypocrisy or lying blatantly is not one of them.

If you realise that your offspring is suddenly venturing from the crystal birdcage which you embellish and cushion for them to a world completely and utterly beyond your control, instead of being a narrow minded bigot (which is yet another obscenely big parenting mistake almost all parents seem to make) and setting up a 'hostile' filter to completely reject that world and shape your child to your ideals, instead of a human, I suggest getting Plasticine to while your time away and shape to your desire. It is discouraged that you try to forcefully implement your will upon them, not only will it backfire badly and burn your derriere, it will cause him/her to lose all trust and respect he/she harboured for you initially. After all, improvement and advancement are indeed necessary and cannot be stalled or curbed. If one were to restrain your child to the way you were brought up (old-fashioned teaching methods, unresearched way of memorising things, scorning your teen's choice due to 'naivete'), it is equivalent to escorting your child to a nice cliff and kicking him off to impale him/herself onto the sharp rocks beneath. A very messy death. Your child will not be able to learn by his/herself AT ALL.

You see now that this is why teens make an informed choice to stay away from parents and confide in friends, for parents have a superiority complex and are patronizing. No effort at all is made to understand or study the psychology behind the actions, and all actions are merely classified into monochrome filters of black and white, black being malignant or 'stupid' problems, white being accepted and generally pleasing actions. Friends, however, will always be an equal and treat you like one, so even if their solutions tend to make things worse, they'll be at your side somehow.

While innocence are often a bane, it helps to cushion any blows and prevent us from being psychologically harmed for facing things before we are emotionally prepared to. If you look at the psychological disorders, most of them begin at a young age or adolescent age, a volatile period. So if you expect your child to be a cynical, bitter widow who no longer sees the joy of Christmas or the purity of childhood, you are doing a great disservice to your child, and possibly committing him/her to a mental hospital.

Finally, let me touch on expectations. All I have to say is that if you expect a perfect child -innocent, happy, and academically good, I suggest you stop your search, find a hard, blunt object (preferably something heavy) and swing it at your head. If you get a concussion/a blood clot in the brain and proceed to die, congratulations, in Heaven you'll see Jesus -- the epitome of perfection, forgiveness and greatness. However, before you open your gargantuan mouth and ask why your little kid isn't happy or innocent anymore, let me tell you this: I was changed, had been changing but you didn't notice it. Henceforth, I would like you to purchase a very big mirror and jeer at your reflection.

------------------------------------DON'T READ, MY REFLECTION.-------------------------------------------------------

I am cynical...because you didn't notice when I was in my own dark depression.
I am bitter...because I have lost all faith and trust in humanity, including you.
I am corrupted...because of this world and how you prove the ills of this world in your lies and hypocrisy, the distractions and feel-good praise, the one-sided affection and the qualities which I, being intelligent and cognizant of how to characterise people, have realised that there was no one I can trust and so drown in my own hell.
I don't believe...because God was never there to help me when I was imploring and crying.
I am silent...because of you and your expectations, and no matter what I say, unless it's what you want to hear, you won't listen.
I am 'dark'...because the light has never touched me, because I feel that I am unable to love, because I feel empty at times and I can't fill it up, because I feel that I can't trust anyone with my soul, because of the fake smile I am now so good at pasting on, and because I've basically accepted that I can never go back to being just a normal kid.
I face the computer more than I face you...because I am still trying to confront myself and find my true self, which is buried somewhere with the layers of appearances like stacks of unsorted newspapers, and I can only do so while I write with my Muse, my silent voice, my symbols and thoughts.
I write...because it's the only outlet where I can confess and be true to myself.
I am my own paradox...because I don't know who I am and who I created, for I made myself untouchable and yet crave the human touch.
And I talk to friends more...because it's pathetic really to see how little you understand about me, and how you can't engage me in conversation and yet expect me to entertain myself and not ask for your attention, because you are a puzzle I can't figure out, a sequence without a cessation.
I wait for the apocalypse...because I want to see the end to everything, taste terror sprouts in my mouth and cause you as much pain yet comfort you.
I hate myself...for descending into self-pity and wishing for comfort, for wanting perfection, for the sleepless nights, for the alter egos faceless and unwritten, for those incomplete stories I wrote of these people and for my lost innocence and cynicism, as well as my fear of trusting people.
I am on dawning insanity...because of myself, and my greatest enemy is myself and the world.
I don't know why I write this, whether I'm searching for pity or attention. It's probably an affirmation and a reflection of my psyche, a diary of my descension to heaven.

You see, now I've figured it out. I am neither a demon nor an angel, I am not a vampire or a zombie, I am the fallen, a fallen angel from my innocence to someone hovering on the fringes of goodness and evil. And insanity is the price I pay for falling from heaven. I can't go to either, I'm in limbo, constantly wanting a connection to the past yet being too far removed. This is not the pretentious fantasies I indulge in when I was younger, I really think I am one.

Don't come near me, I might drag you to hell.

Please stay near me, I am lonely and I want to give you the best I can.

Which side would you accept? No one will completely accept a monstrosity like me.

So as to help me earn $$$ and give me means to help out my family during these troubled times, I ask you to click on the ads. You do not need to apply for whatever they're advertising - if you're interested, good for you, but do click on them. You're helping me and the company who advertises on my blog (=





This ad will be here permanently due to my lack of a headboard. Remember ah, CLICK! I promise you that there will be no viruses/spyware/maglinant stuff and that the company responsible for the regulation of ads assured me of their safety.I won't ask you to click on some shady thing.

Right now, thanks to that ONE PERSON who complied and clicked on that POSB ad, I am 20 cents richer.

My stupid moment of the day (yes, I do have it everyday...sigh).

I have something to confess. I am a manga lover. A shoujo manga lover. A shoujo, romance manga lover.

-winces at audience's incredulity-

But that's not the point. I don't go 'kyyaa' at bishies....yet. So, uhm, I do need my daily dose, since I got addicted to it.

Anyway, I was reading this really good manhwa (A Kiss To My Prince) and NO, it's not what it sounds like. It's about power...and royalty...and money... (my favourite things!). Oh, and the typical girl who wants power is an ex-noblewoman as her family was related to the late queen but was ousted for some reason so she wants to marry a prince and then the three bishie princes appear. It's kinda complicated.

But I'm curious. You can't just stir up my curiosity and leave! My manga site listed it as 'complete', which I found strange considering how complicated the storyline is, which is pratically impossible to resolve in four measly chapters.

So I had to get the Korean raws.

I downloaded it, lalala...and then when I opened the file, I thought, "What the hell is this gibberish?"

I realised it was Korean. Duh!

Stupid manhwa didn't have chinese raws (and that is the singular benefit of learning chinese...to read chinese raws! Mwahahahaha!!!). I mean, I can handle Japanese raws with my scant command of the language and the kanji, but Korean...I'm hopeless. I can only look at the pretty pictures and use my lacklustre inferring skills.

Sigh.

Anyway, tag replies...

...: If I dom't blow dry my hair it would curl up more, so I have to blow dry it straight. But I use the lowest heat setting, so it's okay. After all, it's the same amount of heat you get going out in Singapore.

Zi Han: The hits counter is for daily visitors...not the ones that count from the beginning you installed it till today. Besides, the company I work for that provides me with ads also tracks unique visitors, and I don't know if 80+ visitors a week is little, but I appreciate every one of them. Sorry, but laziness prevails, and I don't feel like amending it...this is another reason why I hate to add links. Tee hee. Thanks for the suggestion though! It would be nice if you volunteered for my project...I promise to keep the questions as non-invasive as possible, and purely psychological.

Zi Han: ... back at ya.

Zi Han: It's a cyan background with a darker hued blue. It looks white from your screen? Hmm...I'll get back to you once I gain motivation to move my lazy arse and replace the code. Sorry that your tagging effort was wasted ><

To Xinyi:

WHERE IS MY TAG, YOU DOPPELGANGER(ooh, my favourite word of the day!)?

P.S. I'm hungry. Feed me ($$$). Chomp.

Yes!!

I am very happy!

I can FINALLY play the high notes (high A, B, C) without any difficulty! And that's because I found my 'magic' point to so that the air hits the correct spot without much effort!

It's the center of my lower lip. Very happy. I can now play all types of music without fear of high notes! MWAHAHAHAHA!!!

Anyway, I am a strange person. Normally people find the low notes harder to play (low C, D). But I can play it better than the high notes. My mid-range is good ^^ Happy happy.

I HAVE CONQUERED YOU THY EVIL INSTRUMENT!!

Now, the only thing left is note-reading...Getting faster though.

I played my primary school song...but the pitch is a bit odd, different from how we sung it. I suppose it depends on the instrument. Has anyone played the Tao Nan School song with a piano before?

P.S. If you have CCHMS school song music score, please send it to me. I want to conquer it! Mwahahahaha...

P.P.S. Now starting on a new piece of prose. Wish me luck...Muse, bless me and please, no talking in the bathroom/unconvenient situations...

Speaking of unconvenient situations, I believe my sister is a bimbo.

Why?

She's only primary one, but she has a 'secret crush'...

And apparently the doppelganger (Jing Yi I think he's called) is the hottest boy in class. Yes, those were her exact words, minus the doppelganger part.

My God. I have the goosebumps and I feel like I wanna hurl. I think I'm a misandrist (man-hater). A minor one, I think - hey, I'm willing to write in a male's perspective, but I don't have a complete enough understanding of them to do so realistically. The piece I'm working on involves someone (faceless for now, should I make it a him or her?) who has body dysmorphic disorder. If you don't understand the term, nevermind. I need to interview a guy so I can 'paste' him in. Who, I wonder?

Oh yeah, I did ask Kah Yong if he allowed me to use him in one of my plots (story-writing, that is, a reference). Hmm... Kah Yong, do you mind being asked questions regarding self-image? It's a dominant them in the piece.

Or maybe I'll just stick to females. I've read a few case studies from psychological institutions (yes, the family agreed for it to be released on the Internet, very useful). The patient is a female, though. The reason why I want the protagonist to be a male is because the disease affects BOTH female and male, and I want to show that men, too, have issues with self-image and erase the gender bias.

The thing I lack now is a interviewee.

PLEASE VOLUNTEER VIA THE TAGBOARD! I'LL SEND YOU QUESTIONS OVER EMAIL!

Labels: Flute, music

Argh.

When I said my hair is curling up, it wasn't that bad.

I think it just got worse, consiering the fact that the upper layers are now frizzing up. And when I looked at my hair behind my head, I SWEAR I SAW IT RESUME ITS NORMAL, WAVY SELF.

KNN.

The layers are now curled up. Friggin' hell...only I am so suay to get rebonding that only lasts for 3 days (or less than that).

I conditioned everyday and did my weekly hair mask dutifully, and I also made an effort to blow-dry it stright. SO WHY THE HELL IS IT CURLING/FRIZZING UP?!!!!

I want to go back to the hairdressers' and demand a full refund/ask them to redo.

But just as I had this nian4 tou2, it started pouring.

Even the weather bullies me... T.T As if I'm not miserable enough, it MOCKS ME.

On the bright side, I think the chemical smell is gone. I can finally smell my nice conditioner fragrance. But as for the part that's curling up....the hiardresser is a liar. It's not just the shoulder-length pieces, the layer wayyy below the shoulders curled up!

And leave-on conditioner...is a mighty waste of time since it doesn't seem to do anything. I can't thik of any more ways to moisturise my hair...except to cut it off and hope that the oil my scalp produces naturally will be able to moisturise my whole head of shorter hair. But it would excaerbate the problem of frizziness and thickness, thus making me look like a helmet head, and the last time I checked, helmet heads are not in this season.

I am really considering a wig now. Or just plaiting it and hope waves suit my face.

Isn't it an irony? You can curl hair naturally (tie your hair / plait it and wear it to sleep, the next morning, voila, waves) but you can't straighten it. Unless you keep combing it straight, but that's too much effort, especially for my bra-strap length hair.

I give up.

Maybe I'll just pull my hair into a bun or go shave it bald.

They said that curiosity killed the cat.

I agree. Rather, instead of a cat, it killed my hair.

Nope, I didn't hover my hair on top of a bunsen burner just to know how burnt hair looks like, nor did I attempt to see whether permanent markers could colour hair (I'm not that dumb). However, after so many days of reading how applying raw eggs to hair will give you nice, smooth hair, I decided to do it. Hey, I thought. It's cheap and good, won't hurt to try.

How wrong I was. The experience was downright unpleasant.

Firstly, raw eggs are downright watery and slimy and they just kept running down my damp hair. I couldn't quite figure out how to do it, so I simply parted it into sections and used a table spoon to pour the mixture.

And yes, it was disgusting. The smell!

Since you were supposed to leave in on for 20 minutes, I sat around reading manga. Boy, the stench was redolent and pungent! However, I noted that eggs do make wonderful hair gels -- that is, if you don't mind the eggy smell. Slather egg on your hair and shape to your desire (let's just say you want a durian-style head), wait for a few minutes, and voila!~ Lovely, stiff spikes. They are really hard as well, and actually make a crisp sound (think the sound of bread crusts/toast crackling) when you bend them!

It was unbearable. I chickened out and decided to wash it after 15 minutes.

I don't know what it was supposed to do, but my hair was all tangly and horrible, like I didn't comb my hair for years. I used cold water to wash it off, and had a little trouble getting my hands through the Suffering-inducing Stiff Spikes. It was a very painful process, and by the time I did manage to comb through my hair using my fingers, I think I had lost quite a lot of hairs. Ouch. To add insult to the injury, my hair was worse off.

Disgruntled, I applied the last dredges of shampoo in my tired bottle and lathered like crazy. Too bad I was nearly out, if not I would've gone for a second, third wash like I did on the first day of camp at Kota Tinggi. I had to do an emergency damage control and use my trusty L'oreal Professionnel conditioner in order to salvage the situation. Thank god the conditioner did its job and now I have my nice, silky before-curiosity-struck hair.

I knew that there was a reason why man invented conditioner. It's so we won't smell like markets and vagrants, plus the fact that those chemicals in conditioners actually do help to detangle and make our hair nice and smooth and shiny. Who cares if there's silicones in them which will lead to build-up? Fuck that, I'd rather have build-up of silicones than build-up of stubborn eggs which are incredibly hard to wash out. Not to mention that eggs are potentially contributors to hair loss (Due to the amount of effort exerted when you tug at the tangles and try to get your fingers through your hair) and nausea (because of the smell).

I suppose that some things aren't meant to be. Like how eggs are supposed to be cooked in cakes and muffins and delicious dishes, not on hair. Besides, they smell better in an omelet.

I hope that there won't be eggs for dinner tonight. Because I don't think I can stomach it.

P.S. I don't think I managed to get all the egg out even after all that washing. When I blow dried my hair, I can still smell egg on it. Yuck. And I thought the fiasco with the Asience hair mask was bad (made hair frizzy and curling up and utterly dry and horrible).

So that's my experience with natural conditoner. I don't think I will be using natural conditioners anymore -- they make things worse. I'd rather apply chemicals on my hair. After all, these chemicals are specially formulated by well-qualified scientists for us, and tested too! I'd rather trust them to do the job than some old wives' tale...