Feeling: Itchy
Listening to: Boys Don't Cry by The Cure

I'm being a complete ass. I've been slacking in my work. I keep promising myself I'd study since the exams start on Monday and I've only been doing Geography and Science. Most of all this studying is just trying to make up for time wasted but I always find a reason not to study. Lame.

Before I typed all that out, I had a great insight on what I was going to type about but now I've lost it. It's gone. :(

But wait! I've got something:

Angelic Reject
With your wings burnt
And your halo melted,
You lie tattered on the ground.
Rejected
And thrown out of heaven,
Your soul shattered without a sound.

The ash around you,
All from your flight,
They leave traces in the sand.
Traces of love and freedom,
Of purity and hope,
Of more innocence than I'd understand.

With your fingers broken
And your ankles crushed,
I reach out to touch your face.
It hurts already
Before I get close
To see you run with quickened pace.

Into the darkness,
Into the night
You run without looking back.
And when you stop,
You feel the pain
Of your bones about to crack.

The last thing you hear
In your ringing ears
Is the sound of babies crying.
And the last you see
With your blackened eyes
Is the vision of angels dying.

You look up
At the thundered sky
And realize you're all alone.
Every one left you,
Your fallen soul,
Your blood, flesh and bone.

That was something written on a tiny piece of paper kept in my pencil case. It's this poem that completes itself when words come to my mind. I think it's finished now, don't you?

You know what, I'm hungry. But I don't want to eat. There's nothing to eat anyway, but it's not like you care. I'm off. It's getting late. I need to study. HA. HA. HA. HA.

Feeling: Content
Listening to: Sidewalks by Story Of The Year

So I went to watch that firework display they had last night at around 9:15PM. It was actually really good. My sister said it was the first fireworks from the river in brunei? Something like that. Yeah, it was pretty cool. The designs were good and shit. I went with Prince and he just loves fireworks. So he was like a kid in a candy shop. He really made me wonder how they make fireworks, you know? How they make the designs and stuff. Mysterious.

After the fireworks, we had nothing to do so we went by the stadium and it was there that we saw the car accident. Well, the car that got in the accident. It was all bashed up, I tell you. 3 quarters of the back of the car was torn away and smashed up. It was a bad accident, I don't think anyone got hurt though. There was a big crowd though, and police men. Obviously, we had no business there at the stadium so I went home. On the way home, Prince saw his friends so he went and chatted with them. They were being really stupid. :) That entertained me for the moment. Oh yea, and the background sound of those Thai people singing and playing guitar was funny.

I'm chatting with Leech now. But of course, we're not saying anything. Just random messages of ":)". Hahaha. It's really funny, but he's leech now. That's not Strawberry I'm chatting with. It's good enough for me though. His display name's "Creamed" so I'm just picturing creamed leech. You know, like soup? Yeah. Interesting.

I woke up at 4:45AM after going to sleep at 1:10AM and I wonder what I'm still doing awake. I thought I'd try to enlight myself by blogging the blog. It seems to be working slightly, but working nonetheless. I like that word - nonetheless. It's cool. Cause I said so.

Yeah, okay. The blogging has lost its ability to entertain. I've nothing left to write about, I think. So I'll see you later, homosapiens. Keamanan keluar. (That's "peace out" in Malay, if I didn't get it wrong)

Feeling: Sleepy
Listening to: Metropolis by Dream Theatre

Today, the 9th of September 2004, the newly wed 30 year-old crowned prince (I honestly don't know his name. HAHA) and his 17 year-old bride took a parade around BSB as a couple. At least, that's what I think it was. I mean, they were already married before today, right? Yeah. Well, as the government just loves to torture young, innocent souls, us students were asked to wave flags along the roads that they paraded. CHMS students included. I actually went. Wow.

It was really hot at first, with the sun being as scorching as it is. So Farianne, Jasmine and I stayed under the shade. Our post was at the Lapau, by the way. I think that's where we were. I'm not good with places. But anyway, we grouped up with Yi Shien, that girl, Olivia, Siow Mei and Lizzie and played games. You know how immature we are, so this isn't surprising. And plus, we were super bored. We ended up continuously walking to and from the, what we called it, "Pasar Pagi". Saw some of the First Aiders I know. They remember me. Cool.

And then, I suppose the wind from the helicopter brought all the rainclouds to where it was going, so it started raining. Just drizzling first, as it usually does before it rains heavily, and then really heavy. So the guys were in uncensored paradise as the girls were all wet and see through from the rain. Hahaha. It was fun though. Running around in the rain. Sheer fun. I couldn't help notice Kelvin playing in the rain, right after he told me I'm going to get sick if I stay in the rain.

So that was that. I met Teddy yesterday too for the, what? Second time. And got an ass-kicking mother in my face after that. He gave me the Good Charlotte poster I'd asked for. :) Thank you again, for keeping your promise. I was away for half an hour. No wonder she was "mad". If mad can even be used for the amount of steam coming out of her head. It just makes me feel so caged up. The way I'm not allowed to have fun anymore. Oh well. PMB's in 34 days. The death day. So soon. Too soon.

I'm sleepy. I really am. I guess it's from all that walking around. Which reminds me! I saw Fatin today. It must have been ages since Far, Jas and Livia saw her cause they were screaming her name and waving like lunatics. We had a short conversation and it turns out Rashid, an ex-classmate, now apparently her schoolmate, has a girlfriend. Yeah, his girlfriend is a guy though. Cool. :) How un-prejudicelike. And Sakinah, though I've known since last year, she's getting married. They're still in Form 1 though, but whatever. So yeah, Fatin was telling them that she always sees me everywhere. And she asked me "Was that your boyfriend? The guy I saw you with last time?" She was talking about Prince and that made me ask myself the same question. I care though. Really, I do. I care. I'll leave it at that. Good night.

Feeling: Hungry
Listening to: Living In The Shadows by Billy Talent

1:35PM:
I'm about to pass out due to hunger. And why I don't want to eat? I'll get to that. Popo, my grandmother, just walked through the door. Wow, it's been ages since the last time I'd seen her come home. Or is this not her home anymore? Seeing her reminds me of the time when I used to be so scared of her. But really, she was just so scary. Not that she isn't now, but I'm not as scared of her anymore. I thought she was really... evil. She never liked Europeans since what happened between my parents, so it was really funny when uncle Robin came over for a visit from New Zealand and she just kept screaming at him. HAHA. I was laughing my ass off. But that's not the point. Whenever she'd get angry at me she'd say "Of course, you're the devil's daughter." The devil was my dad though, to her. Yup, so you'd hear her ask me "Where's the devil?" I never liked it. It felt as if she was mocking me.

I used to be so scared of her. When I was very much younger, and she stayed at this house, she would always make me and my brother sleep in the afternoon but I never wanted to. I thought I didn't need to and that my young days were meant for laughter and play. And awake-ness. So I'd go in my room and play with my brother. Then whenever Popo would open the door to check on us, we'd stop whatever we were doing and just drop down on the floor with our eyes closed and pretend we were sleeping. Of course, I don't know why I somehow thought that she wouldn't know we were really awake. But she always did.

She locked me in the kitchen once, because I didn't want to go to sleep and so I curled up in a ball and went to sleep by the kitchen table. Haha. And when she opened the door, I jumped straight up, pretending I wasn't doing anything.

My brother always has to have is say of words with everyone though, including her. His words got him locked up outside once too. We have this gate around the front door, so it's sort of like a cage. Yeah, he was locked out over there. I always pitied him for his stupidity and need to have the last word.

There are a lot of other incidents though, we were never allowed to play outside so we had to stay indoors all the time. I hated it. But I didn't object, I found my own entertainment in playing Barbie dolls with my brother. :) Yeah, I have a gay-ass brother who plays with Barbie dolls. We still tease him about it. This might be why I feel the constant need to be free. To not be caged up cause that'd already happened in my younger days.

So that's why I was so scared of her, why I feared even the smell of her. I'd be so frightened, I'd stop whatever I was doing, whether it was talking or playing, and just freeze whenever she was in the room. We'd eat meals in silence. I used to ask my sister "Why can't she just be like those grandmothers on TV? The kind that make cookies and give you hugs and kisses?" I wonder what it'd be like if that did happen. It would have been very different, that's all I know. My sister always wished that Popo would just go to sleep and never wake up. Then she would complain that that wouldn't happen in a long time because she's a strong woman, she is. Wrinkles and all, she's a God damned survivor!

Popo's in the kitchen now, doing God knows what. I can hear the crinkling of plastic bags. And so now you know why I don't want to eat. I don't want to go in the kitchen. I'm a sissy. :) Come save me? Get me some food and I'll give you a hug. I'll just wait until I pass out then. Or until she leaves the kitchen. Haha. You know the story of my life now, the trapped-up, caged-in childhood. And how I died of starvation on the 4th of September. Check the obituaries in the Borneo Bulletin tomorrow. You'll see printed in big block letters: "OUR CONDOLENCES TO THE FAMILY OF SUE-ANNE COVENTRY, WHO PASSED AWAY SILENTLY YESTERDAY AS SHE TRIED TO SURVIVE THE NEED TO EAT. SHE LEFT US AT 1:58PM, SATURDAY MORNING. WE WON'T MISS HER, BUT I JUST THOUGHT EVERYONE SHOULD KNOW THEY CAN START PLANNING THE PARTIES."

It's Something Unforgivable

Feeling: Sick
Listening to: This Photograph Is Proof (I Know You Know) by Taking Back Sunday

I had the sudden urge to write something in class. Yes, I know, I'm supposed to be learning in class, but what can you do when the little pixies come up to you and whisper in your ear words of inspiration. :) You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you? Of course you don't. But here it is:

Girl Held On Strings

No one would have known
That this girl was held on strings,
That she lived life like a puppet
With no need of earthly things.
Everyone would stare
But they'd never know what was wrong.
This girl, the puppet,
Had felt caged for far too long.
And when the wind did blow
She would so gently sway.
And the air would guide her up
But planted she would stay.
She envied every single bird
For freely they would fly
Into the clouds and heavens
And the endless star-filled sky.
Then one day as dawn broke,
Who would have so cleverly guessed?
This girl, she disappeared
And her soul, it went to rest.
She'd closed her eyes one final time
And let go of all she held.
This girl kept on strings
Wasn't heard when she yelled and yelled.
Covering her face,
She cried of things she'd never tell.
She felt the strings break,
And down, down she fell.

I think it's out of place, but whatever. If that's what the pixies told me to write... :) You think I'm insane. Which brings me to the next topic - I was looking through my old notes from earlier this year and I came across an unfinished poem:

They name us with labels, labels because we're different. Because we don't live on lies, because we're not like them. Because we'll never be, they kick us aside, shove us in the dirt until we're blinded by the mud pushed in our face. Because we dare to accept who we are, because we share the innocence they used to have. ...For now it's gone.

I actually finished writing this entry out ages ago, but blogspot was being sucky so it didn't record it and now I have to type it all out again. Fuck.

Yesterday night, okay, Thursday night was Charity Night. Which meant CHMS students would try to perform for charity, which you had to pay to see, in front of lots of other people. I honestly don't know why they would want to embarrass themselves so much. But they said it was good. They said it was a nice performance, but there was someone who said the most boring performance was the piano-playing senario because she just didn't know how to appreciate it. Tell that to Beethoven. She said Fakhrul's performance was the best though, so good for him. He sang This Love by Maroon 5 with Ali and them playing the band.

I have a new layout, if you haven't noticed. It features what's-his-name of Taking Back Sunday. And since he's screaming into a mic, I wonder if you people know what he does... I kind of fucked up the words though since it's not very good graphically because I had to make it in JPG format, I needed to save space, so now it's all shitty! The words on the right got cut off, so if you can't read it, it says: "I'll do what I got to do, the truth is you could slit my throat and with my one last gasping breath, I'd appologise for bleeding out your shirt." I love that line. It's from You're So Last Summer. I was having a debate whether to spell appologise with an 's' or 'z'. You can see what I chose.

You might be hearing some music here soon. But I don't know if I should let you go through the torture of having to listen to my music. :) It isn't really torture, but my sister thinks so. Hahaha. Well, if I do decide to finally get my ass around to putting up music on a server, I'll let it play here for your sick, little minds to endure. I swear, you'll be seeing those millions of pixies soon, and they'll be whispering in your ears. But as for now, I notice you're all jealous they're talking to me and not you. :D

At last, someone envies me. I love you.

8 Months.

Feeling: Worried
Listening to: Distress In The Control Tower by Anatomy For A Ghost

Dear you,
It's been a while, hasn't it? I've been busy shitting myself and figuring out a way to fuck myself. :) No, seriously, I've just gone through my First Trial Examinations. The results are far beyong shit-fuckingly shitty, but whatever. My marks have dropped a LOT, but you don't care. What's that? You'd like to know what my results are? If you insist...

You'll have to wait until next time though. I don't want to expose my dreadful self just yet. Besides, I haven't gotten my Computer paper back yet, which might I add, I messed up very well. I repeated an old mistake I used to do and redo. I got microcomputers, mixed up with minicomputers. But dude, I'm not that mistaken, who would remember MINI is bigger than MICRO?! Pfft.

And to think I'm going to have to go through another set of exams much like this, maybe even more shocking than the first, but yeah, I'm going to have to go through my Second Trial Examinations in less than 20 days. Lord, save my soul.

But wait. All this is in preparation for the big PMB exam. Again with the exams! I hate them! Enough! Seems this year is out to hunt me down, put a stake through my ass, burn me as alive as I'd be after having that stake up my ass, and then feed my burnt remains to the devil. In this sense though, the devil is the PMB. At least, that's what I'm calling it for now.

I think there's the tiniest bit of jealousy tingling inside me. But for what, I'm not telling. I won't let it out though. I won't let the jealousy break free of the thin glass bottle I hold so clumbsily in my hands. It'll just bounce across these four walls around me and knock out everything in its path.

I hate blogs. Have I told you how much I hate blogs? Especially Bruneian ones. I don't know why, but they seem to arouse more hatred than those by people in other countries. How sad. Haha. Don't worry though. I'll get over this hatred I have for the things I own.

I have reasons as to why I hate blogs so much, though. I think one of them is because I don't understand what the fuck they're supposed to be about? About your daily routines, your most kept feelings, or is it whatever the hell you want it to be? So I don't know what to type here. Writing about what I did all day will bore the shit out of you. But that'd be fun... Wouldn't it? Yeah, I think I'll start to do that then. Knowing how much I love to copy people, plagiurize and steal other people's identity. I'll do that. But not just yet, not today. Today is for my ramblings of what I love, what I hate and so forth.

I feel like making a list of the people I love. So I'll do that and no one can stop me. HAHAHA. Bite my ass, I'll smile at you then let out the laugh that killed Elvis Presley. You did know he died because of someone's laugh, right? Of course you didn't. I'm talking bullcrap, darling. And if you believed me, you're going on my list of people I love.

I need a new layout, don't I? I bet you've been staring at those old Converse sneakers for .. forever. I'll change it. Eventually. So don't worry. The light will shine through on your pretty little face.

I sound smart. I love sounding smart. Sounding smart makes me look smart, and looking smart makes me feel smart. So sounding smart is good. Yes, yes it is. I can hear you all begging me to stop rambling now, so I will. Now you can shut up, lift up your right hand in a fist and raise the middle finger at me. And I'll take my bow and be on my way.

Yours when death consumes,
Vodka-