It takes two.

I lost my baby today. The best present I have ever gotten. Such a useful tool. It was my own to use, personalise. I lost it to a guy who would never appreciate it like I did.

I can't believe it's gone. It's all my fault. Why did I do it??

Brick by brick, we can build it from the floor.

I am so exhausted so I'll probably call it a night.

Before that, however, I wanted to write a little something that I want to remember as the years go by.

I was a bit desolate of late and went to consult Joan. Today, I went to look at my grades and realised that I did pretty alright I guess. DEFINITELY needs improvement, but I don't feel demoralised anymore.

Over SMS, I told my dear BFF that my grades spelt 'BE SAD'.

She told me it was probably a message from God.

I was confused as to why God wanted me to continue living in desolation.

Her reply was that God wanted me to look at my grades, feel the regret for a bit, then move on to score really well for my A's. He wanted to write 'GOOD JOB', but that was not possible. He had to be creative.
 :)

I love Joan. :)))

She used to be a pearl.

I don't know why I'm crying. The tears just keep running down my sullen cheeks.

I think it's because, after 18 years, you'd expect my parents to stop acting like no one else exists.

My dad. He can be such a monster. No one talks to him because they'll either cry or blow a fuse.

I don't know what his problem is. Sometimes I feel like I have to stand up for him because everyone's completely pissed at him and I don't like that cuz' he's still my dad. And he does all these things like pick out the boneless parts of the fish for me and pick me up from various places. And I also try to remember that he's always there for me and that he loves me so much.

So why do I feel like he's changed. Like he's so mean to everyone now. He constantly blows his top off. He made my brother yell. No one has ever made my brother yell. My brother does not yell.

Why do I feel like sometimes, I don't have a daddy I can talk to. And he hurts my mum.

And she cries. And he continues not to see that it doesn't matter whether he's right or not. It's how everyone feels. And they feel like shit. And they keep fighting. And my mum said she wants to leave him. If she could, she would.

I think the only thing keeping them together is the catholic faith. And it's not even like a 'the faith keeps us together' thing. It's a 'I'm catholic. They said no divorces. Damn.' thing.

So what is the point of staying together if you hurt so much? I'm not questioning God here... but I wish he could help. I'm just so tired of constantly putting up a front. Brother said to talk to him. But I'm scared. He doesn't see me as a grown-up daughter, I'm still a kid. In his eyes. I'll never be anything more.

I keep praying to God for things. I don't even deserve them. I'm probably one of the worst catholics in the world now. And I still keep asking him for stuff. It's like I think he's santa claus.

I can't face anyone anymore. I'm trying... but I keep giving in to the bad things. And I'm still hurting for all the pain. And my family isn't as strong as it used to be. And I'm so scared everything will just crumble. And I will have no more of anything.

I'm so scared. You don't know how scared I am. I want to talk to someone... but I don't think I deserve that pleasure.

We can go if you want to, we can leave your friends behind.

So I decided to give a short piece today. In case I don't get to. Ever.

School was pretty fun. I mean, sure, I spent, like, ONE good productive hour in it, but it really wasn't that bad.

I took the attendance today, which made me feel quite important. :DDD (Oh Gosh, how the small things please me..)

ELEVEN of us came today. Which was like, WOAH. But it was actually SO much more fun having a small class.

We took over a TA class and made them scram (HAHA) and then played music while finishing our cards for the teachers.

Got displaced. Because apparently.... lessons are still going on... (IT'S STAFF DAY PEOPLE!!) But it didn't matter much. We went round giving out our cards.

First was Miss Wong. We crashed her session with her class and presented our card. And when she came out of the class, my mouth opened and I went, "Happy Birthd-" And of course, everyone in her class heard. Because the amplitude of my voice is unfortunately comparable with those of jet planes. And after Miss Wong went back into the room, echos of the 'Happy birthday' song could be heard.

After that, my class sang Happy Birthday to all the teachers. (Ms Kwan, Mr Low and Ms Li.) And they called it the Law of Steph. Which states that One must sing Happy Birthday for a teacher on Teachers' Day. The assumptions are: 1. It must not be a teacher's actual birthday. 2. The teacher is present to hear it.

I had fun annoying ZY, as usual. Taking apart his wallet to his dismay.

The concert was.... Well, as far as school concerts go, I probably had better. But the point was, cute boy. :DD 'Nuff said.

Anyway, I really really like my class. I think I don't mention it enough. From my initial apprehensions, I now really have a class that I feel so belonged in. And that I love. I haven't had that since Primary 6 Frangipani.

A special shoutout to Huang Huiling who is turning 18 on the 7th of September. I know you love us. We love you too. Enjoy the scrapbook! :) (All the hard work was worth it when she teared in joy. :D)

And hugs to my girls (Janice, Ping, Vonne and Wen) and the annoying boys who have apparently made me the centre of bullying since Vonne wasn't there. (ZY, Henry, Oliver, Che Xuan.)

I'm hearing what you say but I just can't make a sound.

Joan and I were discussing about our futures. It's fun to talk about what may happen in 10 years or so. Maybe the little patter of feet will grace our ears.

Anyway, it's the national day holiday tomorrow, so I decided to stay up a little late and do up this little 'Godparent' chart for memories' sake.

Isn't this awesome?

Lunatic for a god or a God for a lunatic.

EEE. I have Eye Candy. HAHAHAHA.

I like how we see each other a lot. HAHAHA.

God, I am SUCH a girl.

Well, with the crazy THING happening to me, I need distractions.

Thanks, cute boy!

You can't escape my private eyes

Okay. I'm not normally a bitch. So I really do feel bad. For the repercussions of my actions. I apologise.
I also need to say... I do forgive you, but you don't have my trust anymore. I'm sorry. It's too crazy for me, so while I wanna remain friends with you, you gotta earn my trust.

Okay. I'm sorry. I tried. I thought I could do it. I can't. It would be better if we don't speak. Yup. Until I decide you deserve to direct words to me.

(Edited on 06.08.2010)
On another note, I missed hanging out with Azzy and Kenny. (HAHAHA. I'm so gonna call him Kenny to annoy him.)

They shop like GIRLS. Except they have NO clue what to buy. Gosh.

And they haven't stopped being annoying. Which is endearing because they can get really stupid and crazy and it's fun, whether or not I ever admit it to them.

Silly boys. HAHA. Them and their weefies.

The topic of the day was 'Everything you do changes your life.'

They would scream, 'STOP STEPH. DOING THAT WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE!' at random intervals.

And they wanted to publish a book on it. And win the Nobel Prize with the one million dollars.

I didn't have the heart to tell them that they already have a book on it. Books, actually. It's called the 'butterfly effect' and basically encompassed all they mentioned.

But I didn't dare ruin their fun.

Oh god. Tomorrow's gonna be a nightmare.

Honesty is what you need

Okay. I wrote quite a bit... apparently blogger decided to be a little annoying.

No matter. This isn't really a angsty, kill-me-now post.

But let me start with something simple, if just to let this post run smoothly..

I told my class girls about my eye candy. And of course, because they are so cute and weird all at once, they giggle every time he passes by now.

Or tug on my shirt relentlessly. Or whack me on the arm, making odd noises. Or raise an eyebrow and give a wry grin.

I really do love their antics, no matter how annoying they can get. They are really sweet, which is the bottom line so we'll leave it at that.

Anyway, I got myself out of my misery. So that means I no longer am able to use this handy laptop I do love and hate at the same time. And I'm really cool with that! Only, that also means I no longer will be blogging. Much, if at all, really.

So yes, if I'm not in Durham, Warwick or Southampton next year, I probably got into NUS law and decided for some reason to stay in singapore. Or I decided to change career courses. Or I got eaten by a hungry gorilla carrying flame torches.

And I would like to thank my readers (Any ones left? No? That's really odd...) for their time in scanning through what would be a few years worth of nonsense and 'OMG KILL ME NOW' crap. :)

This is a video from 'How I Met Your Mother'. It is an awesome show, watch it. In this video, Barney Stinson explains to the rest that you have to wait 3 days before asking a girl out because Jesus said so. It's hilarious.

I get knocked down, but I get up again. You're never gonna keep me down.

I wanted to blog last night after Mark's wedding. But the internet in my room went on the fritz, so you know, I couldn't/didn't/felt like kicking something.

Last night was awesome. As with all weddings in my family, I get to spend it dressed up and catching up with my lovely 'cousins', Bernadette (we call her Bernie or Bern'), Marissa (M'rissa), Vanessa (Been calling her 'Vaness' since she was a tyke) and Mark (He's a smaller version of the Mark that got married. Really. They were both nightmares as kids and the small one's growing up to be a strapping young man just like the older one.)

I am extremely close to them, seeing as to how the rest of my cousins have an average age of almost 30. Oh right. And I call them my 'cousins' because technically, we aren't related by blood in any way, but our families are super close and any form of romance developing between both would seem like incest. Even though it's lawfully not. HAHA.

So I love hanging out with them. Catching up about our current 'predicaments' and talking about other family members (gossiping more like) and everything else. And at every wedding where we all present together (meaning, mostly my family's weddings), we will dance and dance and dance and feel like popstars.

It's a tradition that we started when we were young. It started with the oldest, Bernie, Marissa and myself grooving to my brother's old hi-fi set (Same one that's in my room currently) and making up crazy moves to 'That Thing You Do' by The Wonders. (That's why it's still one of my favourites up till today) It moved on to classics like the Macarena. After a while, we would pass on the dance moves to the younger ones. (Although I'm pretty sure we didn't do that till we were much older. Were quite selfish and 'exclusive' as kids.)

Anyway, to cut the story short, I was really happy last night. Knowing that I'll always have these people in my lives is a huge blessing. And that we can party our socks off is amazing. One day, I'll invite them to go clubbing. :)

How's this for a fluff piece?  :D

I just need a shoulder to cry on...

... So how come I can't even get that as a luxury?

It's not fair how just because you are able to, you can shout your way to the high heavens.

And all I want is to be comforted.

I comfort everyone else... Why can't someone comfort me?

Is there something we are waiting for?

I haven't touched my blog for a long while. The reasons vary, none of them important. I don't know why I decided to reopen this transparent vault that has dutifully shown every single drop of emotion I display.

Let's start with the quite-popular '1 Litre of Tears'. It was formally introduced to me by dear Anne while we were still in Secondary School. However, I was never much of a Japanese pop culture kind of person, much less one that indulged in shows that leaked you of your body's natural liquid.

Let's skip to the part where I 'stole' almost everything from Alex's HDD. My curiosity piqued at the familiar-sounding title and I immediately asked Alex about the show. He warned me about the imminent bout of tears that would fall; I cared not to listen. I rarely cried at movies, save Nicholas Sparks' The Notebook, so why not just take a gander?

Now, we shall pause at that particular scene and I will bring you to the start of my week. I set my alarm at 7am and woke up at 930 instead. So what, you shrug in nonchalance, it's the bloody holidays and you wake up a little past the usual. No big deal. Yeah, it WAS no big deal. Except I wasted the whole day not studying because 'I didn't feel like it'. Okay fine. It's one day. I shouldn't get so worked up over it, right?

Only, this disgusting feeling lasted until Wednesday. Three days of not touching a book. Some of you may be gasping in pure disbelief right now. 'WHAT! NOOOO...' Yes, my mid-terms are fast approaching, and I'm not buried five feet deep in books served only to push my grades to an acceptable above-average?

I honestly don't know how to answer any of those. Really. I could give you a really good reason if I wanted to. 'I was feeling rather sick. Really couldn't do much.' But that would be pathetic. Period. The truth was, I was about to slowly sink into pseudo-depression. Slowly, but surely. I would mope about the house, a constant naggy 'C'MON! STUDY, YOU LAZY SHIT!' rang in my ear again and again. It didn't help, of course. My mind is like both mother and child. It screams 'Get out your math!' and then groans with a 'Okaaaay... Just let me play one game of tap tap.' And of course, stuck with my slow sink into mope-town, the child gets a landslide win.

So today, after an embarrassing two hours of tuition where I managed to prove to my teacher that I was giving him $440 a month for nothing, I decided to 'hit the books' (mother said) 'after one or two episodes of '1 litre of tears' '(the child bargained).

Of course, the pseudo-depression still kicking in, and the child still having a strong grip on his win, I ended up finishing everything. (If you didn't realise, I unpaused the scene from five paragraphs ago.)

It turned out to be one of the best choices I made this week. The story is amazing. Simple and easy to follow, and yet, it grips your heart and doesn't let go. Not even 3 hours after finishing the last 5 minutes. The emotions displayed are so real. Sometimes relatable, sometimes sympathy-inducing. I literally spilled one litre of tears watching the entire thing.

Okay. And here's the part where my blatant advertisement for the movie and my mope-y week link...

I realise how lucky I am to be able to get depressed over a couple of stupid papers. Papers that I would never again have to see in my life after this year. (Unless I become a teacher, God forbid.) There are always people worse off than you. No matter what situation you find yourself unable to claw your way out of. You may be the world's most lazy ass. So what.

And another thing, I keep forgetting how incredibly gifted I am. No, I am not being an arrogant shit. Heck, everyone is incredibly gifted. No shit. But we all forget. We lift our weaknesses to a god-like status, on the other hand and point it out to everyone else who cares enough to listen.

'I'm fat.' So what? You are an awesome friend, so many people care for you it should be a sin, and you are pretty smart when you bother to apply yourself. Why harp on one bad thing when God's pratctically screaming 'LOOK HERE! GIFT! GIFT!'?

I still don't know the reason for my pseudo-depression. Really, I don't. Maybe the time of the month is fast approaching. Maybe. Whatever the reason, I need to keep reminding myself that my life is not my own. You may think that you get to decide whatever it is you want in life. You learn that it's true only to an extremely small extent. You get to decide how much you wanna study, doesn't mean you decide what grades you get. (Yes, teachers blurt that in your face, but do you really think that's true?)

So, yes. I don't know how much of that anyone understood. Hell, I don't even know if I understand all of it. Call it a good rant at worse. Happy studying for those stuck in the phase called the 'Advanced Levels'. Happy holidays for the rest. If you belong to neither group, oops.

I'm going to study now. After a quick session of Facebook. Promise!

This world will never be what I expected.

Okay. So here's the main scoop. I got a new phone, and the Internet is completely impossible to use over there. Or maybe I'm too used to the capabilities of my very reliable itouch. Whatever the case may be, it sure beats my old broken down phone, so I ain't complaining.

Right. Onto the subject proper. I keep having the same disgusting feeling. Again and again. And it's so gross. And yet I can't get rid of it. It's like a disease. It's so disgusting. It's turned me into a person I don't like. A person that can never look her Lord in the eye again.

I feel like I'm slowly slipping away from my faith. The funny thing is that it's so slow, I can barely feel it. And yet, I know. I don't have that oomph feeling I get when I talk about Him now. I just get a sad little hurrah that barely makes it out of my lips in one sound.

I know he'll forgive me for the things I've done, but then again, I don't feel like I should be forgiven. I feel like him forgiving me would be wayyy too easy for Him to do it. And yet I know I can't go on without him. That I'll probably need to go running to him soon... Like now, for instance.

The Lord is super disappointed in me. That much I know. I feel like such a failure.

Right now, I don't have anymore motivation. I feel like I'm hanging on a thread, not knowing where it'll swing to, when it'll break...

It's such a sad sad day when u know that all you have going for you... Is nothing.