Sunday, November 30, 2008
Excruciating pangs of missing you
I have to find a way to stop this insanity. Quick, before I fall deeper and lose myself double. As it is I've already lost myself somewhere else. Come back Sarah, come back.
Oh God.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
I don't wanna grow up and I don't wanna grow old. I want to be a teenager again. I shall embrace the last 30 hours of my adolescence. So I'm gonna do stupid, crazy things and act like a kid what's left of tonight and tomorrow, just because I have the right to, because at this moment, I'm still a teenager.
I shall start my adolescent behaviour now. I'm gonna mess up my wardrobe and throw my clothes all over my room and then jump on my bed til' I get tired and fall asleep amidst the mess. Yay.
It`s called obsession, can you handle it?
Brilliant singer of the '70s who composed famous evergreens such as "Alone Again, Naturally" and "Clair". Both songs are currently on repeat. =)
My hereditary obsession with cleanliness and tidiness (my maternal family is a neat freak), especially of toilets.
You should see my face scrunge up with disgust after each visit to a public toilet. I never ever sit on the seat of a public loo, I always half-squat (hey, girls can aim too).
I pack my room neatly every night without fail. My room is more organised than the neighbourhood library.
I bathe just before I go to bed so that I feel all fresh and cleeean on my bed. Dirtying the bed (i.e. lying down in dirt and sweat) is a big nono.
My most sinful obsession: ICE CREAM.
Favourite flavours: orange, chocolate, lychee martini and APPLE PIE.
I eat ice cream almost everyday. Yes, that explains the expanding waistline and shrinking clothes. But those are besides the point.
I am obsessed with my obsessions.
Cut the crap
Don`t mistake me for a cheap slut. Being decked out in a bunny suit for HALLOWEEN has got absolutely nothing to do with being a wannabe-PLAYBOY-BUNNY. Oh, if I could only have that kind of body worthy of the "coveted" title. Why, thank you very much, I am so flattered by your risque comments.
Do not label me as a spoilt rich brat. My branded goods have got nothing to do with you. My parents work hard for their money. Besides, streetwise people (unlike yourselves) will readily acknowledge the fact that beneath the glitz and glamour of every wild child lies an undesirable share of problems. So grow up, stop judging people by the number of branded items they own. And if you cannot contain your jealousy for the more fortunate kids who are better off than you, count your blesings and thank God that you stil have rice to eat everyday despite your constant murmuring (which I am sure is ringing at His merciful ears). And just for the record, I eat at hawker centres most of the time, am jaded of restaurant fare and shop for my clothes at Bugis Street. Blame it on my ability to make something dirt cheap look darn expensivvve.
I don`t dabble with any sort of politics that arise anywhere (office or social circles, whatsoever) and I detest superficial, 2-faced, insincere people who smile in your face and stab you in the back. If you don`t adore me I can understand, just tell me straight. I like transparency.
=)
Enough of rantings already, I`m not one to bear grudges or stay angry for long, unless you`re talking about this particular anal female creature... Right, there we go again. `Nuff said.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Nothing amounts to everything
So tonight, despite my painful and tortutous throat infection and searing pain from incessant menstraul cramps, despite the fact that I'm sad knowing that my mum will not be there at my 21st birthday party, despite the fact that my life is nowhere near perfect, I want to thank God for everything that I have in this life.
What with my birthday drawing near, many people - both family and friends - have bee asking me the same question, "What would you like for your birthday?" Being a thick-skinned materialist, I would usually jump right at the opportunity and ask for a wallet/pocket-damaging gift.
However, this year, i find myself dumbfounded when asked that generous question. Knowing myself, I have been pondering for weeks about what I want or need to get for my birthday this year. My party is this Saturday - still no answer. I would like to think that I have reached a state of Nirvana - pure contentment - but I would suppose not, as i find myself still dreaming about that lamb-skin 2.55 Chanel handbag siting in the shop waiting to be mine.
The Chanel bag aside, I am so very grateful for my family and devoted friends by my side. Yes, it is true that things are not always smooth-sailing for me. I still have my fair share of problems and I still do question God at times in vexation. But having come this far in life, albeit 21 short years, I have learnt that the best things in life are indeed for free. So if you ask me, what I would really like for my 21st is just... to be happy.
Thank you God for Mummy, for everyone, for everything.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
My Original Sin
Oh, it's carnival night
And they're stringing the lights around you
Hanging paper angels
Painting little devils on the roof
Oh the furnace wind
Is a flickering of wings about your face
In a cloud of incense
Yeah, it smells like Heaven in this place
I can't eat, can't sleep
Still I hunger for you when you look at me
That face, those eyes
All the sinful pleasures deep inside
Tell me how, do you know now, the ways and means of getting in Underneath my skin
Oh you were always my original sin
Tell me why, I shudder inside, every time we begin
This dangerous game
Oh you were always my original sin
A dream will fly
The moment that you open up your eyes
A dream is just a riddle
Ghosts from every corner of your life
Up in the balcony
All the Romeos are bleeding for your hand
Blowing theater kisses
Reciting lines that they don't understand
I can't eat, can't sleep
Still I hunger for you when you look at me
That face, those eyes
All the sinful pleasures deep inside
Tell me how, do you know now, the ways and means of getting in Underneath my skin
Oh you were always my original sin
Tell me why, I shudder inside, every time we begin
This dangerous game
Oh you were always my original sin
-Sir Elton John
It's an awfully sleepless night. Swollen eyes, warm tears stinging my cheeks. Each teardrop represents a tear in my heart. My heart is wrenching so unbearably that I can hardly breathe. I think I might die of a heartache.
I look back in hopeless longing, reminiscing on the past; OUR past. Fond memories of the days when all you were ever capable of was making me smile. The times when I competely lost myself under your captivating gaze, when I could see a silver lining on every cloud and a ray of sunshine beaming through every storm.
I question myself painfully about how we ever ended up here. I'd always believed that there was a light at the end of every tunnel. Now that light just seems so obscure. I reproach myself, for I believe that there is no one else to blame. It's no use saying, "If only this... if only that...", or "I could have... I should have... I would have...". "If only" is just an illusion; a lame excuse with which I fail to comfort myself.
Nothing in this world can take us back to where we used to be. It's all over now, and it's gone... but not forever I hope. Despite my gradually dissipating feelings, I am adamantly clinging on to that very last bit of hope. There is something about you from which I just can't seem to break free. That small, fighting flame flickering on the inside. And I am desperate to rekindle it. We used to be able to fan that flame back to life, but I don't remember how anymore.
So I'm holding out that our empty promises will fill up and overflow, I'm holding out that overwhelming passion will sweep us off our feet once again, and I'm holding out that it will be you, and only you, for the rest of my life.