and then a soft rustling of the leaves catches my attention while I'm on msn discovering that both patrick and I listen to andrea bocelli. well well. and I thought I was the only one in Singapore who did. okay the fact that I listen because it's italian so the lyrics won't distract me while I'm studying doesn't count. It still remains that I listen to andrea bocelli. hurhur. well the leaves rustle and something patters so I look up- to my pleasant suprise the rays of the sun are shining golden, in the way that only the setting sun can achieve and the lucid green leaves of the young tree nearest to my window stands out beautifully against the dark matured brown of the older tree trunks a little way behind. Yes it's raining and the drops are golden too, golden and transparent watery that only water in the settingsunlight can be. I look a little more to my left and the furthest tree is standing almost by itself; it's brown is alone anyway [unlike the first two I mentioned; those are visually intertwined, -not literally] but the leaves companianably moosh with the others well these leaves are green and golden green and brown and at the same time raindrops are dripping from the tips here and there and the wonderful smell of rain gives me a cosy love so that I have to log on blogspot and capture this moment, even if I have political science tomorrow and jeremy just messaged to demand that I study.
[on reading this over, I'm not too sure that I have though. sigh. sorry. I did try. and now thunder has sounded for the second time; I think it's a sign. Back to political culture. :(]

they were closing their window grills and blinds because of the mosquito fogging.

It's a sleepy afternoon, and I'm contemplating whether or not to take a siesta even though there's political science tomorrow subconciously your brain is registering the smell a smell an artificial hazey smell that makes my animal instincts raise its hackles but since I am more human than animal [so I would believe] I don't realize what my brain is smelling. clank clang clak clak intermittent sharp wooden sounds and suddenly I realise that they aren't random noises of big beatles being popped open they're the sound of plastic on glass. None of my thoughts make sense, really. Only reality does this time. and now I am more aware this sound is actually familar it comes when the rain does oh it's the sound of glass panes and the almost timeless [not in the common sense] whack of plastic on aluminum bah what is wrong with my head today. where are all the words. sound and smell come together and then I know, it's the fogging man come to fog eusoff. In creating clouds will they cleanse. Of course no one remembers the chemicals they leave behind, dump on the ground down down down into the tree roots that suck suck suck up into the xylems and pholems only, I've forgotten which is which and does what. Perhaps though, these are enviomentally-friendly clouds that our government has benevolently bestowed upon hall residents. do you think. well well I thump my knees on my bed and knee walk to the window thump thump blankets shifting bedsheets rearranging themselves but hey it's okay, they love me and I love them too. God knows they are part of my very important sleep. where was I hmmmmm yes I am at the window and out of my trees I see the short wing closing their windows add sight to sound. through the holes in the leaves I see blinds coming down more sound more sound zap zap although in reality it's a zaaaaaaaP for as long as the blinds are. zaaaaaaaP and I can see actions perfectly in sync with the sound it's pretty cool really. First you had the sound then you see the action so you realise yes. It's like math. One plus one make two. A sound and an action make a good movie experience. Not only do I hear the smacking of plastic on aluminum I see the window panes closing too. Cause and effect. Except this time the window panes are slower than the sound nevertheless it's an enjoyable experience, seeing the leaves blow green in the wind and sunlight's children appearing about [they don't run they don't dance] now and then through the holes in the leaves they show themselves only through holes in the leaves now and you hear zaaaaaP and smack smack and you see zaaaaaaP and smack smack. Have you ever realised that?

Arrrgh the photos didn't remove themselves.


[and the funny thing is, after This post they did. I am thoroughly delighted. I just had to go back to the dashboard and add this postscript.]

do I have to have a title for everything

I tried changing my blogskin; I've tried it at least once before. Doesn't work. I'd like something a little less idyllic than this, the clouds and things are fine. I need the whole image to fit, don't you know. Felt like removing all the photos; photos make a blog personal and this is not meant to be a personal blog because of photos. I don't need photos to stamp my mark over, hardly. Photos add a face to this place and I'd. rather not. No visual, no visual. Words are all that's needed. But then I can't remove the photos because I firmly believe that my posts are worth something, even if I regret putting them up afterward. Which is why there're so few personal personal posts. Ignore the ones this month please, they were friggin' emotional and yes yes I fell. I have my human side you know you know. So as it is I can only ramble and hope the photos disappear right down to the ubiquitous next page, previous page, the page that isn't material, the nonexistent page if. you don't click on the little link at the side and please don't. I like my perception of my blog to be the one everyone has. No wait. I like everyone's perception of my blog to be the same as I have. Bossy, yes I know. Comes with being the older one. Cue for my snooty face.
The main light's off, but the study light's on so my room's darkened because I've got a lovely little girl napping on my dark redden bed. Not with blood, mind you, neither decomposing nor fresh. It's just the tribal lines, that's all. She's gently patting the bed with the feet now, that's all of her I can see with my peripheral vision anyway. oh wait. Can she sleep with music? I forget. She can't study with music, that I know. and then I remember that once she fell asleep on my red rug and even jaded of aerosmith wouldn't budge her. I had to leave my keys with mai ahn before meeting the prof. Don't you start getting ideas that my room is a giant chinese lantern, now. I had to match the cream walls and wood coloured funiture. Red goes well enough. But then again I'm bored of describing my room; the [outdated] video's on one of the previous posts that jeremy so kindly [ahem] did for me. key descriptions notwithstanding. rachel is mad huh. well done, well done. I've got a reputation on youtube for all the world to see. Still, let me first declare that my room is Very Much Nicer now. very very much nicer. I do take pride in these things, y'know. Little touches here and there; not concious to the visitor but that's the whole point. You don't want people to start analysing what makes your room so homey; you want them to exclaim oh how gorgeous! and that's enough satisfaction. I don't want my style copied, no siree. And yes, I am proud to say that I have received compliments for my room. So don't call me a bimbo when I insist that egbert nalgene the second has to complement me. So yes, trust me when I say I have a cosy room. Even if it's sloppy now from all the exam work. sigh. unironed clothes piled high on my single seat sofa, bed undone. purple bedroom slipper unceremoniously flipped the other way round, lying undignified on my ikea rug that joel bought. credit where credit's due, confessions when needed. Even when uneeded. I could have said that I've got a beaut room and have left it at that, and I think that's what jerome would think I should have done. shrug. So sue me. I'm sorry I can't do the carefree thing, that I introspect too much. You wanted to be drunk and happy all the time remember. in answer to kp's question. This thinking's part of me; I can't help it I can't hide it anymore than draco can hide a part of his self. Whoever draco might be. I suspect it's draco malfoy from harry potter, but I hope not because I'm not overfond of that. Then again maybe you do have it, you are like [dare I say me?] but you'd tear it apart from you if you could because it's your burden and bane. Will you not embrace it?

I could go on, but I should not. There are such things called exams, there are. Besides, I've been writing a whole lot lately. Lack of simulation, really. Have I said this before. I go blog- reading and that's not much updated [and all sorts of other priggish reasons I do not care to state. One needs to be tactful, after all.] and I don't much like visiting new places; too voyueristic it feels. Too much, too much. There's only so much my little brain can take. New readings are unsettling, and not always up to expectation. I think I would like to write a book one day. Well hopefully all this nonese will cover and pushpushpush down the photos. nonese. ha. what I type, indeed. I've been in another world while writing, and I'm only coming out now. Where people talk commonly. And then a call from daddy comes so I am forced rather abruptly back where I was. Not that I mind, daddy's a dear. He's telling me of the benefits of vit.C, as much as I can gather that little pillet does something to neurons so that they "are freer". I don't mind, maybe if I ate them I wouldn't say things like smow floothly anymore. More importantly, I wouldn't be caught saying them.

Alright alright, enough.







[pushing down the space, maybe more photos will be gone that way. photos that reek of normalacy.]

and then memories fade, they do. The lights that once blinded and dazzled aswemove`solongago are now a memory of a memory, and then the voice that delighted now no longer resounds. I can't even remember why, or how.it was, or just is. Accordingly, I'm as ambivalent. It costs rather too much to think, sometimes. Just pluck the string off the shirt that's tickling your tummy and don't.even think whether this sentence fits in. It doesn't. Tickling's a happy word. did you know that.
To recapitulate [as julia in daddy long legs would say of her professor], it's an ambivalent night. When your mind is stoned and your attitude would rival jay chou's. You jut one leg out onto the coffee table and loll back as far as your back on your backless chair will allow you to, looking sufficiently angsty yet in control at the same time. All perfectly natural.
On nights like these you don't care what to make of your writing; you don't care to form or shape it. The dozen setences that once paraded around your head don't. [don't what?, neil chomksy of -colourless green idea sleep furiously- would ask. but he's an anarchistic linguist, so we shall leave him out. it's more medalena than him, even if I know chomsky better through nerney, and again from political science.] Even punctuation used to make a difference; tonight I propose to talk too much, and too little. The previous sentence is [is? was?] missing a noun, and by extension, a pronoun. did you know that.

I dab idly at the stiff keyboard with two peices of caltex tissue paper, lazily lean over and fluff the screen. I'm predisposed to be perfectly boring tonight.

contact

Found my ex-5a students' blogs today.. haha. They're all happy mappy because the Os are over. [and what am I? still doing the whole exam thing =/] I said hi at a few of them.. 'twas fun. I do miss that class.

ohwellllllllll back to the books.

discernment

This might sound a little kooky, but I've honestly only just realised -with the epiphnic kind of understanding that arises when I see that |_0ki|^|^|@n is "lokiman", and not "l.oki ton" as I've been thinking for the past five years- that certain posts in my blog need to be read s`low`ly. I've always known it intuitively in my capacity of the writer of my posts, but the reader in me came to a concious understanding today.

And yes, I am a stereotypical arts student. [hardly] unfortunate, but true.

not a single you

Of flyaway emotions, of abstract concepts and. pachelbel's canon in D major on repeat. have I mentioned how much I love music.

of confusion, and of murk.- no, I never did mention that I love music.

of a vague sadness, of a wondering about change.

the desire to think in solitude.

please don't. I have realised I need stability in my life. status quo. something stable to hold on to, knowing that won't turn topdownbottomup.



it's okay to have one liners when it's needed. all that's required is an analysis why they're there.


please don't ask more of me than I can give. this, is for Everyone.

think



think




think




and then I remember that I am going to chiang mai after all, in a glorious adventure that's a secret for me to hug. an almost totally mine secret. [well I'd tell if asked. :)]



of questions, of quaint assurances.

why. why do I desire to be alone so much. When I have so many people who love me. What is wrong with me. don't I know how to appreciate what I have.
oh, but I do. I do.
What is wrong with me. Why can I burst into laughter so easily, and yet push people away. How can such contradictions exist within one person. whydoidesiretobealonesomuchwhenihavesomanypeoplewholoveme why do I crave solitude. when I laugh.

and so I write on, hoping that I'll reach the breaking point soon, where my finger touches exactly at what's getting at me and it goes away. Like a a cramp that builds up and screams me awake, and my sleep-drugged fingers probe till the muscle is found. and. then. it climaxes and the almost body shuddering relief floods the body so that you think maybe cramps are pretty worth it after all after all after all.

perhaps I have.

and it strikes me that I used to call it muse. My muse.

an ongoing list..

When I am married and keep the house.. I will have it nice and simple. Japanese style is what I'm thinking now. It's clean, and cosy at the same time. All the wood. (:

So, this is what I must have.:
1. A massage chair of the best quality
2. A toffel steamer for my veggies and tofu

will add more when I can think of them. :) such a happy list.

exams ):

lalala.

I'm blogging because I have like, 10 mins to waste. [time to Waste? hoho]
ayyy hall life is dragging me downnn. (I think I can hear mabel snickering somewhere)

Where's the balance between a good uni experience and being a responsible student huhhh.
I came to eusoff because I wanted to know what it was like, and I know I don't regret it but my studies suckkk. Hall life is indescribable; you'd need to live it. I mean, I could relate the details but you'd need to be doinggg it too. Like, just screaming down the corridor what time to go for dinner is not the same unless yr part of the screams, feeling it.
so.

ay so I might not stay in hall in year2; that may not be too bad either. At least I might actually gettt down to studying. =Pp


seems funny to be in uni at all. [k and when I make such statements I know I'm going to start thinking toooo much so we'll stop there. before I go onto melancholic rubbish.]

hall life is marvellous. things like doing the laundry, ironing and [most importantly] making my room mine. are such pleasurable things I remind myself everyday not to take these for granted. How many people get to do this? I've found out that I love doing the laundry. The smell of clothes fresh from the dryer.. (: ironing's pretty cool too. It's just the floor that I have some problems with.. never mind I'm sure the husband wldn't mind doing it :D decorating the room, remember colour complements.. such satisfaction. :)
A whole community of people just about the same age.. no adults. When will You get to open your door in the morning, and opposite you is tingyi, who's already up, and studying. Or stroll to the bathroom, and on your way back just casually barge into becky and xintian's room, because they're. There? that it's Them who are there, and not other people. And more crucially, that That's where You are.

Told you it's hard to explain.

oh my title was exams. right.
ayyyiah. going to fail laaa. [I think this is the first time I'm using singlish. haha.]


I can't wait to grow up...
grow up the way I am. :)



[and I just lost to becky at minesweeper. crap.]

hall life in one shot

I decided to show a glimpse of what life is like.. It's hard to explain to a non-hall person... it's an experience you see.

First though..

I gave blood!
1. I'm in self-pity mode here
2. Then I start to think
3. I have a thing for piercings
4. GIVE BLOOD :D
















Look! A funny bug decides to visit me. I reciprocate the honour by immortalising it on my blog. It looks like a little leaf walking upright..







I cooked this! :D not bad right. daniel [rf's son] is my module mate so I went over to his place the other day. soba, mushrooms, miso soup and veggie. awwesome.

and a little update on my room. (:



1.one of the sistas tied it outside my door after I slept.. I swear I nearly died of a heart attack when I woke up the next morning and opened the door there were these THINGS flying into my face and I had No Idea what they were.

2. The b4 guys... hahahha.

3. The b2 girls. mooncake festival celebrations. we roooock.

4. becky's birthday with b-blockers. my dear dear friend, wonderful sista and ermm occasionally-morphs-into-pet. [beck I told you I'd blog about you]
 

more stuff

okay this was the first gown.. since it's white it's like I'm a mini bride!











this is the second gown.. it got rejected though. =Pp


Eusoff in bloom!

















it's it gorrrgeous.. ((: 

just a quick note. i'm back to normal. will blog more when i have the time.

cheers

why do i hurt so much inside

When the day is long and the night, the night is yours alone,
When you're sure you've had enough of this life, well hang on
Don't let yourself go, 'cause everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong.
Now it's time to sing along
When your day is night alone, (hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go, (hold on)
When you think you've had too much of this life, well hang on
'Cause everybody hurts.
Take comfort in your friends
Everybody hurts.
Don't throw your hand.
Oh, no.
Don't throw your hand
If you feel like you're alone, no, no, no, you are not alone

If you're on your own in this life, the days and nights are long,
When you think you've had too much of this life to hang on

Well, everybody hurts sometimes,
Everybody cries. And everybody hurts sometimes
And everybody hurts sometimes.
So, hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on
Everybody hurts.
You are not alone

anguish

Because I promise I wouldn't blog when I'm so emotionally unstable, I won't.

This one doesn't count. I'm going to scream somewhere else.

I'm talking to myself. Not to any of you. So don't comment.

i plead temporary insanity

Let's just forget that previous post. Breakdowns in blogs are personally embarrassing. and I'm never all that rational at night.

but. thanks to all who cared.. weiling, jeremy, wilson, an ren, serene, hannah, xuan, shyama, chris, rebecca, kayan, ian, vernon, joel even my brother, and mr/miss anonymous. and I know there're more people than my sleep-murky brain remembers. Considering that during those 24 hours I slept and napped and stuff, the average rate of people who came forth was like, more than 1/hr? I know I shldn't be playing with numbers, but I'm really touched. that. people care about me.

I ought to explain. Home, or the Christian Home of Love [full name], is a Home in Chiang Mai for street children. That place means a lot to me [as you can doubtless tell]. If you really require more details, look at my archives dec2005 posts after christmas. It's urmm very emotional though.
I had planned to spend time there from the 12th to the 29th of december. However, because of certain clashes [how easy it sounds when written like this. Certain Clashes.] it seemed that the earliest I could go would be december 2007. and that, is a horrible thought.
At present, I'm trying to make time from the 6th to the 15th. These are the bald facts. I shall strive to stay uneomotional. and even if anything happens, you won't know because I won't tell.

in God i trust.

Love,
Rachel

leave me alone

for awhile, at least.

24 hours since

I can't take it anymore I can't I can't. please dear God let me go back Home please please. Please I Need to go back I can't function I couldn't function today I wore black because there was no other colour to wear. She asked me on msn if I was okay oh if a mere aquaintance notices it

please let me go back Home please. oh please. Father please let me go back. I've been taking it for granted that I'd go back
please let me go back.
please.
please.

When I'm left alone there's a pressing weight and that's all I'm aware of. When I'm with people who know what's going on I'm myself- depressed and quiet. because talking requires more energy than I can take to give. When I'm with people who have no idea what's going on it depends.

I'm alone now. I feel like a fool typing all this out it's like a repeat of december last year but what else can I do than to try and let it out? It's better than staring blankly at the screen isn't it. It's better than
looking again and again at tiger airways because I can't go.

I might be able to, just might, but


I can't take it I need to know that I
can go

wols

And is it possible? That suddenly I miss the wols group so much.

I guess all groups form an identity over time... a lump of tea became the umpies, and a random conversation over dinner at glen's place during chinese new year led to the naming of wols... for which reason I cannot for the life of me remember.

Just a photo that's part of the college that now sit as my desktop background hits me. It's one of the many we took at yicong's house.. I think.we went over there because his parents were celebrating their wedding anniversary. Yes, very hneh I know. But we were there anyway.
Remember the pillow fight we had? And how the guys tried to drag sarah and I to the weighting scale? We all fought like crazy... much to the bemusement of gwen who later tragically remarked that she had voluntarily gone to the machine.

A perfectly arched eyebrow.

It's a photo where the girls are sitted on the sofa and the boys are arranged on the floor. Everyone's squashing each other, trying to cover the other's face... and everyone looks so happy. So together.
Where have these days gone?

Sarah's left for leeds, gwen's busy whenever I ask her out and michelle & joyce left a long time ago anyway. sean's got his As; ther rest of the guys still go out regularly i know.
But it isn't the same without all of us.

What happened to the days of yicong & sarah, gwen & glen, cedric & I, and [the occasional] sean & michelle?

hah. A part of me can't believ I'm even talking about our bunch this way. I used to get so snooty whenever we went out.. the guys were so noisy, and their jokes so loud and brash and dumb that we got kicked out of almost everywhere we went to.
But now, looking at that photo, all I remember are our bridge sessions, world cup outings, birthday suprise plannings, that taboo game, and general talking about- what? I don't remember, don't recall. But it sure was fun, that I know.

Will we ever go back? Like I said, it isn't the same without the 6, 7 of us. Teasing and laughing at each other. Hanging out in town.

I don't hang out in town anymore.

Now. As I sit back and think. am I still the same from who I am before nus started? I think I have forgotten myself; done the whole leave-my-Self-thinking-it's-fine-but-she-changes-anyway.
Who am I from the wols day, and who am I now?
I've been opening up so much, so much from what I used to be.
Why didn't I keep it in?
Being friendly and nice is tiring.

But I've done so much, it's impossible to suddenly withdraw.

Even this blog. As hard as I've tried to keep it away from nus, from eusoff, to maintain it as part of my life from Back Then...
` Why do I feel so resigned all of a sudden?
` I need time out.


Just a month or so more... then I'll leave for chiangmai.
` Back Home.
` I can't wait.


I'm sorry if this is an arbupt, inconclusive ending.. I don't know myself. I'd tell you if
I did.