Scribbles #24

Sometimes it is easy to imagine that love is a pool of muddy swamp. 

It looks murky and sombre - the last place on earth we'd want to be near to.

But the thing is, we often got ourselves caught in the puddle, sinking and drowning;

you would scream and yell for help for all you could,

but admit it,

deep down, you hope to be wholly swallowed.

Because, after all, who wants to get up when they fell in love?

(Book Review) The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath

Details:

TITLE: The Bell Jar

AUTHOR: Sylvia Plath

GENRE: Semi-Autobiography

PUBLISHER: Faber Firsts

ISBN: 9780571245642

PAGES: 234

Review:

There is something mesmerisingly mystique about The Bell Jar, as the authoress committed suicide weeks after the publication in 1963. Why, you wondered, would she do that? The gruesome answer seems to be lurking deep within the pages; it is easy and tempting to believe that, if you could finish reading the book - and somehow penetrate deep into the mental realm of Sylvia Plath - you could understand the cause(s) of her suffering, and somewhat save her.

Appalling news on the death sentences of the Rosenbergs opens the novel, planting an uncomfortable seed that seems to insinuate that death is what the authoress has in mind as an endgame. The story, serving as a semi-autobiography, details the daily encounters of the protagonist, Esther Greenwood, who seems to be the alter ego of Plath in the semi-fictitious world. Between the encounters, though, are flashbacks from the past which seem to echo with the author's background. 

With what Esther is experiencing in the present, and her interval flashbacks, the novel appears to be a linear storyteller - until you catch one or two chilling sentences that are slipped in between the events. These sentences seem to be describing the events, or rather how Esther/Sylvia feels towards the events; but if you read between the lines, you would find them insights of a depressed person.

Esther/Sylvia first expressed her helplessness in the midst of a fast-paced city life, "I felt very still and empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo". The alcohol and sex, manifestations of dirty sins of the big city, seem to appall her, as she writes that she needs to cleanse herself and become pure again, "I said so myself, ... all that liquor and those sticky kisses I saw and the dirt that settled on my skin on the way back is turning into something pure. The longer I lay here in the clear hot water [in the tub] the purer I felt..."

As the story progressed, it is noticed that her depression is getting more serious as she feels emptier inside. At times her pessimism reveals itself between the lines, showing signs that she does not trust others anymore, "If you expect nothing from somebody you are never disappointed", or signs that she reckons pain is inevitable, "...the drug would make her forget how bad the pain had been, when all the time, in some secret part of her, that long, blind, doorless and windowless corridor of pain was waiting to open up and shut her in again".

It is indeed difficult to comprehend the differences between Sylvia and Esther as it goes on - you seem to be reading about the same person. In the final chapter, the novel ends when the protagonist walks into a room for an interview to determine if she could check-out from the mental hospital. If the scene is seen as an analogy, where the interview is a series of tests in real life, and the outcome is decided by the board of interviewers, who plays the role as the higher up power, it then leaves the readers hanging in midair - they must determine what would become of Esther/Sylvia. 

Discussion Question

Given the fact that Sylvia Plath ultimately killed herself weeks after the publication of the book, which could be interpreted as an outcome of the "interview" in the ending of the novel, do you think that Sylvia passed the interview test? It is easy to gravitate to the belief that she failed the test, and her depression ultimately claimed her; but could it also be as a form of emancipation from her depression? 

New!

We can never get back what we've lost.

For that, we should fight to keep what we have.

Pandora's Hope

I think it's time we lift the lid from Pandora's box, and let go of the tiniest bit of Hope left inside. It deserved its freedom long time ago, just as much as I deserved mine.

scribbles # 23

Nothing prided me more when I spoke of you in front of others, I told them, "my heart beats only for you".

Expecting yours to do the same, I have been bewildered and astounded when you acted so indifferently.

Like how fireworks only passionately blossom for the cool Moon; like how a skipping pebble desperately dancing on the calm water surface; like how a tempered fire caressing a concrete beam to heat things up. Everything I did, turned out to be in vain. And in pain.

For a long time, I didn't understand why I could become so unhappy, in the process of making you happy.
I never understood it. I mean, shouldn't yours beat for me too? Why were you so indifferent?

And then I realised it.

Of course my heart would beat for you, while yours wouldn’t do the same. You are heartless.

scribbles # 22

I remember that one time you asked me, bluntly, if I still love you.

Wanting to hide the truth, I search frantically in my mind, trying to tell you a story instead.

But honey, I ran out of happy endings.

Scribbles #21

I just realised why I love the stars; why I constantly wish upon the stars, that my love for you would be requited.

It's not because stars yield a certain mystical power that would grant my little wish come true.

Nor, it is because I believe that the blue fairy could hear me, and with a flick of a wand, could save me from my misery.

I realised, at last, that the reason I wish upon the stars is because, like you, they are so out of my reach.

They could never be mine.

Well, so shall you.

scribbles # 20

You are like a thief, come my way and steal my heart.

You are like a robber, come my way and rob me of my innocence.

You are just a criminal, for when you come, I can't help but to surrender myself to you.

scribbles # 19

Sometimes I think, I have been so blind, to not be able to see how you have changed. I am so blind, that I still think you are beside me; when the truth is, you are a thousand miles away from me.

Sometimes I think, you are blind too: to not be able to see how wet my pillow is. My heart is broken beyond repair, how could you not see the blood on my chest?

I hear they say love is blind, and we are blind when we are in love. I just didn't think this kind of blindness will occur, I was expecting another kind of blindness.

In Psychology, object permanence is the understanding that objects would continue to exist even when they cannot be seen, heard or touched.

Think of this experiment that Piaget carried out. Infants over 2 years old could understand that their toys behind the card are still there, and would vie to grab hold of them; while baby infants would not cry when their mothers leave the room.

Think of stars. When the wind blows and the stars, high above in the sky, blink as if they are going to disappear; you would never have to worry, cause you know the stars will still be there. When a dark big patch of cumulonimbus covers the stars, you know they will always be there for ages.

Now think of me. When I am gone, will you still think of me? When I am out of your sight, will you be like a toddler over 2 years old, frantically searching for me? Or would you regard I am no longer here, out of sight, out of mind?

The Alacrity

It was the first day of my brand new college life in INTI, as I drove across buildings painted with different colors with alphabetical initials of A, B, C and D.

The car slowly came to a halt in front of the Confucius Block and I clumsily started unloading my bags and whatnots from the bonnet of the car. Now that I think of it, fresh images of that particular day is still vivid in my mind.

My journey in INTI, no doubt, has its ups and downs. It started off rocky, as I was unsure about myself filled with doubts and uncertainties. But I moved on to transform into a better person, and stepped out to socialize with others.

Fast forward 5 semesters, here I am slowly typing away as time passes waiting for my clothes in the dryer. 80% of my stuffs are packed and the rest of the things should remain here to be part of the memories in the room. I had no qualms that knowing a group of fantabulous friends from different parts of Malaysia has truly magnified my scope of friendship.

We're still very far away from achieving what we came here for. To obtain an American degree in the land they claimed filled with opportunities from every corner of the country. From the Big Apple to the marvelous architecture of California Academy of Sciences, to the Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls we can only tell how great are they from pictures until we truly witness them with our eyes.

I can't believe I'm feeling slightly emotional. Ok clothes done!

Have a safe holiday, and till then we'll never know when we can meet again :)

Love Is In The Air

You know how people always say that when you're in love, you see the world through rose colored glasses? It can't get any truer than that.

Looking at the world through rose colored glasses,
Everything is rosy now.
Looking at the world and everything that passes,
Seems of rosy hue somehow.
Why do I feel so spry, don't wink your eye,
Needn't guess I'll confess, certain someone just said yes.
In a bungalow all covered with roses, I will settle down I vow,
That's why I'm looking at the world through rose colored glasses,
Everything is rosy now.
Oh yes, I'm looking at the world through rose colored glasses,
Everything is rosy now.
Looking at the world and everything that passes,
Seems of rosy hue somehow.
Why do I feel so spry, don't wink your eye,
Needn't guess I'll confess, certain someone just said yes.
In a bungalow all covered with roses, I will settle down I vow,
That's why I'm looking at the world through rose colored glasses,
Everything is rosy now.
Yes, everything is rosy now.

~Frank Sinatra~

My new found respect for Composers out there

in midst of loneliness (yes, you read it) and absolute boredom i finally laid my hands on "Garage Band" thinking perhaps my solitude could be translated into some really cool tunes. oh well, you'll be the judge of it.

this is ladies and gentleman, my FIRST ever tune from garage band. i think for a first time, its really not bad if you're fan of daft punk and sleigh bells! blah

and totally fucked up the stereo, apparently i mashed too much audio my mackie went siao halfway i thought thats the end of it. so this is the remains of whats half done. reminder Its halF HALF HALF *defensive*
link below!

link here!

here here also!

maybe this would be useful for school children moral projects? =D

thus what do you think? as for me, i am positive i have absolute no interest in making / producing music. 

never knew this could be THIS HECTIC. i reallly have a new found respect for all those musicians out there. this is not an easy challenge at all. * plonks dead *

it's christmas babe. shower me with grief.

under the mistletoe we could share a kiss.

oh you know, just misery and me.

scribbles # 18

if the world is round, would we still meet even if we part ways?

the question has never been about how much you can hope; it's about how much you can cope.

oh darling, wipe your tears.

if you are so afraid to cry, why did you dream so high?

Expectations

Is hard to live up to others expectations,

Is even harder to live up to your friends and families expectations,

Is always hardest to live up to your own expectations.

Things you think is right, may proved to be wrong to others,
What others expect from you, is not what you can produce to them.

So when the society decides to put you on stage, and scrutinize every single action of yours, you just have to live up to their expectations.

To please them. To look good and showcase your abilities.

But, how true is the things you do, to yourself?

When is the last time you asked yourself what you really want in life?

Library

Was at the library alone, staring forlornly into the space thinking deep.

Had a book in front of me, but I was randomly browsing through it not really bothered to look at it any further.

Instead something caught my attention, the people rushing in and out of the library.

When I was walking to class in the morning, I enjoyed the cool morning breeze and the warm sun with the occasional squirrel encounter on the road.

Life can be simple.

But i guess simplicity has its price

Ok got to rush for class now running late, sorry for the random post, Bye!

Scribble #17

Every night I place my head under the pillow.

I could, for a minute, divulge my fears to my tears.

But the thing is, sometimes I feel so suffocated underneath the pillow. I feel like the air around me has gone away, and it seems like I can't breathe at all.

Just when I think that I would die from suffocation and I need to remove the pillow, then I realise, is there a difference if I remove it at all?

The logic is very simple, you see: if no one can hear me crying, then no one could see me dying.

Scribbles #16

They say you can live without that someone. That you won't really die. 'Cause you are really so strong.

Well if merely taking breathes away while waiting faithfully for your own demise constitutes the definition of living, then yes, I am living.

In fact, never having to worry if that someone is thinking about you at the same time just made me feel that I have found my fairy-tale ending - and I am living happily ever after, with myself.

Who's whose substitute?

I was lying on a bed, looking at the spinning fan on the ceiling. Such a speed, would it crash? Would it not run out of control? I wondered, will the fan ever become bored, being pinned down at a fixated focal point on the ceiling; or is that the reason why it is spinning so madly - to try to break free from the nuts and bolts that bound it?

Doesn't it resemble my life, running around in circles - happily believing that with every turns, I would, I could, find myself a new hope to go on - which in the end only to realise how foolish I was to end up at the starting point, over and over again.

There were times I was so tough and built to last. Like a shiny robot crafted by an adroit scientist, I could not get scratched by all these cuts. I was very surprised to find myself that, one day, I was capable of bleeding. That I have the permission to cry. That I was made of blood and flesh. The wound was stitched, and I put on band aids, of course, made of hope.

Then fateful one day, when I happen to run out of hope, I thought maybe the wound has healed; maybe it has become a scar. I tear the band aid away, and I realise it was bleeding. It took me some moment to realise I was the one that caused the bleeding - that tearing the band aid away is like unplugging a leaking dam - all hell is to break loose.

I was lying on the bed, looking at the spinning fan on the ceiling. I have a lot of questions running through my mind, demanding answers. But one thing is for sure.

The fan isn't the only thing spinning that night.

Follies of Youth

Perhaps I was mistaken and we were never meant to be after all. The first steps I took at the beginning with you, they were so full of joy and hope and we-- Well, I was so convinced that soul mates do exist and that I have found mine. Alas, the follies of youth.

Since then, much have we been through. The bad times more prominent than the good, yet we held on, foolishly believing there is anything left to salvage. I wear my heart on my sleeve for you and the world to see, but you have locked yours and the key sunk into the depths of the ocean. And my foolish girlhood dreams of love, shattered.

Why am I kept shackled if you refuse to open your heart to me? Your chains are the frailest of threads, yet woven intricately with the sharpest of thorns. Your ardent words of my freedom are riddled with self pity, and with guilt playing at a string of my heart, how am I to unbound myself of ye.

I can no longer tell between the dichotomy of love and mere lingering attachment. Or perhaps, it is simply that I have yet to taste the true flavor of love...

Meaningless post that I like!

A perfectionist's list (★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ perfectionist deserves many many stars wtf)

You can call me kiasu, self-absorbed, self-centered, selfish, starfish, opportunist, or whatever shit lah. Let's all be realistic and listen!

I just need a heavy dose of sarcasm to wake me up from this reverie. How I got so incensed over people who acted smart and those slumber people is getting right on my nerves. Before you know it, I start to spit fire *RAGES*

Anyway I've come up with this jaw-dropping, ear-splitting(not audible in this case), eyes-rolling, body-turning, lips smacking (just in case) list of being a perfectionist (but again is highly unattainable, just a thought only okay!)

• Attend ivy league schools (or Top 10 Universities in the world) No, thank you very much I'm not a nerd but waittttt! *strangulated voice*
  
  

Natalie Portman graduated high school with a 4.0 and headed off to Harvard where she received a Bachelor’s Degree in psychology. She attended Hebrew University on a graduate level and is fluent in Hebrew, French and Japanese. *JAW DROP*

Matt Damon - A consistent straight-A student through grade school and high school, Matt studied English at Harvard University. *ENGLISH MAJOR(in your face), nah not that nerd also!*

Adam Sandler went to New York University where he majored in Fine Arts; a common degree for those who want to pursue a career in acting. *This one slightly failed but is NYU, so indirectly draws back all the negativity he had on his head back then :P*

Thanks for reading bye.

The Will To Win

If you want a thing bad enough

To go out and fight for it,

Work day and night for it,

Give up your time and your peace and

your sleep for it

If only desire of it

Makes you quite mad enough

Never to tire of it,

Makes you hold all other things tawdry

and cheap for it

If life seems all empty and useless without it

And all that you scheme and you dream is about it,

If gladly you'll sweat for it,

Fret for it, Plan for it,

Lose all your terror of God or man for it,

If you'll simply go after that thing that you want.

With all your capacity,

Strength and sagacity,

Faith, hope and confidence, stern pertinacity,

If neither cold poverty, famished and gaunt,

Nor sickness nor pain

Of body or brain

Can turn you away from the thing that you want,

If dogged and grim you besiege and beset it,

You'll get it!

Berton Braley

Hello, March

I am anonymous and androgynous.

"Death erases all traces, all memories of lives that once existed, completely and forever. Of course we help it in its task—we’re the ones who do the forgetting.” - Tash Aw

-taken from photobucket.

再见亦是朋友

从前从前，有个男跟女，他们是好朋友。

他们无所不谈，什么都可以聊，还不时逗对方开心。

可是，他们的关系突然来个180度急转弯，

她突然不再联络他了，不再sms，不再谈天，不再互逗对方了，

他每天都等待着她上线，盼望着有一天她会睬他，

但他们却由从前的无所不谈演变成现今的沉默相对。

他开始觉得不习惯了，他顿时觉得很空虚，一直想找回从前的那个感觉。

他不断地寻找各种途径去联络她，以挽回一段他珍惜已久的情谊，

可是她却不断地回避他......敷衍他，一次又一次地对他冷言相向。

在这僵持不下的情况下，他唯有选着缅怀过去也不敢再打扰她了。

其实,他一直都知道那女的暗恋他。他懂的...真的懂！

他不是植物人，他真的感觉到......体会到她的那一份情谊。

但他却迟迟没有接受她或向她表白，

不是因为样貌或身份问题，而是他知道最终是不会又结果的。

他明白远距离恋爱是行不通的，因为这需要大量的信任及忠诚度来维持下去。

结果，他做了一个让他现今非常懊悔的决定，就是给了她一个假希望！

他从未想过要欺骗她的感情，他只不过想在他离开前能留给她最美好的回忆，

但这反而害了她，让她泥足深陷，

所以他宁愿隐瞒着她，也不想告诉她真相，

因为他不忍心看着一个那么天真可爱的女生受伤害！

可是，他错了......还错得很离谱！他现在才明白他所做的一切反而伤得她更深！

男：“我们还是朋友吗？“

女：”是，但我们不可能再好像以前这样了。”

她的每一字，每一句就犹如冷箭般地刺进了他的心坎里，他再也感受不到以前的那股暖流了。

他真的很懊悔他所做的一切...简直无地自容，她回避他，也是应该的！

因为这若发生在他身上，他也可能会酱做，因为他也不懂要如何面对她！

现在的他，并不期望些什么...

他只想跟她说一声：

对

不

起

！！

但是，她真的能听到他心中的呐喊及愧疚吗？

他衷心地希望时间能淡化一切，然后她会再找回他，跟他谈天，

或许无法像以前一样亲密，但至少不再互相回避对方！

再见亦是朋友！

可是，真的会有那么一天吗？？ 他真的不敢抱太大期望。

要等到那一天的到来，是一件那么遥不可及的事.......................

*若有雷同，纯属虚构＊

亨

Scribbles #15

Strike me with fear and strike me with terror,

but my heart is immune from Cupid's arrows;

I do not know how well this scribble would rhyme,

I only know, quite well, that you would never be mine.

Pink Peach Diary #2

PINK PEACH DIARY

Tuesday 22 February 2011 - 9.37 pm

My current situation could only be best exampled with the accounting theory i am currently studying for tomorrow's test.

my time spent on passing by his house is getting from periodic to perpetual habit. Not exactly attractive.

Skip that. New skill acquired - patience and poise.

Come to think, what's more attractive than a woman with patience and poise rather than oversensitivity and anger. I'm amanda and i'm a patient and poise.

wish me luck for accounting yawl ! *paws*

Untitled #1

here's a cluster of glittery dreams, fueled by the charms of evergreen;

a reluctant heart pumped by damn morphine, says goodbye to forever grim.

high up in the sky an eaglet sears, circling mid-air to see if Luck is near,

in the cacophony of emotions I hold most dear, contaminated tears struck heart in fear;

Relationships VS Time.

There are a few fundamental rules I have been following religiously for the past few months. There’s no 100% guarantee on how effective this is, but I am pretty sure its close to a 99% . so what are the rules I am dying to share about? Trust me on this, and its not one of those anti-acne advertising, ollla, I’m talking about the basics rules of life when dealing with relationship-particularly, when being in a position where u’re uncertain of your relationship.

Not everyone is blessed with the sparks and glitter and fireworks passion and fire being in a relationship- at least not in my case. For the past 10 months, my love life have been put to a test- which sooner I realize it wasn’t my love life that was put into test, it was me, myself.

So, this is a rather long-winded scenario of how I came out with it- or you can just opt to skip this and go straight to my priority list.

It just started when one day, I was terribly upset when my fling couldn’t make it on time (for the 10^th time or more) to meet me up- hey he’s just living next door. And so, I spent hours contemplating and bombarded with images of him cheating around or nonchalant of my existence.  My imagination insecurities when put together , it could form a cumulonimbus cloud.

every single expectation i had, seem to be put to a disappointment. so how do i avoid further disappointment after so many confrontation?

And then, an awful feeling struck, I realize, I have been spending weeks and so, and wandering my mind off my work wallowing in dubious thoughts when all I needed was a confrontation.

I have been studying consistently, my priorities are in tact – but at that moment, I felt intense guilt over time wasted on that matter.

Worse, despite the guilt, I still couldn’t comfort my thoughts and lay my priorities again.

The time that I spent wasting on these thought would have been much more worth to be spent on harnessing my accounts and calculus studies that will surely promise a positive benefit in comparision to hours spent on a man.

In relationships of uncertainties, I realize I need to come out with a form of solution. By making incremental change with consistency, i believe it can make a difference. this is a little exercise to building up resistance from distraction.

Rule 1 : list out practical and achievable priorities in life in a notebook.

Rule 2 : keep referring to your priorities and spend 10 minutes a daily thinking of what you can improve about yourself- never waste time on people who could potentially hurt your feelings. Stick to your closest friend and family =)

Rules 3 : carry out your priorities.

Rule 4 : like oxygen, breathe and live according to these 4 fundamental rules.

I realize ever since I’ve ruled out this method. I deal with procastination lesser. Given months ago, I would have opt to dwell in my emotions/insecurities and probably gone to bangsar and spend 3 hours complaining to my best friend so much, it has become a die-hard habit instead of moving on a be productive.

Lastly, have fun!

With love, me !

PINK PEACH DIARY

I've decided since i've have my own written diary, why not i share it with you all. so here it goes written by yours truly *flicks hair in glittered background*

Monday 21 February

2.oo am- doing accounts although was supposed to meet him to watch "The Notebook" at 10 FUCKING PM. no calls no nothing as promised. fuck .he's definitely on my Death Note list.

7.30 am-woke up at  and decided to sleep for another 1.2 hour before 8.30 class.

received text from Michelle saying she saw a girl ( she better be fat and fugly) coming out of his room.

my mind went berserk

!#!@$@#$@#%#$%#$#^%$ !!! !#!@#!!!

calmly pick up a solution like a poised lady and decided to investigate on that instead of jumping to conclusions - thanks to CCTV camera in my apartment ;)

YOU would say, we're not in a relationship, thus we both can cheat. WELL, I don't give a flying FUCK.

10.30am - had breakfast at Chillax after telling Michelle and Nicole about my swell idea - which they both find rather unnecessary, anyway yes. i'm doing it.

10.45am - In Chillax Cafe and the first page it flipped on Cleo(Nov 2009 issue 169) was an article titled " Is it time to dump him".
xx. me.

Time

Anything just anything to turn it back and start all over again.

This is how i will start if i were to write my own love story!

drowning in a dried up well,

a walk in heaven where angels dwell;

for better or worse, i couldn't tell,

this is a story where in love i fell.

Things I feel like talking but can't seem to get it out.

On this silent street, lies a house once filled with warmth, happiness and joy.A house that echoed with the laughter of children in the afternoon, and quibbles at night. And it drifted away just like that.

10 years ago, the exact description seemed to fit perfectly into my life. A life without worrying of tomorrow, when I can sleep, play and enjoy myself in my own realm.

A life that I am contented with, without the need of internet or materials. That was me, 10 years ago. Feed me with good amount of food, bring me out to shopping malls, and short trips to grandma house. Sitting in the back of car, popping my head up behind the window as I passed by roads that I became familiarized with is somewhere in the back of my mind vividly clear.

I told myself to work hard from then onwards, to strive harder in life for profitable returns in order to repay the kindness/warmth and care that I once received unconditionally.

Although I was never rich, I prided myself for getting nicer/better things in life. I was clothed with KIKILALA or LADYBIRD, with sport shoes that I reckoned is the "Nike" for my age. I was happy just like that.

I didn't demand much as a 10 year old kid. I had my troubled times, but I hold firm to my own belief that as long as I get over this, better things will come my way. I moved on into different chapters of my life, encountering people as I go along that I called best friends, archenemies, or friends that I could confide in.

Things changed, weather changed, people changed. Despite all the hardships that I've been through, I never once told anyone about the bitter part of my life. I was that strong.

But then, God decided to put me into a test I can no longer handle. My strength can no longer be the impenetrable shield that could block myself from everything. Everything has weakness. I feel my willingness to move on had stopped, I no longer hope for tomorrow,I wished the time can just stop now.

The essence of life is not there anymore. The one I hoped to see in the future, that I can take care of is a question with no answer. My happiness fled in that instant moment.

The vision I had 10 years ago now, is nothing but a void of emptiness filled with sorrow, sadness and bitterness that slowly crept into me.

What's left in me?

What's left to hope for? Can there really be future from this point? cause I can't see anymore and i don't wish to see.

Appreciate. The clock is ticking.

Scribbles #14

Sometimes I think my heart is made of ice,

it is so heavy and yet so light;

it is so cold, and yet it's the perfect conductor of heat.

Sometimes I think my heart is made of ice,

only the ones who are not afraid of my coldness, could hold it without letting go.

Sometimes I think my heart is made of ice,

'cause it is destined to melt, or to shatter into a million pieces.

Back In The Days

If there was an era I wish I could go back in time to, it would be the 1970-80's, back when my mum and her 5 siblings were in their teens/ young adult years.

PS: I used to live nearby here :)

The stories of their youth lit a candle in my young heart; of how they hold parties every Saturday night, strumming the guitar in the back alley of my childhood home, picnics by the rivers whenever possible.

In the rustic town of Ipoh, it used to be alight with youths and happening people in general. I've seen pictures of the same streets then and now, and I have no words to describe the vast difference - it's almost like one's in a totally different part of the world. Where the streets are now dodgy and dark, it used to be lively and full of life. Food stalls everywhere, busy bustling roads of people and trishaw, chitter chatter of young and old folks alike filled the town with live.

Back in those days, no one would've been able to comprehend the existence such as an iPhone, a PSP or a computer. Owning a simple radio is already considered a sign of wealth, even more so if one has a refrigerator. Yet they live a happy sociable life, unlike us whose souls are bound by the dark forces of technology.

The spend their days in school, hanging out with a bunch of friends after, caroling down the streets, whistling at passing handsome boys or pretty girls, singing to beautiful music with a guitar in one hand and a friend in the other, skipping rocks by the banks and dancing the night away.

We may have a lot of networks and virtual friend on Facebook and Myspace, but really, how many among our hundreds of friends are truly for real? 

Smile

I love that feeling bubbling in me when I make someone smile! Especially when they come up to you and say"Thank you for brightening up my day"!

C:

So there was this one day in Uni, I was feeling super cheeky. I spotted a classmate of mine who was deep in her own thoughts. I placed my index finger near her cheek and called her name. She turned around, and her cheek was poked by my finger.

She was shocked at first, while I was grinning at her. Slowly, her look of surprise turned into a smile, then we were both giggling till tears came out.

It was, as I said, just a moment of cheekiness on my part.

Two weeks later, she came up to me in Uni, and told me that she was actually depressed over something for quite some time. But that small mischief on my part gave her a reason to smile again. And then she hugged me.

I wanted to tell her that I was the one who should be feeling grateful, because I never knew I could play such a role for someone. But I was near tears myself, so I just held her close.

So. Yea. Story of my life.

Today, give a stranger one of your smiles. It might be the only sunshine he sees all day. ~Quoted in P.S. I Love You, compiled by H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Choices

Life; it's all about making choices. I often wonder how things would've turned out had I taken the other road. But really, what's the point in looking backwards and fill yourself with tiny uncalled for regrets?

"We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we're curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths"

- Walt Disney

The Half Empty Cup

The Half Empty Cup

This is the story of a girl. No, she did not cry a river and drowned the whole world. It is not that kind of story.

She was not the most beautiful girl in town or a princess of some faraway land. She cannot sing the birds off the tree, or dance more gracefully than a swan. Neither had she skin as white as snow nor long locks of blonde silky to the touch.

That makes her pretty uninteresting, no? So why are we talking about her?

Well, that's because it's my story. The story of how a girl's half empty cup became filled.

lol it's so cliche but if i'm ever gonna write a book I hope it'll begin like this C:

Scribbles #13

If I am to become a fictional character one day, I would definitely choose Alice from "Alice in Wonderland".

I admire her courage, for being brave enough to venture around Wonderland alone;

never be terrified at the sights of curiously inexplicably scenes.

I also admire her creativity, for being bold enough to imagine such a fantastic world,

where the impossibilities become possible.

But I think I admire her luck the most; when her world seems like crumbling down on her,

she could just sweep off the leaves off her skirt and wake up from a bad dream.

One day, if I were Alice, I would have so much to say to people.

"My name is Alice", I would tell them, "now watch me fall".

Scribbles #12

the reason i don't read "eat pray love", i thought all along, is because i despise elizabeth's selfishness of wanting her own happiness to the extent of putting everyone else's happiness behind hers.

she could throw everything she has, put the responsibilities away, run away from life just to find her inner self and love. all along i thought it was a cowardice act.

but then i realised, maybe the reason i really dislike it, is because i am jealous of her audacity she has.

her bravery to give up everything she has and search for what she does not.

her courage to search for her own happiness,

when i don't even dare to speak up.

i mean, it's not that i don't deserve happiness, it's just that i don't deserve you.

Same Old Shit, Different Days

Why hullo there :)

To the loyal readers of the blog, I'm neither an intellectual blogger nor do I lead a life interesting enough to blog about like "the veterans" here. Sporadic defines me pretty well, so naturally there are no consistencies in my writings XD

But most of all, it was an honour to have been invited. I was an avid reader of this blog, and a fan.

So yeaaaaaa... Long story short, here's my debut in Peel.Read.Digest. and I hope I'll live up to the expectations from my fellow bloggers :D

Quote of the Day

"I've developed into quite a swan. I'm one of those people that will probably look better and better as I get older - until I drop dead of beauty."

- Rufus Wainwright

A thing written.

Paris, London, Venice or Milan,

I wanted to shop for a thousand mile,

Empty pockets and empty hands,

All I do is just stand and stare,

But I can't afford any of these wares,

These white people judge and glare,

For I have nothing to spare or spend,

The streets are so familiarly rare,

As if my presence can be traced everywhere,

Here in the cities I felt so freed,

I set my heart and soul in this district.

And then came summer to winter spree,

I felt the urge to leave this dream,

Back in home is all I ever wished,

To feel the warmth that I once need,

In the arms of love, I feel the beat,

No matter how time changes from now,

I will still give you my eternal vow,

Stay with me till the end of the world,

I really long for you to see me flourish.
:(

Big Girls Don't Cry

big bananas girls don't cry.
I'm an absolute MORON. amanda, u hear that? YOU'RE A MORON.

the last time i cried was for edward and i swore from that moment i will never let a tear fall for a man.
the idea of seeing a guy u fucked cheat with some fat chick is absolute intolerant.

the idea of knowing my heart wrentched makes me feel disgusted.

i need to constantly remind myself men like this is not worth a feeling for.
u know what, fuck them and proceed to fuck the rest or at least cheat the fuck out of them.

anyway, i think its time for me to leave this slut.

xoxo, amanda.

The New Banana

Hi, apparently to be eligible to be writer in peel, read and digest, i have to be a banana. oh well, whatever, i can rock any look, including.... banana. yess readers, i'm giselle bunchden rocking my banana outfit. i'm a banana with splendid curve heidi klum back off.

its been almost 5 months as i can recall i last visited this bloog. and as i was browsing through the comments, "this blog is getting dusty" i have to agree partially for a reason.

i read back previous post by my friends and realised we all have different perspectives and stories to tell. in fact and ironically, we're all setting our feet at different parts of the world in the environment we're no longer attached.

for that, i see a great opportunityl in this blog, instead of a dusting, i believe with growing amount of effort and time, this would be a hub for people to peel our stories. =)

Readers, i have great news for my parents. i am completely allergic towards weed and have low alcohol tolerance- great.

2 nights ago i went to my friend's apartment where my fling and his best friend smoked weed. just as the smoke from the burning cigarette released a smell i personally thought like a burned out chicken it entered my nostrils and i had migraine minutes later ..... after kissing my fling. that was pretty sexy except i had migraine.

its pretty late, i'm pretty speechless for now after calculus homework. but hey! i'll be back for more updates from now.

stay peeling!

.

xoxo, giselle.

p/s: period makes me fucking horny! x.x