After that positively depressing/deflating/doleful/melancholic/lugubrious/glum/gloomy/despondent/woebegone (yes technically I can go on forever listing synonyms but to cut the long story short, here goes...) post I decided to post about my current favourite manga: Wallflower!

It's just funny. So funny it changed my lugubrious mood to one of levity.

I LOVE SUNAKO! (The weird gothic girl who hates being a lady and loves her creepy paraphernalia).

Hee. I'm not too crazy over the bishies...they look perfectly average. That why I am still rather neutral over the topic of whether one boy is more handsome than the other, demonstrated in a conversation I remember having with some friends (can't remeber who exactly, let's call her L)

L: Chanel! Look! Shuai or not?
Me: *scruntinises, analyses information, mental spreadsheet which compares and contrasts said boy's look with manga's bishes* *after much deliberation, L vibrating anxiously* Okay lorh.
L: What do you mean ok lorh?! He's damn shuai okay?!!!
Me: *bluntly* Really? I never noticed.

This goes to show how UNGIRLY I am despite my love for chocolates, dogs, money, shopping (for myself), taking care of my looks (don't want to look sloppy) and abhorrence for outdoor activities, e.g. camp. I wouldn't mind if it's some sort of expedition to some city, like Paris...I'll HAPPILY go onto the museums and galleries and sip coffee and fly on airplanes...yes I am a city girl.

However, I very much doubt that an average girl has sadistic tendencies, a competitive personality, a deference towards sitting properly, is a rabid feminist, and knows about as much sexual slang as the average boy. Hmm. Must be the fanfic I read.

And NO, I don't do Yaoi. Sorry yaoi fans.

But I do suppose I eye money the way girls eye handsome guys...and I am a feminist and proud of it! Equality towards women! Let ability be the true judge, not our gender!

If possible I want to learn martial arts...and utilize it. And if I'm the PM of Singapore, I'd allow weapons such as guns and daggers, but I'll monitor its usage so there'll be no crimes commited with them.

But the 50 push ups I did within 5 mins or less aren't gonna help much for my muscles. Sigh. Not very effective for toning down the fats, if possible, by biceps look even bigger. But my biceps are still too soft for my taste. And I feel that obnoxious layer of fat nuggling beneath my skin. I wanna get rid of it! Anything just to be able to be toned and do chin-ups!

Note: Angsty post. Parts in miniscule writing are deemed as being too negative for young minds such as yourself. Read at your own risk; if you end up deranged like me, you have only yourself to blame.

I am grateful to my friends, eternally. I owe you a debt that can never be repaid in this lifetime. You may have never realised it, but you've helped me...so thank you.

---

It's the weekend and instead of studying, I'm online. Again. Everyday.

I think I totally do not deserve to be in RP, considering how repugnantly lazy I am. Everyone is putting in effort...except me. Everyone understands WTBMFH the chinese teacher is saying...except me. Everyone has their own groups and friends and people to walk along with during the interludes between lessons..except me.

Last year I had my friends and HM as a safety net, a protective blanket from myself and my destructive thoughts. Last year I wasn't as depressed, even though I embraced the darkness and appreciated its beauty. Last year I wasn't afraid of strangers. Last year I was more true to myself. Last year, even though I still kept secrets and scars under my perfectly maintained facade, I was able to let my friends in and fill the empty spaces of my heart.

They say that to feel pain from the heart is scientifically impossible (unless you're having a cardiac arrest). And being a perfectly healthy individual, I highly doubt that I have cardiac arrests. What is this twinge in the heart I feel in my solitude and loneliness? What is this foreign mercury lump in place of my heart? I know it's htere, keeping my alive, keeping my blood pumping through my veins, but I can't feel it. I feel empty. Dead.

I'm surrounded by people but am unable to open my heart.

I am possibly the most blunt and direct person you've ever met on this face of the Earth, yet I have secrets. Secrets you can't imagine me harbouring. A past you'd never associate with me (NO, not drugs and getting pregnant and stuff, you nincompoops)! I am honest with my feelings and psychological state of mind, I can even tell you I'm going insane, but you'll never know what I am thinking. You see my emotions on my face, but not my thoughts, no-one can tell me precisely what I am, because I am an enigma. I am an anomalty. No one knows who I truly am.

I don't know why, but when I arrived late at the parade square for the morning assembly, the HM clique (HT, Weiqi and the gang) surrounded me with their smiles and laughter. I don't know why, but suddenly the tears were welling up, and I cried. In the crowd, in front of my classmates, in front of teachers with their curious, prying eyes, in front of a cohort of 400 students or more, and leaned towards a hug. Why are you so attentive and sharp towards minute detail? No-one noticed I was crying, or the onset of imminient tears, but you did.

I'm sliding into depression. Not clinical depression or major depression where I'll go attempt suicide, but depression nonetheless. A less severe form, and I know, because I've done the research. The loss of joy in doing what you enjoy (sometimes). The empty feelings, as if you're going through the motions. The constant bleakness of emotions. The difficulty of being happy. The weariness of having to force a smile and pretend to be happy. I've mastered the art of perfecting my smiles to deceive people (Not so effective with tears, but without, no one can tell).

How tiresome it is, to have to constantly pretend to be somehting you're not! To be normal! To smile and pretend to be carefree! To be approchable and pretend as if the scars were nothing but digital modifications that can be cleansed with a tap of the 'delete' button!

I still enjoy my manga and lit very much, but other than that, it's nothing. I'm left alone. One thing I really dislike about people is how they smile and speak insincere words, and when you really need them, they disappear into their bustling little lives. Everyone is selfish, and no one really cares about their friends. If you tell me that even under duress you will never betray your friend, I will laugh in your face and tell you about you silly, idealistic notions. Because I am a bitter, cynical person who can't love, can't trust, a half-decomposed shell of a human, and therefore no one will get near me.

Yes, I think emotional posts are completely...off. Especially if you know what the writer is feeling is just a tenth -nay, a twentieth- of what you've experienced! I am a negative influence and I will depress you, so if you want to be mentally healthy, stay away. Because some things aren't meant to be. I am a freak accident in making, a deluded fallen angel who had been exposed to the darker side of humans and doomed to wallow in the dust of their footsteps.

Some things aren't what they appear to be.

You Are Scissors

Sharp and brilliant, you can solve almost any problem with that big brain of yours. People fear your cutting comments - and your wit is famous for being both funny and cruel. Deep down, you tend to be in the middle of an emotional storm. Your own complexity disturbs you. You are too smart for your own good. Slow down a little - or you're likely to hurt yourself. You can cut a paper person down to pieces. The only person who can ruin you is a rock person. When you fight: You find your enemy's weak point and exploit it. If someone makes you mad: You'll do everything you can to destroy their life

This is so accurate it's scary.

Too smart for my own good huh? I like that.

I bought the perfume.

And you know what's sweeter?

I got it at $48. ONLY.

And $48 is pretty cheap considering that 75 ml is the largest size they have it in, and that your normal retail sells it at $100+ (120 perhaps?) and I bought the UNUSED tester (so I slashed off $10), which landed me at $48. I had been expecting the price to be at least $70+, but well... Not complaining here!

I smell pretty nice now after spraying it on. It feels like part of my idenity-- like I have rejoined my hopeful self which believed in faires and wishes coming true.

The bad thing is that this perfume is kinda greasy (think facial oil) and doesn't last very long on my skin...only about 1 hour or so. It should last a little longer...according to what I read anyway. Besides, won't it be a waste of time to have to constantly reapply it?

But I managed to differentiate the top notes, heart and base notes! I think it's the heart-base notes that smell the nicest. Wonderful... now I don't have to worry about stinking.

Yay me.

However I am kinda doubtful about the authencity of this perfume... it's a bit too oily and too non-lasting. Maybe my skin just doesn't help to retain fragrance. I remember I sprayed myself in the face/chest once accidentally when handling my mum's perfumes, and I smelled like that for about 2 hours (or more?)

I might take it to the SA to ask whether it's authentic. It's impossible to have to pay so little.

Asinine hair curled up due to too much tying during school days. It looks like a combination of really bad flyaways and static, as well as dried hay. Except that the dried hay in question is brown, not a lovely blonde.

Pissed off. Invested so much in my hair and yet the rebonding job can't even keep it straight! Well, I guess the adage about your hair being a representative of who you are is true...my hair is the most dratted, stubborn, spoilt princess with split ends and twisted thinking. However, it's softer due to the conditioner I put on everyday.

ROAR.

I guess I'd have to wait till June to do another one...I shall go at 10 a.m. this time so there'll be more time for them to put on the neutrealiser. Either that, or go to some auntie in Jurong West (according to some forums her fee is $70 and the rebonded hair remains straight for AGES).

Okay. Enough about hair. Let's talk about equally annoying things...like siblings.

I am convinced that my little sister is a hellion in disguise. And I am equally sure that I won't be having kids anytime soon, because instead of being nuturing I'd probably kill them happily. With torture devices devised (ooh, don't you just love the alliteration and rhyme here?).

That bloody brat broke a mickey-moused shaped pencil my aunt from America gave me (and considering how I don't get to see my aunt much, i.e. only about 2 or 3 times for every decade, and the last time I saw her was at her wedding), that pencil is meaningful.

AND THAT BRAT BROKE IT! ROAR!

Instead of telling me, you know what that conniving little pestilence did? She attempted to scotch-tape the broken pieces together and leave it lying innocently, while pouting that I don't give her enough care/concern/chocolates.

I'll give you care and concern, my dear. I'll give a lot of care and concern over your funeral proceedings and strategise a bloodless way to kill you without getting caught, while simultaeneously delivering a lot of pain. As for chocolates...Hmm... I guess I can drown you in them/ after torturing you extensively with military punishment and mental tests, I'll tie you down in some stinky place in Malaysia (or anyplace that has rats), coat you with chocolate and film you getting eaten alive by starving rats/animals/ants. Hey, that's not a bad idea. I'll keep splashing her with ice-cold water/injecting adrenalin into her so she'll be concious throughout the whole process. Then I'll film down the whole process, edit some parts digitally/introduce some visual/sound effects, then sell it to some horror movie film maker, and get rich. Yay me. I will then make friends with the most powerful and buy off the rest who don't like me. Hee hee hee. Then I'll be powerful AND rich!

Unfortunately, the above scene comprises entirely of my abundant (and violent) imagination. Nah, I won't do that, that's reserved for my enemies. I'll maybe break a finger or two, while giving her a joker's grin (i.e. slit her cheeks from the corner of her lips to make it wider, making it extremely painful for her, whether her mouth is closed or open). Let's not forget the scarring! That would deal with the naggy chatterbox nature of hers.

Sigh. The above scenario is also not possible. Let's see whether I can sabotage her future and not feel guilty.

Nevermind, I can't come up with non-violent possibilities. I'll wait. I'll scheme (and seethe) and wait.

All this over a pencil, I know. But consider it payback for all the things she's irked me in.

I am probably demented and insane.

Sensitive/CONTROVERSIAL material Warning

Now for my own quote!

"There's nothing like a vehement, well-rounded expletive to relieve you of
the frustration at stupid people."

'S right people, now say it with pleasure. The tension and fury leaving your body in a harsh pack of air. FUCK.

Got an issue with a girl saying things like that? Oh, don't worry, you'll get use to it. So, to irritate you, dear prudish, self-righteous reader with your head stuck up your arse, here are a few more for you to enjoy and appreciate:

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK~

*smiles saccharinely*

Ooh, and let's not forget the accompanying rude hand gesture.

........................./´¯/)
......................,/¯..//
...................../..../ /
............./´¯/'...'/´¯¯`·¸
........../'/.../..../......./¨¯\
........('(...´(..´......,~/'...')
.........\.................\/..../
..........''...\.......... _.·´
............\..............(
..............\.............\

And yes, that's the middle finger salute, I salute you, kind sir and bountiful lady.

(=

I have been getting an unmitigated flow of misfortune. What is this? A premonition of this coming year? Has my luck run out?

First, I keep putting assignments and stuff to be handed up on the dining table, but whenever I'm finished with breakfast, I forget about it and go off.

Secondly, there's the problem of my ever-primping father who takes double the time I take to get ready. And considering the fact that I take about half an hour to shower and 15 mins to dry my hair completely, that's a helluva lot of time.

Thirdly, there's the case of my PRC deskmate who doesn't understand what's being said in English nearly 40% of the time and I have to explain it to her, causing me to miss whatever the teachers have said in the process.

But she's useful in Math and chinese.

Fourthly, 1 more time I hear a teacher messing up my name, I am going to garrote her with my pencils and worksheets. But before that, maybe coat him/her with honey and kick her to a nest of PMS-ing hornets. Or if I can't find the hornet, I'll just use my non-expertise at inserting tubes down her oesophagus (who knows, maybe it'll end up in the lungs) and pour the dirtiest part of CCHMS lake water down. I hereby crown this ritual a cleansing of the innards.

Fifthly, I hate bus drivers, because they have really poor attitudes and give you THAT look, and some of them can't even drive well. Asinine fuckwits can't even wait for their passengers, while carrying a mammoth bag, to sit down properly before diving like a man with a raging libido off to find his gay lover.

Sixthly, I hate the sun. Period.

Sevthly, our timetable sucks. Period.

-Warning! Sensitive content here. You can choose to proceed or stop here.-

Finally, HEY FUTURE STUDENTS CONSIDERING CCHMS as a choice...do not, I repeat, go into this school as not only does 95% of the staff have lackluster English, the head of department are hypocrites who which to inculcate and expound upon values they themselves do not embody. They listen to members of the public(MOP) who have argument fallacies and embarrassing grammatical errors in their pompous letters, and these so-called MOPs claim to be alumni who do not want to see future generations dirtying the oh-so-chaste livery of our school. *rolls eyes*

Oh, and they are sadly lacking in moral and ethical values, considering how they could blame us for not putting in enough effort when they themselves know that a test was going to be held last week but, being the incompetent sods they are, can't be bothered to open their golden mouths to tell us. Is your voice so precious? Made from platinum or the breath of Gods? And they blame us for not studying (obviously because we didn't know there was going to be one until they walk in!), not knowing (because we only heard it from other classes like LY on that day itself!) and say, "You can't bother to walk one level up to ask issit?"

Well, FUCK YOU, you can't be bothered to open your mouth to tell us issit? HYPOCRITES, all of you. I am completely and utterly DISGUSTED and ASHAMED. We have to respect these people? Granted, there are a few nice teachers (an extremely rare minority), but they don't help your case. Don't complain about Chung Cheng, I say you are BLOODY LUCKY to have the HONOUR to come here and teach us all. We, unlike other schools, do not pose bodily harm, abusive language, tricks that cause injury, nor do we impair you to the extent of putting you in the hospital/asylum/quitting within weeks. So shut the fuck up and suck it up. You are lucky, and you'd better treat us well.

I know that I am a student there. I know that this is a blatant dishonour. But this is truth. Judge for yourselves. I open my eyes and see dirtiness, I'm not going to say it's clean. I am going to give a true an honest account. This blog has been nothing but true and honest.

Tell me, future students at CCHMS, do you want to go to such a school? You'd be better off somewhere, where teacher's don't just tell you to reach for the stars, they show you.

I hope to find and gain something in my four years there. So far I've been through 3, and I like the people I met there (friends), but not the campus and the staff. I don't like the ambience there. I have expected so much more, and was gravely disappointed. You call this a good school? It's average. Average to the point of vanishing into mediocrity. The facilities are on par with neighbourhood schools, except that they don't have a lake.

---

I think I know why I hate people.

I met my nemesis at the canteen today. I went off happily with the clique, but as I tromped off to the bus stop, I really didn't expect to see her there...

So dao mei he enemy ye you yuan fen...

But somehow, upon seeing her my curiosity was triggered. How was she faring? What class was she in? I remembered that she used to be in a class (whose name seriously juxtaposed with her character...as if she's a loyal gryffindor). Upon going home, I switched on my trusty computer and searched the net high and low for her blog.

It did take quite a while, but I managed to locate it...and find out, to my utmost pleasure and gratification, that she was sorted into the lowest class (sorry people of 3BN, some of you are really nice people who don't deserve this fate, so JYJY everyone...except for HER of course). To my amusement and malicious glee, she even had to attend the 3 week PUMP program!

For someone who used to mock the intelligence of others and apt at the art of betrayal, it's a great irony, no?

This goes to show that 老天有眼! Just desserts for her!

Whee! Retribution upon her head!

Yes, I know I am being a hypocrite and a vengeful scrooge, but I don't care. I am a competitive person, if I defeat them in all areas of life, then I will have truly conquered them in a way. That's my way of thinking.

I kow people are telling me to forget. But I can't. I'm sorry, I can't erase it, it's been a vital part of me which shaped me. My path is irreversible, and I will loiter in the darkness forever, unable to venture into the light because to be in the light, you have to ignore the darkness. Pretend it doesn't exist. I can't do that.

Besides, what right do you have to tell me that if you seem to be even further away than before? No one tells me anything, I'm left out of the loop and have to find things out for myself. I'm tired enough in school and math, where you have to constantly find the unknown. I don't want to keep having to find you.

A relationship is a two-way thing (I'm talking about friendship, geez). I can't keep having to appease you guys and finding you. One day I'll stop. So maybe we'll drift apart.

Bloody valor and conscience and the need for companionship instilled into all of us. Bloody feelings, I'd rather be empty.

My new year resolutions are:

1) Be nice to everyone. Except to those who really deserve it.

And under the 'those who deserve it list' are people who wake me up too early in the morning, are annoying, hypocritical, male chauvunists, and teachers who dismiss us late/give too much homework/ as lovely as Umbridge from Harry Potter.

2) Learn to be content/find happiness in my own way.

...and at the same time, perfect that death glare.

3) Write better!

HELLO LITERATURE =DDDD. Learn to write more poetry without overdoing the descriptives, put emotion in words, find my own distinctive style that is not too...forced.

And die die must try for CAP! RAWR! A woman's ambition!

4) Save more instead of spending.

Like, for CNY red packets, save 60% and spend the rest. Fair enough for me to get that Anna Sui perfume I'm eyeing.

5) Snap out of the all-guys-are-useless thinking. Because I'll be hypocritical.

6) Work harder on studies, but remember to have personal time in between work!

-Review notes after lessons.

7) Be a better person.

8) Try not to scare off too many by my moodswings.

9) Don't go insane. Keep my sanity~!

10) I'll get back to you later in the year.