atheism , honeymoons, resolutions and devotions.

the belief that there was nothing and nothing happened to nothing and then nothing magically exploded for no reason, creating everything and then a bunch of everything magically rearranged itself for no reason whatsoever into self-replicating bits which then turned into dinosaurs.

of course atheism makes perfect sense!

i, like jolyn, whom by the way i really think is very deep and profound when she wants to be, believe in a higher being, but i just don’t see the sense in a lot of religion nowadays. yes i’m a skeptic, sneer if you must, but don’t condemn because i question.

maybe i’m just trying to sound intelligent. evan would probably say something like that. and then felly would laugh like it was the funniest thing on earth.

-sulks

and now on to honeymoon periods.

baby says that our honeymoon thing is over, and has long been. apparently, i’m just living in denial. says he.

but how can i help but disagree! since we’re on the roll for list making i’ve come up with the things that make our relations look like a holiday in full swing.

cuddling for hours in bed
snoozing away in each other’s arms
taking three days to get through hitler: the rise of evil
movie marathons in bed
being in bed
cooking together
therapeutic massages
laughing at each other
actually him laughing at me
making plans for a holiday
making plans for a forever

of course, maybe the two of us being schizophrenic , and maybe when i bitch a lot, people who love me know when something’s up, and maybe because i’ve recently gotten out of an emo phase and everyone’s worried, makes it look like picnic gone wrong. but really, it’s not. a couple of ants won’t spoil our appetite.

because it’s an insatiable one. :]

besides, what could possibly go wrong? i haven’t felt so optimistic about a relationship like i do now, so it’s bound to be a good sign.

finally, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, my resolutions.

actually, resolution. singular.

get through each day, one at a time.

i’ve decided that making plans and formulating fantasies are all fine and well, but structuring my life isn’t. it puts too much unwanted pressure.

and i’ve only got enough energy to deal with a day’s problems, so why worry about the week’s? it would be so.. singaporean. kiasu, to say the least but ahh, that’s culture isn’t it?

-sighs

the pace at which the government sets for the society is truely outrageous, i think.

i don’t want to turn this into another rant, because baby would probably counter it faster than i can say “happy new year, my love.” if he felt like it, so i won’t even try. either way, to my family, all my friends, all those i know and don’t but bother to read the letters on a page, and of course, my one and only, cheers. a toast to celebrate in advance the predictably fucked year ahead, and to thank those who will be there to stand by us to kiss the bruises we get along the way and make it all better.

a toast, as always, a tribute to those who’ve shown love throughout the year, my lovely friends who’ve stuck by me in my darkest times. namely evan, felly, jo, michelle, iggs, nat, geri, jen, nick, mark, mel, lizz, and lately, jolyn and bianca. who’ve devoted their time, and lent me their ears. sympathized and maybe even cried with me. thank you for being a part of my life.

and to my boyfriend, lover, baby, best friend, brother, playmate and soulmate. thank you for being you, because you’re all i ever wanted, needed and dreamed of. the last month and a half with you has been awesome, and i’ve learned more with you than i thought i ever thought i could. i’m glad we found each other babe, i don’t know what i’d do without you now. we may fight a lot, but i still thank god for you every night love. you may be mad, but you’re mine. :] and i’m oh-so-thankful.

love, ra.
note: sorry for the randomness of this post, and it’s disconnected points. i couldn’t figure the order out right.

chapter 3

the bell rang crisply through the humid air and was subsequently followed by a chorus of delighted squeals from joie’s class.

summer holidays were here!

swimming, boating trips, picnics, beach outings. the children had so much to look forward to! beautiful, radiating smiles all around, the children’s faces pink with excitement, high-pitched voices exchanging holiday plans.

but joie. joie at the back of the class. joie was quiet. she simply packed her belongings and let herself out from the back door. no goodbyes were exchanged with her, and she kept her eyes on the floor.

truth was, they didn’t even notice she was there.

joie, her demons jeered, they don’t even see you joie!

they didn’t need to say a word. she knew it all too well. those demons. those demons that were shouting down her better angels.

god, father, where are you?

chapter 2

joie’s family loved her. and she loved them. but it was obvious from the beginning they didn’t get along with her as well as they did each other. her mother told her constantly that she was just special. but she knew better. she was always the outcast. baa baa black sheep.

they don’t need you. the voices told her. the demons she feared with every beat of her heart. she prayed. protect me from them, father. save me!

there was always god to turn to, her mother once told her. mother was right, she always was. god couldn’t leave her. he loved joie. and joie loved him.

the demons didn’t stop, but their voices got softer. they whispered her name in the dead of the night. and much as she tried not to be afraid, she still was.

hello joie. they started to say.

cos we takin’ over

i feel like blogging about something deep. something controversial. actually i gained the inspiration from the blog of one of my best friends, and i’d like to say here that she’s one of the nicest, sweetest, smartest, AS WELL AS bitchiest, people i know.

i will quote her here, my scandal, miss evangeline teo who shares a blog with her lover-ly girlfriend, from here blog which is not linked here so don’t bother looking. without further ado, i present her insights. enjoy.

sometimes i get very tired of being gay. then i realise i shouldnt be because if i am then its like an obligation to be gay. but im happy being gay. im comfortable with my orientation but at times i miss being normal. and once again i dont know why im classifying being gay as abnormal because it isnt. it just isnt well-accepted and thus it seems like i’m a social stigma. maybe i am, maybe we are. but its not stopping me from being happy cos it feels like i’m being myself. i guess its alright to miss being ‘normal’ because i was brought up to know that guys should be with girls. it isnt just about the sex. yes i miss dicks (not that ive had one) but i quite miss the kind of security guys can give that girls can’t. i’m not saying girls can’t compare with guys because trust me girls offer you so much, a totally different dimension to seeing the beautiful things in life that no guy can. shut up don’t contest my point unless you’ve dated someone of the same sex.

i think i know why its easy for people to point fingers and think we’re abnormal. because they’re the majority and being the majority means you’re doing what’s right. thats not very true isn’t it. i think it’s beautiful, how people are becoming more liberal towards homosexuality. i dont think achieving this acknowledgment worldwide is a very realistic thing to ask for because i have to accept that whatever it is, we’re not made to be gay. we’re not born gay. many religions forbid it. and i suppose its for a reason, a reason that i can’t challenge or to say the least, fathom.

why the need for labels i dont really know. love shouldnt recognise gender. i dont wish to preach because i’m 17 and i’m a young ignorant bitch who is probably ‘going through a phase’ but no i daresay i know what i’m talking about because dating a guy or a girl, it’s still hard to draw the line that differentiates. i loved my exboyfriend as much as i love my current gf. i give the same i receive the same. it’s the feeling that we’re talking about here and not whether you’re in love with a male or a female. i think emphasis is being placed on the wrong issue here. it isn’t gender, it’s about feelings.

as you can see, i popped the wrong pills and so i’m ranting. and probably trying to sound intelligent. thanks for wasting your time here. it’s 5am lets go to bed and dream of hot people.

fascinating, is it not? that people some of you consider ‘different’ or ‘abnormal’ do think that of themselves sometimes. the cruel truth is that stereotypes are not a secret.

woohoo big surprise there.

people talk about homosexuality, people who look a certain way, race and religion like everything is perfectly acceptable. but when it come to the crunch, there are a HUGE majority who still cannot come to terms with having ‘different’ kids mixing around thenm ‘normals’.

sure, there are fakes around. wannabes, if i may. but why are we even having this line mentality, may i ask. the social ladder, in my opinion, is nothing less than a caste system in an equally crude, just different, form. is no one disgusted by this?

because the way i see it, many of those among us say it’s okayy. but look carefully, the way they talk and act. they think they’re better than those they leave out in the rain. that’s why there’s the ‘in’ and ‘out’ crowd.

bahh. stereotypes.

in: jocks, business students, jc kids, uni grads, kids with cars, good-lookers.
out: smokers, drinkers, gays, kids who ‘dress weird’.

whatfuckingever.

it never fails to amaze me. how these people never tire of giving out dirty looks and stares to people who are different from them. people they don’t know. people they can’t read.

apologize if i sound bitter. i am. i’ve been victimized. i’ve beeen hurt. i’ve been crushed, and in the process of it all, i’ve mellowed.

is that a good thing? i wasn’t happy then or now. what i liked to wear didn’t tell the world who i was. so what if i dated a girl. so what if i dressed like britney one day and avril the next? who’s to say?

my teacher actually once referred my to a counselor who referred me to a shrink whom i had to see twice a week at 6pm. he told me, i was confused with who i was and my identity was lost under all my clothes and make-up. my masks. (and to think it came about because of improper behavior in school.)

bullshit.

just because, i retorted, i’m confusing the rest of the world, doesn’t mean i’ve lost track of myself.

i still stand by it today. those who judge people by what they wear, the colour of their skin, or the music they listen to are retarded, don’t you think? it’s not even safe to judge your friend by what he/she says and does anymore.

tired. unheard. sick of judgment. baby’s right. save the labels for the soup cans.

i admire them. i admire people like evan and fel. people like my sister, stacy. like dehui, ian, clarice and geri. like trish. fox, bianca, jolyn. adriel. along with some others whom i won’t mention in case they mind.

amazing people who can wear what they want, act as they please, and say “fuck you guys and what you think. i am who i am and i’m not apologizing for not being who you wanted or what you needed. i write my own life my way.”

these people who know and are aware that they’re a social stigma but go ahead with their live they way they want and are perfectly comfortable with.

these are the ones worth admiring. they’re not perfect, but they’re happy with being them. how nice, don’t you think? these are my role models. so kudos to them. it’s nothing much, but i hope you guys know you inspire me, and i’m glad you’re my friends, even if we’re not that close.

and then come the part.

of course there are always those not worth mentioning, but always end up being mentioned anyway. in an undesirable fashion, but heyy, guess we know they’re happy with whatever attention they can get.

i just realized something completely random. she’s ALWAYS having her fucking period and cramps and never fails to mention them in her blog, announcing them to the world. i wonder why.

-shrugs-

as i said. she probably wants whatever she can get. not just attention. just about everything, i think.

OMG SARAH YOU’RE SO MEAN. SHUT UP SHUT UP.

i just love my friends, okayy? it’s all i actually wanted to say. but ended up being very very irrelevant and annoying.

i’m sorry. i have a weakness for rants. it’s an inborn deficit.

note: i’m sorry to baby for ALMOST spoiling the surprise but hello isn’t it OBVIOUS! omg. i didn’t say who it was what.

chapter 1

she was bright. she was brave. she was eight. she was different.

joie wasn’t like kids her age. they teased her for kicks, so in time she forgot about ever having friends. she read novels by jeffrey archer while the others were enjoying their picture books. she didn’t like sodas, but only woke up to her morning lipton tea. she wouldn’t run and play during recess, but would sit alone on the rubber swing no one came by anymore and try to count the leaves above her.

joie was quiet. sensitive, but indifferent at times. she wasn’t afraid, but wrestled with her demons constantly when no one else was around. she knew they were there, telling her things, haunting her dreams. and sometimes, they would laugh at her.

she cried alone, poor joie. she couldn’t tell.

ETHICS?

morality, judgment, principles, integrity, upbringing, environment, character. conscience.

a jewish invention, as hitler so famously said.

work ethics, business ethics, religious ethics.

what’s right and wrong?

that loudmouthed cow said of religious ethics, it means which religion is right and which religion is wrong.

what the fuck is wrong with you.

what about racial ethics? you’re always right if you’re white? you’re always stupid when you’re black? you’re always a thief when you’re a yalam?

what rubbish.

siow yan you’re so full of shit.

it drives me, absolutely insane

what’s love? joanne and i were talking about it.

so were abby, jess and i last week.

in fact, many, many times over, with different people. everyone’s intrigued. why?

does it exist? is it real? how do you know?

love. love isn’t real. you can’t see it. you can’t touch it. you can’t feel it. it’s intangible. you don’t know it’s there.

do you feel it when you kiss that certain someone?
when someone says “i love you.“, or “i’d die for you.“?

is there a fuzzy feeling inside? of course there isn’t.
get weak in the knees? everyone knows it’s just an expression.

what the hell is it?

it’s unreal. it’s a lie, an illusion. the idea and concept of love is flawed. or in another perspective, perfect. too perfect. it can’t possibly exist.

let me explain.

love, is unconditional. it forgives, it sustains, it gives. contrary to the common phrase “love is give and take.“, it expects nothing in return. not because the person is afraid her expectations will not be met and she will be crushed with disappointment, but because she loves him. noble, isn’t it?

according to xan, there is no such thing on earth, except between a parent and a child. a parent out of obligation and a child, of gratitude. i beg to differ.

gratitude and such, i agree are components of love. but not love itself. there is no way love can evolve from gratitude, but gratitude is a by-product of love.

there is only one kind of love. the undefined kind.

everyone perceives it differently, and makes it personal to him or her. this. this is the only thing that makes love real.

us.

i believe in love. i really do.

“is there love between you and jesterr?”

of course there is! we put it there. we believe there is. there is, and we are.

i love you addy baby. <33

My Final Solo

silent echos fill the room
an over whelming sense of gloom
settles over the audience tonight
it’s the last time the stage is bright
when a lone dancer enters the stage
she feels like she’s trapped in her cage
but no matter, it is the last time
after tonight she’ll cross the line
a new song plays, the end begins
a tune of broken hopes and dreams
she dances with her shattered soul
feeling nothing, her heart is cold
suddenly as she began, she fell
hurt by the truths she couldn’t tell
her sobs puncture the atmosphere
for a moment seems like no one’s there
no one she could call a friend
no one she could count on till the end
the music stops, it’s ending now
the curtain falls, a final bow
there is applause, the people know
it’s the last performance -

my final solo

*original

a photo

i look like crap in a lot of them photos, but i treasure the moments the shots have frozen.

feel like stopping time? take a snapshot.

these are the times i will take with me till the day i die. every picture, a story, a meaning, a lesson. people i’ve come to know, people i haven’t yet met, people i love and people i don’t. places i’ve been, places that hold fond memories, places that allow me unpleasant reminiscing. things that remind me of people, things that remind me of events, things that remind me of things. the world, it’s changes, and the steadfast. everything captured. recorded, kept.

fascinating isn’t it?

imagine when you have nothing left someday. when the world has left you without anyone, or anything, except your photo album. you flip through the yellowed pages and see faces, eyes, people, family and friends, places. everything so familiar but at the same time far away and out of reach. a sigh. and everything comes back, and they linger.

as if they never left.