I think it's a goner.
I think I'll have to start from the beginning.

From a fresh blanc papier.

I hope the adrenaline rush comes soon.
I hope the passion gushes out of no where
Then, muses will inspire something.

Before the clock strikes 4 pm tomorrow.
I'm no cinderella.
But the clock is ticking.
And when this ends, for better or for worse.

I have another coming. and coming

You know this is what they say about life.
It's merry-go round.

You pay for the ride.
And go round in circles.
Circling on the same spot.

Until it signals for you to stop.
All this while, questioning why you got on in the first place.

Something's got over me.

Last morning, at 6.07am.
An idea of destruction struck and stayed to sow seeds of discord, between my better and worse halfs. Slumber as bait, I saw how difficult it would be to go to class at 10 am the same day. The ringing of past resolutions silent by the humming of temporal relief.

Last afternoon, at 4.47pm.
The car was in motion, my mouth chewing on the weird and very msg-ed chicken slice. My brains barely registering the french fries that went down minutes ago.

Last afternoon, at 4. 51pm
The doors opened and I picked up an arm-load of baggage entered the living room of the house we inhabited as a family. The food bought was lay on the table, as I settled into customary position - eating. One bean curd tart, pausing half-way to shout for "Jasmine", then continuing mindlessly to fill my stomach and time. Past the tart, I reached for the apple pie I presumably bought. Another bite, before Mum reminded me of the load I ate, unknowingly. I felt my stomach and felt no difference between hunger and excess.

Last night, at 8.50pm
The muesli in the kitchen beckoned. After my muesli breakfast, I seemed inclined to continue. With a day expired swiss yogurt and more rolled oats and dried fruits. Pinching more from Joanna's share of Honey yogurt and muesli mix.

Last night, 11.56pm
1 more frozen bean curd tart from the cranky refrigerator. Quite thoughtlessly, I moved through various heating of the same frozen tart. Munching the thawed bits, between heating. Through individual conversations with Jasmine which steered towards the activity of talking above listening on both accounts, I remembered the apple pie I abandoned before. Which accounts for 1 more trip to the toaster. Then Jasmine's supper seduced my awkward senses with promises of prolonging the supper. Another piece of bread, with charred pork floss. Then, only I realised I'm gorging food again.

Just Downloaded, LeAnn Rimes, Probably wouldn't be like this

Got a date a week from Friday with a preacher's son
Everybody says he's crazy
I'll have to see

I finally moved to Jackson when the summer came
I won't have to pay that boy to rake my leaves

I'm probably going on and on
It seems I'm doing more of that these days

I probably wouldn't be this way
I probably wouldn't hurt so bad
I never pictured every minute without you in it
Oh You left so fast
Sometimes I see you standing there
Sometimes it's like I'm losing touch
Sometimes I feel that I'm so lucky to have had the chance to love this much
God gave me a moment's grace
'Cause if I'd never seen your face
I probably wouldn't be this way

Mama says that I just shouldn't speak to you
Susan says that I should just move on

You oughta see the way these people look at me
When they see me 'round here talking to this stone

Everybody thinks I've lost my mind
But I just take it day by day

Probably wouldn't be this way

In Documentation of something.

Today at 8.45 am
I came around. Just physically, not quite consciously. So I fell backwards into the comforting arms of my baby blue sheets and bed. Stained with marks and fur all over. But I slept well. and snuggled.

Today at 9.04am
Rude awakening from the snoozed alarm. I could not put this off further. So I swung my mentally-heavy legs over the side of the bed I love. Human time in all the wash up and get ready business. But I heard my voice in my head. Speaking of responsibilities and reminding of regrets. I couldn't switch it off, even with the distraction of foundation cotton, powder puff, through rubbing of rouge and eyeliner. It was distracting, I did a mess of my make-up, but left for company.

Today at 9.47am
In the car, comforted by the radio blabbers. Looking at the digital clock, with an aching reminder of my fortune that somehow even never seemed enough to me. My lack of perspective, and I feared that I would be in class early. Panicked, as I wasn't ready to talk, for conversation and to see the other. I place a smile on my face, waved goodbye and left the car for the huge black building that hovered over my existence.

Today at 9.53am
Definitely early. I strode on with the vacant smile on my face. I continued my mental exchange with the voice, arguing about the past, present and future boundaries. We disagree about the ways of living on, with or without the truth interfering. I past a van, with 2 men looking on. And went hiding in the toilet. The lights switched on, by sensor sensing my entrance. Alone, I looked into the mirror, fussing over my hair and appearance. Unsuccessfully forgetting the reason of hiding.

Today at 9.57am
I couldn't justify crying, so I left my hideout and went to class. I entered the class, and saw only 4 students, murmured a greeting and settled for my comfort zone, habitually telling convenient lies that people enjoy listening, though it told them nothing. My seating in the right end from the door, I could safely look on to what my heart wishes to see, and crouch into my unwelcoming position and remember to put on my "do not disturb" sign.

Today at 10.05am
I woke up fully to class and secured my mask in place for lesson and answering questions. No longer sure if the air I breathed in was supplied to my disappearing self. But the play has started, the music played, and I was in character, dancing in my motionless stance to the script - ignoring others like I should in the back drop.

No reason to be happy or sad for that matter.
It's like listening to song, the lyrics begin sad then slowly transformed itself into another. Today, I include the lyrics of the song as part of my entry - speaking for me, some things that simply cannot be verbally taken out.

Circles by Colbie Caillat
I was running in circles
Was only a matter of time
Before I found myself drowning in troubled lies
Was starring back at what I´d seen for a long, long time
How did I break it?
How did I clear my mind?

I was hiding in places I knew nobody could find
Until I found myself spinning in rewind
Was starring back at what I´d seen for a long, long time
I had to break it
I had to clear my mind

Hard times that I like to forget about
So much I held inside
God let it out
It took a while to find it
But now I´m here and I can´t deny it

This feeling just gets better all the time
So beautiful in front of me that I can´t believe my eyes
I know it from move ahead time is one my side
I´m free from the circle
There´ll be no regrets this time.

Going back and attempting to sync my past with now who I become. With the every episode I see, years back, reminding me of what was, what touched me, drives me, and stops me.

Though, I may never chant rhyme of magical happenings or be able to cast spells that bring my past and future before my eyes. I have learned one thing from every setback and assistance I have had - I won't let regrets hold me back.

With my studies, its easier to do that. But for other parts of life, I do see the water freezing like my time and decisions crystallizing into regrets, I may not let go in the future. But I don't ever want to become someone bitter and mean. I want to be able to learn to die for certain things, to have things worthy of that.

It's not easy to do that -especially when my upbringing stands entirely against that, but I will try, not for happiness or unhappiness. Just for me and myself.
was surfing last night, escaping from the dreaded conclusion and recommendation section I had to write. I went from international internship search to global volunteer program search to travel plans.

Then I realize that I was uniquely different from my upbringing. I'm actually not the kind of people that live to work (that's why all these years, it never worked out that way), I would like to think that I'm also not the sort of talk the living, then work for nothing. (Hard to believe now, but I hope the future will lend a hand to prove this right)

I will actually find that thing I love to do. To devote my time to more than taking home the bacon, the money for LVs. And until I find that, I will just keep searching.

I somehow think that Mum and Dad and everybody I know is wrong.
Giving up and trying again is not wrong. It's simply the process, I'm just that kind of person. Maybe it's called irresponsibility for others, but it seems also like a way of life for me. And I am finally going to stop (or at least try to) grow up and stop living by daddy and mummy's standard of right and wrong or anybody's standard for that matter. After all, I am living into the 2nd decade of my life. To take risks and make mistakes - and that's what landed me in this college in the first place. And somehow, despite how much I curse and swear, it seems right.

My new personal goal: to break down barriers and stereotypes - the world is huge. People are different. And much as I would like people understand my uniqueness, I would like to offer them the same benefit of doubt.

2nd new personal goal: To stay grounded. I know this is abstract - like every I say. But this means that I won't (will try to) get high and mighty. God forbid, we all know how easy my ego inflates and how the arts isn't the place where humble people are. But I'm going to try.

I see myself dreaming and chanting in abstraction again, I know I should live more instead of setting more goals and hoping to accomplish more. But taking french and fulfilling that one dream I held for all too long. Answered an ancient question for me - the one answer that really matters. To listen to myself. Besides, it's time I understand and accept that I'm a dreamer.

And sooner or later, I'll have the courage to reach out for that part of me. The part that is falling for love. and not in love. To question and find an answer for that, to stop living through the safety mirror of others. It will come.

Till then again. jeanie

Echos of the heart, and my soul.

I'm afraid to admit that I'm hollow within. There is no substance, no beauty, no blood. Nothing, but a hollow and empty shell. With emotions, swirling in eternal spirals.

There I go once more, writing in cryptic and abstract descriptions. Impossible it may seems, for me to be straightforward and truthful. Everything that exude from my being, are merely echos of my feelings and thoughts. Censored, Filtered, and then dissipated.

Facade reflecting another facade, within it all, if you search deep enough. There's nothing. Perhaps the truth is I stopped living when I was 10, there after, everything turned into a prepared script for an anonymous play. A play with a million acts, and only 1 audience watching. I can't find meaning with my lies and denials.

But somehow, I can't lay myself bare for public scrutiny. Call me a coward, but I refuse to be vulnerable. I can't trust my heart with myself, much less with everyone else.

ps: I'm ill today, apparently acute food poisoning. But I think it's a body's reaction to my aching and somehow wounded soul. Perhaps, over the weekend, some old memories evoked some suppressed understanding of the past. An understanding of what I'm missing out on.

See the World, by Gomez

Day to day
Where do you want to be?
cose now you're trying to pick a fight
With everyone you need

You seem like a soldier
Who's lost his composure
You're wounded and playing a waiting game
In no-man's land no-one's to blame

See the world
Find an old fashioned girl
And when all's been said and done
It's the things that are given, not won
Are the things that you want

Empty handed, surrounded by a senseless scene
With nothing of significance
Besides a shadow of a dream
You sound like an old joke
You're worn-out, a bit broke
An' askin me time and time again
When the answer's still the same

See the world
Find an old fashioned girl
And when all's been said and done
It's the things that are given, not won
Are the things that you want

You've got a chance to put things right
So how's it going to be?
Lay down your arms now
And put us beyond doubt
So reach out it's not too far away
Don't mess around now, don't delay

See the world
Find an old fashioned girl
And when all's been said and done
It's the things that are given, not won
Are the things that you want

I’m having trouble sleeping
I’m thinking of what you said
About the tears been shed
Leave me

Annoyance is burning out a hole in my body right now.

Though I sit stagnant on my bed, I want to run around the house, to jump on my bed, to scream out of the window, to tear and destroy, to thrash somebody, to take it out on myself.

Restless-ness, becomes the state of consciousness that has plagued me for the past days. Every little matter seems to irritate me to my core.

With the slightest matters, like my poorly managed finances. With little funding (not that I truly think I deserve it), and worst of all, my ill-habits of splurging and impulse buys and unsatisfying desires.
I would like to blame it on the bad economy, on Dad for not increasing my finances, on my almost depleted bank balance. But deeper within, I know it's me. MY lack of control and inability to spend as my budgets decreed that creates the angst and annoyance. One failed attempt, after a whole month. Not exactly the beginning, I excepted of this year.

But of course, I refuse to be upset by that.

Then, there are social obligations. I hate that, that 'o' word is my word of choice. But, it's true. Old friends are back, though I always doubted if the word "friend" would apply to my feelings towards these people who seem to treat me as one. Ungrateful? Or just unreceptive? I have no idea, but the call I received from that particular male friend, annoyed and stressed me over the brim. I don't want to meet. Don't want to talk, don't want to lie, don't want to patronize or pretend any interest. But, of course, I will be polite and "nice" as always, leading people to the wrong conclusion, not that I blame them. I hate that.

Another failed attempt at that, two actually. 1. Failing to act as 'hell with your opinions'. 2. Failing to be less anti-social... or at least, learning to not STRESS over social encounters.

I hate failures. Those are NOT supposed to be happening to me this year. Again, I refuse to be upset, not when I have deadlines on Wk7. A class who IS/ ARE/ HAVE BEEN seriously under-estimated by my ego. Grades to be remedied. A life to start living.

Refusal don't sit well with me, you know. Refusal leads to restlessness, which leads to distractions. I cut my hair on Saturday, not a drastic cut. Also, not a good move or a good cut either.I now look hatefully 'cute', if you actually want a positive word for that. Distractions also came in the form of bad movies, like Inkheart. And re-runs like Charmed, and romance novels - i read umpteen times.

Not good at all for the bigger picture, which I am clearly missing. No progress on the essays. And I've been having a headache since like forever. Tempting me to the red-bulls and panodols.

I don't even know if I could go MIA on those 'friends' again. There's only that many second chances you have, and I don't think I deserve any. Nor, do I want to regret this, of not changing myself or the way things are. It's a paradox, I can't tell if what I want is what I need.

Janauary. I'm trying to break quite alot of habits from the past. The subconscious awakening to a better 'good' The coward trying to be brave.

And all in all, I'm trying to be responsible for the first time in my life. And I know all changes and revolutions are not smooth-sailing activities. But this month, I tried, tired, and failed in suffering, as cowardly as possible.

I'm ranting, Till again then.

Sometimes, jeanie