arbieandchubbs.livejournal.com

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time to take it to another level

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my last gift

the kind of feeling you get when you know you've lost something amazing.

the last one I will ever tell, will also be the longest and most painful of them all.

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I missed you, so, so much.

I cannot, I can't lose to myself. Get up Shiyang. Get, up now. I beg you.

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FUCKSHITFUCKYOU

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Well, Duh.

Yes, it is I suppose empowering to make choices like that, to give up something so coveted. I am strong for sure,

But I am so alone.

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prodigal of promise

How do you know when someone’s really looking into your eyes? If I take a photograph of you and me will I be able to draw a dotted line from pupil to pupil? I don’t, and I never actually know, but hey to put it crudely, your eyes are magnets, and mine, magnetized.

Anyway, I looked in your eyes and said I was sorry, two seconds too early it seems or maybe I am just bad at this because it felt like you were about to do the same, yourself. But something in your eyes told me that my words made you reconsider the apology at the tip of your tongue, “Shit.” Why bother apologizing to someone who has already accepted all blame? And something in your eyes told me that you were slowly ridding yourself of all guilt, convincing yourself that it was misplaced, realizing that it was me this time round and maybe me all this while.

Then I woke up. So you see, we are both guiltless in all this. I say “you” and “we” in the loosest sense possible, because honestly, I forgot who you were.

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such a pretty, pretty girl.

MY HATE CAN ONLY GET STRONGER LIKE ME IT IS THE ONLY WAY.

AWWWWWW MAN HEADACHE.

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If you were she

Today I felt as though life was dreadfully inadequate. And I could sense that monstrous and insatiable hunger, that need, for more, more, more, the me in me that said I. WANT. EVERYTHING. Something that could make me more than human, or less than. A deal with the devil. An ascension of sorts, to something greater, and something unimaginable. Something different.

Not all who jump off buildings have a deathwish on their minds. Of course, there are those who step off the ledge and close their eyes knowing that in no time, they will hear nothing, feel nothing, and cease to be, anything. They are dead before they hit the ground. But there are those who go down with their eyes open, arms outstretched, and in those precious few moments they taste life as they’ve never tasted it before. Maybe, maybe my arms will turn into wings, just at the last second, at the very last moment before I perish, and I will take flight into the horizon and I will be unlike any other before me. Because I flew.

Nobody means it when they ask to be able to fire laser beams out of their eyes. And there are few who pray to break others beneath their fiery gaze. But somewhere inside each and every one of us, we’ve hoped, and we still hope that something makes us special, something makes us unique from the one next to us on that mundane bus ride. We don’t ask for much. Some of us wish for the ability to sleep, peacefully, amidst the mindless drivel of the quarrelling parents. Even more of us wish for the ability to stop them, to wipe the tears from their eyes and drive the anger from their hearts. To make everything okay. Then there are those who wish that they could be heard by anybody, is anybody even listening to me? Some just want to stop feeling lonely, and some just want their imaginary friends to be real, to be there for them, and sometimes, to just be there. And any of us who’s ever watched a beauty pageant would know that there are those amongst us who wish for, what else? World peace.

But most of us have looked at the sky at some point and marveled over its beauty. Perhaps it is beautiful because it is unreachable. Or perhaps it is beautiful in the way that cannot be explained. The same way you look into somebody’s eyes and say “You are beautiful”, and you don’t even know why. But the words are out, and you do not regret them. You meant them all the same.

But I digress.

What I really wanted to say was, we don’t ask for much. Most of us just want to soar in the sky and be part of its beauty, if even for just a moment or two.

So next time, don’t judge.

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When Love And Hate Collide

I love you but I don't how much I should, which wouldn't be a problem if I knew how much you loved me to begin with.

Hold on.

You do, right?

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Sometimes We Learn To Say No To The Good Things

Sometimes life isn’t all about balance. Sometimes life is about wanting this and wanting that and doing anything to get everything. And you will bleed and you will scream but your greed knows no bounds, so you will fight till you are wretched and you are all but there. You are everywhere.

Sometimes life isn’t about loving. About being happy. Because it may take less muscles to smile than to frown, but the words “I Hate You” come out more easily than their counterparts. Cause sometimes life gets bitter, not bittersweet, never bittersweet, just bitter and we get on our knees and pray for things that never come but we go on and pray anyway for what is living without hope. And what is breathing without dreams?

But there’s a reason why we dream and why we live and why sometimes we don’t do both together. Because sometimes we set our feet firmly on the ground and whisper to ourselves that we were never free to begin with, and what wishful thinking, because we bear the hopes of a generation long gone. And who are we to embark on a journey of our own when an unfinished one was set upon us before we’d learnt to bear a burden?

Once in a while life isn’t about being good. It was never about being perfect, sure, but sometimes it’s about being bad too. Its about being naughty, stealing the cookie from the cookie jar, staying up past your bed time, not coming home for dinner, walking out on someone, drinking and driving, needles and lies, sharp tongues and slick smiles, and more. Definitely more.

But if we never lose then we never really win either. And if we never hate then we never know what it means to love. And we risk losing ourselves in the clouds if our feet aren’t somewhere safe. And if no one were bad then all good people would be the same. And when we stop hurting, we stop being human too.

Life isn’t all about breathing deep and breathing strong, but the moments that take your breath away. For better or for worse.

Today was for better, for sure. (:

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Never lie to a lady


I kissed you good bye at the airport.
I held you so close to me.
I said So here we are now and I cant stop from crying Lilly.
And you said Hey hey hoo, you know this is the way to go
You will forget about me when Im on that plane.
Forget about me when Im on that plane.

Tonight tonight tonight tonight
I wanna be with you tonight tonight tonight tonight
I wanna be with you tonight

The plane took off and my love went with it.
The chilly wind whipped my both cheeks hard.
And the man next to me said Everything is gonna be alright.
I said Nothing is gonna be alright, but thank you anyway.
And then I saw your face in the airplane window.
I waved my hands and I shouted to you:

Tonight tonight tonight tonight
I wanna be with you tonight tonight tonight tonight
I wanna be with you tonight

I wore a T-shirt and my worn out hat.
Abandoned as a summer cat.
And as I stood there as a broken hearted I realized you got the car keys still.
So I broke into my own old car.
I fell asleep on the passenger seat.
I dreamed of summer sex with you and you whispered in my ear:

Tonight tonight tonight tonight
I wanna be with you tonight tonight tonight tonight
I wanna be with you tonight
Why cant you leave me tomorrow instead?
Why cant you leave me tomorrow instead?

And above the clouds she said to her self I cant believe how naive a man can be.
Thats why I love you so and thats why I cant be with you

Tonight tonight tonight tonight
I wanna be with you tonight tonight tonight tonight
I wanna be with you tonight

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already I am pining.

But I know this feeling does not flow both ways.

at least, not in the way I feel it.

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I hate having to say goodbye to people whom I’ll dearly miss but whom I know are on the brink of having the time of their lives. It’s such a selfish thing to say but

I’ll hate having to say goodbye to you.

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If I could be the repairman


I. Am. Freaking. Tired.

It’s been an insane, insanely fun past weeks. Like seriously, I could never have imagined that mugging would be so fun! OKAY AS IN THE MUGGING WASN’T FUN BUT WE LIVE FOR THE SPACES IN BETWEEN YOU GET WHAT I MEAN? Things like our dilemma over where to get Good Food for lunch, from canteen to J8 to United Square to Food Court (!?!?) to Jack’s Place to BEN AND JERRY’S ICE CREAM. Things like being told “WANT TO SLEEP THEN GO HOME” by the ever-friendly librarian at Esplanade, I have many presents for him. Funny things like our daily GRAND PLANS, and we all know that being late for any GRAND PLAN means a Yakun Kaya Toast breakfast treat. Stupid things like exploiting faulty classroom windows just to find a good place to study. Painful things like having to rip our test papers to shreds, with the exciting prospect of incinerating them later, when what’s really torn to shreds was our confidence, and what we burn we hope to forget. Beautiful things like sunsets, when you realize momentarily that our school really is a beautiful place to be in, and is filled with beautiful people, you just have to wait. Breathtaking things like glimpses of sheer beauty, manifestations of everything that you’ve ever wanted, strolling right past you, practically unnoticeable to anyone but yourself. Breathtaking things like, applications of integration.

I don’t really know what I’m writing anymore, and I’m having the feeling that it’s really because my promos mugging experience was such an unbelievably stressful but unbelievably memorable one. It’s like everyday was different. Everyday was, different. Strange how I feel this way, maybe I’m just an emotional retard, but when you get the feeling that you’re going to miss PROMOS MUGGING, or rather the people that you mugged with, then I guess it all must mean something to you. Maybe it’s the idea that there’re ten or so other people sitting around you striving towards a common goal of acing those promos, ten other people who’re probably more than happy to explain the most terribly difficult chem concept to you, who’re all ready(perhaps all too ready) for a chat, anytime, and ten other people who you can laugh at, and laugh with.

I still don’t know what I’m writing here, probably cause I’ve been trying to condense about an entire month’s worth of joy and laughter, of aching pains and of exhausted minds into a blog post.

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

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She woke from a dream
Her head was on fire
Why was he so nervous?
He took her to the park
She crossed her arms
And lowered her eyelids

Someday, somebody's gonna ask you
A question that you should say yes to
Once in your life
Baby, tonight I've got a question for you

She had no idea
Started to cry
She said in a good way
He took her by the hand
Walked her back home
And they took the long way

Someday, somebody's gonna ask you
The question that you should say "yes" to
Once in your life
Maybe tonight I've got a question for you
I've got a question for you

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I have called you hot, but now I'd like to call you beautiful.

Somehow I feel like my deal with the devil's nearing its end, and now i'm losing my eyesight, among other things.

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won't you save me a seat next to you?

my mind has caved in on itself and all i can remember are memories of sitting down.

sitting in a cinema
sitting in restaurants
sitting in cabs
sitting in buses
sitting at home
sitting in tutorial
sitting in lectures
sitting in a corner
sitting by the track
sitting against a wall
sitting on the cold, grey stone floor

sitting, alone.

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I am tired and I am angry

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I love Subway, yes i do.

I wish that I was beautiful for you
I wish that I inspired tiny fireworks inside the way you do
So delicately made
A prayer left unprayed
Before the morning sky fades
Up to blue
And I wish that I was beautiful for you

I wish that somehow I could find a pill
For a quick fix modern tonic that would change me with one swallow I would
kill

Watch folks line up to pay
Stare at me all day
But I'd turn them all away
If that be thy will
One tiny little innocuous pill

But a wish is just a pin
In a swimming pool of needles
If for one night you need the room
I wish to be your tomb
You can lie in me

Is it possible I've other things you need
But to be worthy of a single page out of one of those magazines you read
As glossy as a mirror
But mirrors never lie
They're difficult on the eye
It's true
And I wish that I was beautiful for you

I dreamed that we were travelling on a bus
Speeding along an unnamed plain towards somewhere and nowhere there was us
Our hands lay useless in our laps
Like beetles on their backs

We came to a stretch of road where a fire
Had burned the edges all along it looked as though the highway wore eyeliner
You kissed me by surprise
When I opened my eyes
You'd turned into some old guy
I screamed
But don't forget of all these things I've only dreamed

If for one night you need the room
I will be your tomb
You can lie in me

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Human as I am.

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I watch you walk away; it is like fire

It was really amazing to be able to take a week off from the mundane routines that define our everyday school life, all the lectures and all the tutorials, and just hang around the TSD room till late to help/ watch, where chaos and confusion are the order of the day. I was escaping, really. I believe some of us were. Escaping from my triple Us and running away from all the needless nonsense. Which is probably why my return to lessons today, or at least, the first two blocks of lessons today, GP and physics, felt so strange. Strange that I felt such a terrible longing to be anywhere else but in the back row of A56, listening to teachers drone on and on about what stupid mistakes we made in our CTs and how we could better improve. Perhaps now that I put it that way, it doesn’t seem that strange after all. Still, I missed the class, I really did, I missed 6J a lot, but today just wasn’t what I was looking for. No surprise then, that I would rather have been cooped up in the TSD room, where I could truly be free.

It’s over now, and I will never again get to play the father who feeds his sick and delusional 5 year old daughter lies, false hope, and her favourite chocolate chip muffins, because “if you don’t eat, the medicine won’t work”. I will never again kneel behind a canvas screen and writhe my hands knowing that in the red light, the shadow that I cast will appear to be one of the billions in hell seeking salvation. Perhaps, I might also never sit at the windy benches and attempt to fashion a miniature golf club and cricket bat out of cheap clay, or paint the finishing spots on a puppet Jaguar. And the next time I attempt to steal cookies from the examiner’s cookie jar, will probably be next year. When I will be the one being judged and being scrutinized, hoping that he doesn’t figure out that the reason why he doesn’t get to enjoy the little bits of heaven, is because I did.

Maybe I am overreacting, but it is difficult to imagine another time where everybody will rehearse, make mini sets, sew clothes, paint, basically rush last minute preparations again. It is difficult to imagine another time such as this, where I am in school, and yet, not in school.

Tomorrow, I have Civics, Chem lecture, Math tutorial, and PW.

And then, I have TSD.

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i sometimes wish i'd never been born at all

NO MORE.
I WILL LIVE LIFE MY OWN WAY.
AND I DONT NEED ANYONE TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO.

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and right now, right at this moment,

I do.
You're goddamn right,
I do. So fucking much.
And it is terrible to feel like that, terribly satisfying.

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the meaning of life is that it ends

I SWEAR.
I WILL FIGHT.
I WILL NOT GIVE UP.
I WIL GRIN AND BEAR IT.
I WILL PUSH HARDER AND HARDER.
I WILL NOT FALL.
I WILL GET UP.
I WILL THROW MYSELF IN AGAIN.
AND I WILL WIN.
I WILL DO ANYTHING TO WIN.
I WILL NOT WEEP.
I AM BROTHER BEAR.
I AM A RHINOCEROS GOD I HOPE I SPELT THAT CORRECTLY SEE I CAN BE FUNNY TOO.
I AM KUNGFU PANDA.
BRING IT ON, BITCHES.
HAHAHAHHAHA.

I will ignore the voices in my head.
There are no voices in my head.

What am I, insane?

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I am not dying.
But I am losing my life, and my mind, slowly.
I am losing me.
That, is different.

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maybe I'm the bad guy

I wanted to blog tonight, like about the people who i've seen in school and basically my mugging exploits and escapades, but i decided to wait and see whether tomorrow's session is productive or not (:




this, however was a beautiful, stormy start to a day of studying in school.

and this was a really pretty end.
prettyprettypretty.

now my eyes hurt, but i'm too afraid to ask for you.

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nothing but the truth

I feel alot more quiet and contemplative nowadays.

You were lying, and I could hear it in your voice. it's a lie, i told myself, it must be.

or maybe i just dont dare to believe you anymore.

but she's right, friends count for something too.

I don't need you.

or at least, that's something i'd like to believe in.

the people who matter to me now are the people whom I can talk to, and who make me happy.

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falling apart

barely holding myself together and i'm scared, but you have everything.

i'm scared.

but
you have
everything.

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I am alone with the things I have done.

I tried, you know. I really did. I tried and I tried to sort myself out and sort us out, sort everything out. But I get tired too. I get tired of feeling like trash, and being treated like trash. I get tired of crawling into empty corners of my own imagination, wondering if we’ll ever get going, swearing that if things ever took a turn for a better, then I’d change too. Nothing really worked out though, and alternating between trying and waiting, sometimes doing both at the same time just didn’t seem to cut it. So I was left to grovel, and beg, and I was left feeling like a ravenous puppy scrambling over scraps of your leftover attention. It wasn’t enough, of course. Leftovers are never enough.

There’s no point pretending that it didn’t hurt, no point saying that at some point I felt so happy that the hurt didn’t matter, because it did. It did matter. And I keep the scars as trophies of my loss, so I’ll never forget how it felt like to want to die. This dull pain. What is this dull pain? I don’t know. All I know is that I was trapped, alone, do not deny me this, yes alone. Fumbling in the darkness, I felt everything I once held dear slip through my fingers so, so quickly, too fast for me. Helpless, homeless, broken and beaten, and at the end of it all, I gasped for breath though no air would come, and collapsed. It is terrible to feel like you have nothing, absolutely nothing, terrible to feel blind, and deaf, and to have to be blind and deaf, if only because it numbs the pain. What you can’t see can’t hurt you. What you won’t hear won’t kill you.

To be abandoned and alone, left with only your fingers to gnaw on. To be abandoned and alone, left with only your own, despairing soul for company. Do you know what that feels like?

I wish it could be different. You know, sometimes I dream of happy endings.

They always end with you smiling.

Why do they have to end?

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