what started off as a genuine interest to pen down a day's happenings and random thoughts ended up, seven years later, as an outlet to inform, to rant, to (perhaps, sometimes) show off, to get all emonemowemo-y. i don't think there's anything wrong with blogging, all bloggers must have their own personal (sometimes even monetary) motivations to blog. it's sad however that i gradually lost my personal motivation to blog in the seven years after the birth of isshoni. this place has served me well for seven years and saw me through the days of my teenage angst, post-teenage angst, and the happy moments and ultimately the failings of my past relationships with youknowwho and youknowwho. yet the seven years have also brought me undesired readership that i have no control over.

clearly, it's time to move on to greener pastures (:

一緒にいたいと　はじめて想った

nus is a fucking bitch. i will not go into lengthy details about how screwed up they are or why they are, it's just too much of a trouble and it infringes on my private affairs anyway (god knows why the hell i blog if i'm so concerned about privacy issues). the fact that piggy peggy has to come down to school with me tomorrow (not like i'm going to drag her down lah but she dutiful and loving what) is enough evidence that at 21 years old, coming to 22 may i add, the university doesn't trust us as adults. the university fucking always claim that they do, but no in actual fact, they just wanna pretend that they do but when you fuck things over in school, they do not give you the due respect you deserve as an adult and the treatment that you fucking deserve and PAID FOR (hello world-class institution hello). nus is a trueblue representation of how the real world in singapore is like - unforgiving, unsympathetic, ASSUMING, mistrustful, RIGID, and full of fuckers waiting to see you fail coupled with the occasional bunch of cheehongkias who just want a piece of you while coming up with the excuse of "let's go study together". RAWR. education should be free. and no way am i running away to aussieland, siao.

Together they had overcome the daily incomprehension, the instantaneous hatred, the reciprocal nastiness, and fabulous flashes of glory in the conjugal conspiracy. It was time when they both loved each other best, without hurry or excess, when both were most conscious of and grateful for their incredible victories over adversity. Life would still present them with other moral trials, of course, but that no longer mattered: they were on the other shore.
-From Gabriel Garia Marquez's Love in the Time of Cholera





I rediscovered my love for reading again. Picking up reading again is an indication that I'm no longer afraid of stumbling upon the black wave of melancholy.

paralyzed by the surreality of change in events, demoralized and depressed by my lack of competency to formulate coherent arguments, i have decided to take the convenient way out of this system characterized by crazy deadlines, ridiculously hard essay questions that it's like asking a primary one kid to do algebra. the lines that demarcate "day" and "night" have blurred. what's the difference between 2am or 6am, or 2pm and 6pm? one thing's for sure: the sun still sets at 6pm-ish, 7pm, and the sun still rises at 6am-ish. and at the sight of dawn breaking, i turn in, giving up my body soul and mind to rest, as if it's some reassurance that i've just survived another day unscathed by the fucking system.

sorry mum & dad, and to anybody else who thought i could do it, i'm not your average NUS student, it would kill me to compromise my standards to conform, to fit the system. i will never hand in substandard work. and i had enough of torturing myself with these unproductive nights and all futile attempts to free up this lump of mush they called a "brain". i'm hell bent on taking off to better myself intellectually so that i can beat the system the next time round.

i slack not because i dont want to do any work, but because i don't know how to do my work.

What drives you on
Can drive you mad
A million lies to sell yourself
Is all you ever had

Don't believe in love
Don't believe in hate
Don't believe in anything
That you can't waste

You stupid girl
You stupid girl
Can't believe you fake it
Can't believe you fake it


Thought I'm good at reading people. You proved me wrong, you stupid girl.

Credits to Jon for putting this up on his blog months ago (why don't you update no more?!).

Warning: Highly sensitive material ahead, not for homophobics.

japheth says: (6:14:43 PM)
i shall take a break now
japheth says: (6:14:45 PM)
and fold my clothes
japheth says: (6:15:04 PM)
i'm so husband material
japheth says: (6:15:07 PM)
rahahhahahaha
japheth says: (6:15:31 PM)
how many guys u know fold and pack their clothes
japheth says: (6:15:34 PM)
how many?
japheth says: (6:15:42 PM)
how many guys u know bother to do their laundry properly
japheth says: (6:15:58 PM)
how many guys u know are independent enough to take care of themselves properly outside of army

(minutes later)

japheth says: (6:44:13 PM)
how many guys u know go down on their knees to mop their floor and fold the gf's panties
japheth says: (6:44:26 PM)
i sound like some fucking wuss saying that lah
japheth says: (6:44:35 PM)
stupid idiot
japheth says: (6:44:41 PM)
make me do all the house hold shit


HAHAHAHAHAHAHA AWWWWW.
Stupid fuck, I also don't know how many guys will do that. But the fact that you do is good enough (:

I fell down on my butt while on the way to the Human Rights lecture. I lost my footing, slipped and landed on my bum, and went BOOM BOOM BOOM down the stairs... all the while on my butt.

Thankfully, the tailbone is very much intact and I can still walk, much credit goes to my fat ass. Not-so-thankfully, now I can't seem to get down to doing any work because all I want to do is roll around in bed and (think of somebody) and whine.

Sigh, epic fail me.

31st December 2005 till April 2008 marked the most chaotic, emotional and fucked up period of my life. Part-time soapbox drama queens and kings, best friends with Hedonism, we indulged in self-gratification to make up for the lack of love. Too many a time, we have chugged down whiskey, vodka, scotch, tequila and so much more, concocted in the various permutations and combinations possibly imaginable. Too many a time, we have surrendered to the music, consenting it to possess our already gyrating bodies. We started the night out to satisfy our needs, and ended the night feeling as empty and ridiculous as before. On better days, we pledged our everlasting loyalty as Best Friends to each other over the booze, over "Be Faithful" and "LoveStoned", and over those fuckers who were also clubbing but not with who they should be with. Going home with the knowledge and assurance that best friends will always be there was the most we could ever get out of clubbing. But I wanted more.

So I slipped. Again. And Again. Yet I refused to admit I was wrong. Conjuring up defensive excuses then passing them off as justified reasons was a skill of mine, and almost a profession. So good at it I had myself convinced that there was room for sympathy. Guilt consumed me from time to time, and the inner self-righteous bitch would go dormant long enough for me to be apologetic but never long enough for me to want to change my understanding of why things happened and how things happened. The choice to appear ignorant was fueled by the reluctance to confess that it was all not good enough for greedy me.

September 2008. You came along, and take me the way I was and the way I am today. Because you held my hand and taught me how to face up to my past, you make me want to be better.

And for the first time, I can say with much conviction: I am more than contented with the way you are too (:

it's been a trying month so far, academically speaking, and i'm nowhere near accomplished.
to give up or to die trying?
giving up seems like the smarter option even though it's not typically my style.


nothing can save my soul except for Guitar Heroes now. will drop dead by this weekend if the week doesnt get any less tough than it already was when it begun. should have known: ominous start to a bad week, damn.

For the past 3 weeks or so I've been shuttling in between home and Sheares. I even got my own drawer in J aka Stupid Fuck's room now!

(be warned! lovey dovey pictures ahead)
( My Second Home )

Head hung low, the refusal to meet eyes, and then the slight trembling which accompanied the tears that came flowing in mere microseconds. The scene was all too familiar, the person involved though wasn't the same; it was nothing new yet nothing like before. He was different, to say the very least, hell no, he is Different and Special, and she had known it since Day One.

What she hadn't known is her power over him.

my most recent google search keywords include:
"abolish isa"
"singapore free press"
"international pressure" singapore "free press"
"chee soon juan" "abolish isa"
"singapore democratic party" (i found the SDP official website and took a look at it and i even clicked on "Join Us"! omg what guts!)
amendment "newspaper printing presses act" singapore
"amnesty international"


i is very scared that somebody will charge through my door and handcuff me and take me away to changi chalet.


(this totally reminds me of Orwell's 1984 and Alan Moore'sV for Vendetta)

okay i'm finally irritated with myself.

i really really REALLY REALLY want to start on my readings, kop lecture notes from neubs, get down to penning a letter to Helene and Daphne and Aaron, reply Aless' email (in French nevertheless, wah lao!), AND ROCK CLIMB. I REALLY WANT TO FUCKING SCALE SOME WALLS. I DON'T CARE IF I CAN CLIMB FOR A FACT OR NOT, I JUST WANT TO TOUCH SOME ROCKS, OR ROLL AROUND ON THE MATTRESSES IN THE NUS CLIMBING GYM PRETENDING I'M A BABY CUB AT LEAST. I WANT TO GO TO NOVENA CHURCH AND HERMIT AT ONE KORNER OR STONE AT THE PEWS, FEELING LIKE A BIG LOSER AND THANKING GOD THAT SOMEBODY LIKE ME HASN'T BEEN SHOT DEAD YET. AND I WANT TO STAY IN BED ALL DAY LONG CATCHING UP ON THE PAST FEW EPISODES OF GOSSIP GIRL ON MY LAPTOP.


i just want this humongous mountain of work to disappear (next thursday, next thursday!)

(it reads: Happy 1st Month! Hahaha.. very secondary school right? Finish your essays! <3 Japheth)

One month oredi, sho fast worx~
(I'm the secondary school lian, he's the secondary school beng. Together, we is a match made in HeAveNz.)



So what if the muffins are making a comeback and my skin ain't blemish-free no more? (attributed by the irregular sleeping patterns and meal times and the lack of cardio, rawr!)

Doesn't matter all that much that I'm 50kg now and I got zits because...

...MY HAIR IS STILL CHIO! And will remain that way thanks to L'Occitane. I've got Japheth (((:





P.S. Yet another reason to be jolly: I EARNED $14.55 FROM SOME RANDOM BEHAVIORAL STUDY EXPERIMENT TODAY! Hahaha cheap thrill (:

I am starting to forget the good times we shared. The less than rosy times, though, are fresh in my head. It makes me wonder if I had really known you all along during for the two formative years we were together.

The strangest thing: two years of dishing out good words in your defence have all come down to nought and in barely a week, the defensive and protective statements I was once all too eager to offer are now replaced by an endless tirade of insults and complaints.

A friend said one should never get chummy with an ex, and I don't plan on hating but, staying as BFFs? Hah you gotta be fooling me.