Feeling: Saddened

It hurts when you don't tell me things. Things I should know. Or rather, need to know. But maybe these are things I'm supposed to know already, but I'm just too ignorant to notice. In that case, I'm the one to blame. It still hurts nonetheless when I find out what's really going on. But it's the truth, I think I'll always be unprepared for the truth. So next time you decide to try to tell me but not very directly how hard everything is, before you do, say "Sue, I'm going to tell you the truth. Do you think you're ready?" And that way, I won't be so unprepared. :(

Thank you, anyway. For not telling me, but telling me. Well, not me, I don't know who you were telling, but you were telling someone.

But then again, maybe you don't tell me because you don't feel you're ready. And, maybe that's not so wrong because I think I do that not telling you thing as well. Just look what I'm doing now. :)

Feeling: Panicked
Listening to: Breathe Your Name by Sixpence None The Richer

Okay. Scratch what I said about skins. I did more research, because that's just what I do. And it seems I was right about the skins, but only those kinds of skins, as after searning for 'skinheads' on google and finding out that there are different kinds of skins, some are racist(they're called white powder) and patriotic, some aren't, some are just listeners of the music, and etc. :) So, I like those kinds of skins. The ones I talked about. The ACAB ones. Yeah. There's a whole interesting story to how the skins came to be, leading back to the 1960's, having to do with the working class, which gets us to the way they dress. Hahaha.

Oh, and did you know they are colour-coded? Well, their jackets are. See:
White - Traditional/Non Racist Skinhead, but also White Power
Red - Communist/Traditional/Non Racist Skinhead, but sometimes also used by neo-nazi skinheads who associate "Blut und Ehre" ("Blood & Honour")/"Blut und Boden" (slogans used in the Third Reich) to the colour of their laces
Yellow/black/blue - Asian/Non Racist Skinhead/Traditional/Straight Edge Skinhead (No drugs and sometimes no sex)
Black - Traditional, or simply wearing what came with the boots
Black and White - Racial unity, ska fan or "Two Tone."

Interesting, yeh. So there's a whole lot of stuff like that. Do your own research. That's that. Coffee and milo didn't make me hyper today, probably because I have a very minimum amount of sleep last night. THANK YOU.

I'm having a crisis! I've got to finish my speech! But how?! Ahhhhhhh. Help.

Feeling: Lonely and hateful
Listening to: One Last Breath by Creed

Hold me now, I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking maybe six feet ain't so far down.

Anyway. I was going to tell you about Far's condemnation, wasn't I? So, I'll do it now, seeing as my coffee post was no benefit to you at all. Other than you gaining the knowledge that in case you want to buy me a drink, coffee will do just fine right now. Milo mixed with coffee to be exact. It fills me up with energy and makes me hyper. I love coffee. But now is not the time to talk of coffee, it's time for Far. But first, know this is second hand news and may not be as accurate as it should be.

Well, you see, she studied in Sekolah Rendah Pusar Ulak before coming to Chung Hwa, and as you know, it's a Malay school. She was the only Christian there and for the first week of school there, she had friends, everything was okay. And then after that week, people started saying "Don't be friends with her, she's Christian." And even those few people who she thought were her friends turned to her and said "I can't be your friend anymore, you're Christian." And so that was the story.

Silly people. She is only one person I know who shares this kind of situation with me. :) Don't be friends with her, she's not like us.

But it's okay. I looked into this punks and skins business. They have a great purpose, did you know. Okay, so this is only the ACAB skinhead's view, but they're skins, okay. I don't know if all skins share this, but this is what I've gathered. ACAB are for unity, and against racism. They don't want anarchy, or to start a war, they just want to be free. And I think it's a great philosophy. I'll never look at them the same way again, and so this is what I'm calling a skinhead, someone who stands for freedom and unity. But a punk, he, to me, is one who stands against prejudice and the judging of people by apperances, and also one who needs freedom from human government, which means doing what one wants(it doesn't equal to illegalities).

So there you go. Punk. Skin. Rejoice, there are people fighting for the right causes. However, if you say you are a punk, or a skin, just because you dress that way, but don't stand for these things, I won't call you a punk/skin. :) Is that okay?

I drink coffee now.

I talked about my primary life with Far today too. We shared ours. We're both kind of outcasts, tortured by the impact of racism. You want to know about it? Okay, even if you don't, I'll tell.

I came to Brunei in 1997, I studied by correspondence from New Zealand at first, because I didn't want to study in an unfamiliar place so fast and correspondence school was fucking cool. I mean, it IS fucking cool. You get to wake up whenever you want. Correspondence school is homeschooling, by the way. With your teacher in another country, in my case, New Zealand. I'd get my workbooks and things in the mail, and we'd write letters to contact each other. I remember my last day in New Zealand, I had a choice - to visit my best friend, Erin, or meet my teacher, whom I would be writing letters to, for the first time. I chose to meet the teacher, because, well, I couldn't imagine writing to someone I hadn't met before. So, it was interesting. I can still recall bits of the building we were in, lots of drawings and books.

Anyway, that went on for I don't know 4 months, I think. Then in April(I can remember the date on the whiteboard "28 April 1997"), I went to Jigsaw International. I liked it there, everyone was all "Come here, Sue-Anne, come with us." and friendly. And you'd always have a friend, even when your best friend was fighting with you, there'd be others to stick up for you. That was my case anyway, that's why I liked it.

After 2 years, I had to change my station of education(HEEEE) to Chung Hwa, BSB. I cried when they told me. I didn't want to change schools, not with me loving Jigsaw so much. Let me also mention, the year I went to Chung Hwa, that was when my sister tells me I became an overly-angry and moody child. Very negative. I don't disagree. I know I was like that. So, let's just find out why.

The first day at Chung Hwa, everyone was asking where I was from. I thought, okay, curious. Then, as days went by, people were getting so very stupidly racist. Today Far told me she wanted to be my friend when she saw me alone, always, but everyone was telling her "Don't be friends with her, she's different. She's not like us." and I don't know if you know it, but primary school years were stupid. I also remember this one time, the girl brought sausages from the Phillipines to school, and she was giving one to everyone. People said "What about Sue-Anne?" and she said very sharply, "Oh, people from New Zealand can't eat beef." and I was just thinking "What kind of stupid lie is that?"

Oh, yes, I had friends. If friends are people you can talk to, I had them. I sat next to this boy called Alfi, he was nice, I just had no idea why people didn't like him. He was the nicest guy there, and maybe that's just because I was a loner like him, but he was nice. He had a stepmother who would beat him. I wonder how he is now. :)

OH! And, of course, the classic. I would follow these girls to the canteen at recess most everyday, until one of the whispered, but not very softly, to Jasmine to tell me that she didn't want me to go with them. I heard and when Jasmine turned and told me, I don't know, I guess I was hurt, and I went back to class wondering what was wrong with me, and why they didn't like me.

That was primary 4. Years and years went by. Primary 6, still people seemed to act like I had a contagious disease that could kill. But, I had my first best friend in primary 5, it was Far. Memories. There were many episodes of life like these I've mentioned, but all I've given you is enough for a brief summary of my fucked up childhood.

More years went by and Jasmine and other classmates became friendly. I don't think they realized what they did to me, isolating me like that, for years of my childhood, because they didn't apologize. Not one of them. But, whatever. Maybe they DON'T know. During one of those many years, Jasmine confessed something to me. The reason as to why she didn't like me in primary school. Because I had freckles. Because I was different. And fuck you, but that sounds like a lame and unreal reason. Again, whatever.

Even more years went by. Now I'm in Form 4. Jasmine is being as strange as ever, one of my best friends is talking to me like a stranger(and probably always will silently kill me like this) since that is the consequence of my actions, my beloved is trying so hard to understand my tattered soul, and the other best friend is still here, talking to me about the years of condemnment we both had to go through. This has been mine, I'll tell you about her's in the next post.

Feeling: Lost
Listening to: This Is Halloween by Danny Elfman

Days seem to go on forever, and yet, they don't seem long enough. Every day is lived the same, and it's kind of sad how I don't have that extra couple of giggles I used to have. In fact, it's very sad. It seems like everything has lost it's meaning, but at the same time, everything has a new and special meaning better than before. What is this I'm feeling? A renewed love and fascination for what I already loved and fascinated over? It's strange. I don't think I've ever felt this before, but(there's always a but) there's a vague familarity with it.

Today, I hung out with Muizz, we talked. It was informative. He found out I'd like to be a pilot or a journalist; I found out he wants to be an engineer or a doctor. He found out I want to study in France; I found out he's already been to France. He found out that I know when his birthday is; I found out that he asks questions he's already asked before. But mainly, we talked about... our English test 4, which is a speech. And such a speech requires aids, for more marks. So here they are, saying out loud, "I want aids." and I'm going "Huh?" and then they go "Not that kind of aids." and I go "Ohh." Ah. Uncanny.

I also had Izzuddin's hands around my neck this morning. He was pretending to strangle me from behind, and yes. I spent a certain amount of time talking to Joshua, who found out I'm very slow at guessing words(He has this bracelet with the initials TLW, it's a sentance, and I wanted to know what it stands for. So I spent that time trying endlessly to come up with words, and in the end the sentance was "True Love Waits."). AND I kind of had lunch with Li Jing, Wun Hock(He looks like Mary-Kate Olsen. HAHAHA) and Soon Ket. Since WH is Mary-Kate, he calls SK Ashley. And whenever they speak of each other it's always 'she'. HAHA. Amusing.

Also. I don't know what else.

I used to love Thursdays, it was the day we could talk about nothing and everything. But my Thursdays are gone, so I hate them. Or at least I wish I did. I still love them, only with a more 'lost love' feeling. Well. Life.

By the way, for my English speech thing, it has to be sociological, so I'm doing something about society today, and it's problems. Mainly fashion, music, musicians, television and.. I think that's it. Something like what I did on Rant-filled empty box. entitled Modern Society.

I wonder if it hurts you if I'm happy.
I wonder if it'd hurt me if you were.

I think I'm jealous. People have guy best friends, and everytime I see them sharing drinks or eating together, I think about you. But I guess that's what memories do... Make you remember things.

Feeling: Dumb
Listening to: Scars by Papa Roach

Hahahahahaha. I'm a sadistic little bitch, but this is funny. I was trying to edit a previous post, which I will do later, thanks to this little problem, the page flickered, and then this took over the page:

The access to site:

http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=6638655&postID=112403115820463471

has been blocked since it contains offensive material.

Access Time: 8/15/2005 8:13:13 AM

If you believe this is an error then please contact your System Administrator with above details.

I'm at school. It happens a lot, so it's funny.

Feeling: Pained
Listening to: The hum of the fridge

I passed the building near my house on the way home, I thought to myself as I did: I've been there with my twin. We had fun. We raced. And then he spun me round, and I was looking at everything whizz by, in his arms. That's a memorable thought. It's a good one, it is. It makes me smile. And I can't even say it was our last day together, because it doesn't seem like it. It's much too happy to be considered the last memory in each other's presence. Because well, there will be no other memories. It's okay. It's my fault.

And he's angry at me.

Of course, there were other memories. Ones where they still make me smile.

And then there's the one memory I hate. The only one. The one when I realized I could hurt him. That sucks.

Maybe I've been reading too many books. Because every thought I have is composed in a kind of way as it would be in a book. I describe everything in my head, every detail, like in a book. And I plan to write it all down, but of course, it doesn't happen. Because my thoughts aren't the safest things, or the nicest, or whatever you expect thoughts to be. Because I'm an asshole.

I wish I could erase me and my life and everything that even hints my existance, and shove on out of here. Go to Mars or wherever it is they don't judge you, or hate you, or even think of you. It's much more safer. That way people don't get hurt, feelings don't get crushed and hearts don't get broken. But most of all, tears won't fall, flesh won't bleed, and loved ones won't be lost.

I cry for you. Or maybe I just cry. I cry like there's nothing else to do, like it will actually change something. But it doesn't.

I'm losing touch with people. Even Shiela, I went out with her the other night, we used to be the best of friends. We haven't seen each other for a little over a year, and look what happens, we can't even have a decent topic to talk about for 2 minutes.

Will that become of us? Of course it will, once everyone's calmed down and we've forgotten what we're angry about. But that might take a while.

Here's an interesting thing: On Saturday night, I was with Shiela, yes, and we were at JP, and that night, all the disabled ones here for the Special Olympics were there too. And people said people like them are scary. Well, they're not. Shame on you for saying so. They're so much better than what you said. They're lovely. <3 I want to watch the Olympics.

I don't know what I want to be when it comes time to choose. Study social science, maybe. Become a pilot, maybe. That's all the maybes I have.

I hate me. So, enough. Here's something that is really very nice that I took from here, I nearly cried:

It was 2am, and we were in the middle of the street; wet and hopeless. The rain kept pouring heavily from the stars for two hours straight. At this point at this time, i just want to kiss you real hard. But i let that thought slip away just for awhile. We were walking towards nowhere and i had tangles in my hair, but you made me feel so pretty. You had shining eyes just like the forest lights, and it made me want to cry. So i cried, but you just smiled at me. You gave me a sad smile that i found so beautiful, i lost myself staring at the perfect crescent on your lips. Do you remember the flowers i picked for you from your best friend's backyard? That was the day when you told me you loved me after i kissed another boy at a party. I was walking ahead of you, because i didnt want you to see my sad face. I'd prefer to be remembered as a smiling face, not this fucking wreck thats taken its place. You called out my name, and i stopped walking. you ran and ran, and the rain poured on you. You were making your way towards me, i felt so happy. I just stood there, not sure of what i was supposed to feel. After all that running, you asked me why i was crying. And i told you it was because of you, but you gave me that laugh- that laugh of yours that i wouldnt mind hearing everyday. My vision was blurred but i could still smell your saccharine scent. I was mumbling something i wasnt aware of but somehow you stopped me at mid-sentence and kissed me. real hard. under the rain. I opened my eyes just for a second because i wanted to know that this was real; you and me. I saw a tiny glimpse of the glittering rain all over the street, and the feeling was just perfect. I closed my eyes again, ready to lose myself in you once again. We held hands across the street and wasted the night away. It was then that i told you 'come with me little face, we're going to save the world' and you gave me that look like it was the most spontaneous thing youve ever heard. You let go off my hand just for a moment, because you were running to a stranger's backyard and two minutes later, you came back with a yellow rose. You said 'everytime that im with you, i feel infinite. youre the only person that can make my heart beat fast and slow at the same time. so come on, lets just run away you and me. lets ditch this suburban town and run away. we're going to hold hands and run into the sunset together.' and then we danced the night away. We danced to the unknown tune that you were humming, and i knew right then we didnt need a DJ. We could dance anywhere, just as long as you were with me. We slow danced for merely fifteen minutes and it made me want to cry. but this time, i didnt cry. because i knew you were mine, and i was yours. I looked at the time, it was 4am. I said, 'hey, lets eat breakfast at the nearest diner' and you didnt say a word but you juts smiled. the next thing i knew, we were filling our stomachs with hash browns and tasteless coffee. afterwards you took me home and tucked me in bed. you gave me a goodnight kiss and said, 'lets do this again' and left. my phone rang a few seconds later, and a familiar voice said 'goodnight love'- and that was you. It was just the little things you did that made me smile, the little things that i could never forget.

But that was a year ago, and now im here, on a plane to new york. I remember everything that happened a year ago. its lonely without you here, and its cold, and i miss the way we would play especially on friday nights. i hate friday nights now. we used to fight and scream and cry at each other and i would hang up but you would just keep ringing and ringing until i had no choice but to talk to you. you have a new girlfriend now, shes the opposite of me, i think you might be in love with her. you wont hurt her the way you hurt me because you saw how much it wrecked me. you asked how i was last weekend and im so glad that i still cross your mind, even if its only on brief occassions. how the fuck can i still feel so empty without you? remember the nights where we would watch the OC episode after episode, which i know you hated; but you know i loved. your mom loved me, and i miss her. your aftershave was in my bag, god knows why. we always left our things in the most random places because that was just what we did. and i sprayed it on me, on my neck that you loved to kiss. and my wrists that you always fretted about; because you once saw my scars. but all of that doesnt matter anymore, because that was a year ago. so now im praying that my plane would crash; you'd hear the news and you'd think of me as much as i thought of you.

Sorry Yvonne, I stole it from you. Give her a clap cause that really is pretty.

Forgive my previous attempt at a post. It was some stuff I wrote today and some days ago. The underlined and bold paragraph is like, two views of a situation. So the underlined words are what one person is saying, and the bold, what another is saying. I think it's easier to understand now. :) Good bye.

Feeling: Stupid

Forever, you told me, placed my guilt on a a distant cloud. Shielding me with the little belief that you'd be back one day. But you never returned. Well, not yet, anyway. When the truth finally seeps through, what would become of me? When the forcefield of happiness breaks and despair flows back to me. You say forever, yet forever is just a lie. Forever doesn't exist, so what's the glory in believing?

You wear your lies like a mask. It's sickening yet attractive, the mastery with which you have sinned and acclaimed. When all is said and done, and there's nothing left to admire, who will take your place and rid this moment of shame? I mourn for your sadness, yet I don't know how it happens. You're a mystery and a half, curled up in one. You hate everyone you see, and you love everyone you touch. So, what is it with me? Does the light shine bright enough? Music controls your world. It tells you when to be happy, and it steals you from me all the bloody time. Sometimes I get jealous, you're in love with something else. At least, it seems that way when you cry your eyes out. Time with you is endless, but it only looks that way to me. With all our "goodbye"s, who'd have known we're still friends? Daggers of envy threaten to kill. I just stare at them and laugh. What more can I do? Love has already destroyed me.

You said you'd see me today. I waited, but you didn't come. And there I was full of undeserved hope, and praying to God that you'd show up. But you never did, did you? I came to see you today. You were so beautiful. I wanted to go over there and hold you and tell you I didn't let you down. But I didn't. I couldn't. So, I just stood there and watched, praying to God you didn't hate me as much as I knew you did. I went over to your house, but no one was there to open the door. So, I just waited. I needed to know if you were alright. But you weren't. And you didn't tell me. And you didn't say goodbye. I saw you knock on the door and peer through the window. Were you looking for me? I wanted so much to talk to you. But I couldn't. So, I sat behind shadows and cried the most painful tears of my life.

I secretly hoped you'd be there, by the staircase, just like always. It was always nice to see you. But this time you weren't there. And I wondered when I would see you again. I'm getting too selfish these days, wishing I could see that flashy smile of yours and have you say goodbye, because it hurts. It could never happen. And wish is all I can do.

Feeling: Bored
Listening to: Sugar, We're Going Down by Fall Out Boy

It's so bloody easy to call yourself a bad name. It's like, you, your own self are the easiest person to insult. So, it's official. I am the world's biggest fucking asshole in the whole fucking world. Woohoo. Pop open that champagne, we're celebrating.

How come people fail to realize just how important they are? Why do they always assume they are walking shit? I'm sure not everybody is like that. Golly gee, I'm sure. What annoys me about people who pessimize(if there's such a word), when they really aren't as bad as they say. AND why don't people care if you feel like you need them? Why do they have to go shove a fork up your ass and say "It's all my fault, I have to go now and I can't ever come back. Nope, no more being friends with you." Don't these people realize they have more better purposes than for just being there whenever needed. I sound foolish now. Haha. I sound like a game-player, a toy-user. And right now, only one person could know what I'm talking about. And chances are, that one person isn't reading this.

Okay, so these people do know how significant they are, and that is neither over nor under the real importance. Are they just trying to pull all our strings and find out how vital they can become? It's annoying the fuck out of me.

Maybe I'm the selfish one. Maybe I'm the one who's so obssessed with what I need, instead of focusing on what the people need. Maybe so. But can't they just tell me straight forward, I hate you because blablabla. Why do they have to leave a mysterious trail they expect me to follow and play close attention to? I'm being hypocritical. Great.

Let's be more brief, life right now, it sucks. Well, not really, but it's driving my crazy. It seems as though life itself is destroying me. The only way to end this insanity is obvious. Anyone got a gun?

And it's not you I'm aiming it at.