Out Of tOwn

Parents are out of town this week. Yay! No nags and yardars yardars. The home feels exceptionally quiet and messy...Clothes strewn around, dishes unwashed, meals unconsumed or unpurchased, snacks overbought. Just a week, bear with the mess... And how to operate the washing machine again? opps...i deserve to stink...don't I??

Sleepy

The lights flickering....the pillow felt cold with touch and the music seemed so foreign even though I haf listened to it a hundred times over.... The nite is silent lest for the occasional car that appear and disappear in a flash. Air is cold...still fresh.....

SEP

Yup, the decision has been made and SEP it is. Will be flying off at the end of Jan 08 and returning at the end of June 08. For the first in my life, I will be going to Europe!!! Yay....Gonna watch Wimbledon! It starts at the end of June...just nice...last spot to visit be4 flying back home. Yay...


Bon Voyuer ? hahahhahaha Bon Voyage!

Work of Art

The shop that sold memories.

It’s a strange sight. One that I’m getting more used to though. Your face is marred with emotion, your eyes slightly wild and unrecognisable. I know those eyes, I tell myself, I once used to look in them, and notice the dark brown flecks dancing with some hidden joke that you never shared. I can’t see them now. You’re standing on the stairs a few steps up and the angle’s wrong, all I can see is the set of your chin. Your left earring is missing. I’d been meaning to buy you one more to replace it but I just hadn’t got around to it. The other one swings from your ear with the force of your voice, pale against the flush of your neck.

This must be quite a tableau – me, at the foot of the stairs, my bag forgotten and limp against the bottom step, the laces of my shoes undone but the shoes still on, you, one hand clenched tight on the stair-rail and the other pointing, stabbing, accusing. You’re yelling something but I can’t hear it, the sound of the rain pounding against the window is too loud. Actually, no, it isn’t too loud, I’m just not listening I think. We’ve been here before, this has happened before, and I’m guessing it will again.

My eyes flicker to the wall. There’s a slight crack where you once tried to hang the painting that we’d bought from the second-hand store down the road. You loved that shop, it was old and held the memories of a hundred different strangers, you said. I remember thinking then that was quite a smart thing to say.

You’ve given up I see, and you turn and tear your way upstairs. I try to call your name, but my throat’s dry from not talking. I swallow once and try again, but then a sudden crazy realisation skims quickly through my head – I’ve forgotten your name. It comes to me almost immediately of course, but the frisson through my spine doesn’t leave quite as quickly. Kicking off my shoes, I walk up after you. My bag’s on the floor, ignored or forgotten, I don’t quite care. The railing’s still warm from where you were gripping it, and I linger there for a second, feeling the once-familiar warmth of your hand, before I continue on. There’s a crash from upstairs as the door slams. I pause, sigh, turn and walk back out.

The papers arrive in the mailbox of my rented apartment the week after.

The plain brown envelope is slightly stained with water. Tears, I tell myself, but the rain belies my little fantasy. You don’t cry for me anymore.

Somewhere, in a shop at the corner of a quiet street, in a little cardboard box labelled “Collectibles” is a photograph of two people, laughing. It’s cold there, and they’re holding each other tightly. The trees behind them are turning golden and brown and there’s a bird perched on one of their branches, beak open and its song forever frozen in time. A hand lifts through the photographs slowly, pausing here, and then moves on.

Beautiful abstract, which I plagiarized from someone's blog. A big fan of his style and writing. So free-flowing, vivid and emotional. A work of art indeed.

Backdate

Haven't updating much due to the extreemeeely heavy workload. Fortuately, I made it a point to go out to get a breather....and celebrated my dad's over sixty sth bday. Yesh....he's tt oollllddd....i m no spring chicken myself too....the other day when i was climbing up a flight of stairs, i can feel myself panting after tt...oh gosh...how unfit

Yesh....what happened yesterday morning was hilarious and embarrassing.....I was disturbing my fwen abt a cute guy she loves to ogle at during lecture. She played along and we were so engrossed in our conversation that a guy sitting in front of us overheard us. Fortunately, our conversation was nothing randy or lewd

To all Muslims, hope you peeps haf a wonder Hari Raya

Relief before stress

What seemed like eternity has finally ended. That is the mid-term tests and 2 projects... Project was bad...had to sleep at 4am+++ to get it done. Sch's giving students premature eyebags n crowfeet.

After conquering these few hills, there is yet another mountain to scale. Hysys! In moutaineering context, my group is still at the base camp, equipment's ready but we are still resting in our nice and comfortable tents. Well.....avalanche is going to bury us deep and hard on the 23rd this month...

Rough Paper

Interestingly, amidst the craze and tensed period of tests and examinations, there are little things ard us that make us smile albeit in a silly way. I dun think the lecturers meant for bringing our attention to the plain sheets of paper as insulting our intelligent, rather to pre-empt questions like if we had to do our workings on these plain paper n so on. Nonetheless "This is rough paper" is like warning labels which state obvious observations but required, to prevent potential liability suits.

3 mid-term tests are finally over.....outcome is forseeably dismal if not atrocious. 2 more DEADlines for projects due next week. haiz... leading a donkey's life.

Children's Day

HaPpY ChILDrEn's DaE !!!

YAY! It's the happiest day of my life....rather it used to be....no longer a child now. Nway, to all the children out there, Happy Children's Day!!!...Also, if you are reading this....you are too young to be surfing the net; at least reading blogs!