| (no subject) |
[Apr. 18th, 2011|02:54 am] |
|
i know i haven't been the happiest, most positive person to be around, but thanks for always being calm and patient when i'm being the usual worrywart that i am; for being tolerant even though i try to pick a fight with you over nothing every month, just 'cause of pms; for picking me up and sending me home all the time (i really appreciate it); for believing in me whenever i felt small; and for planning such a great birthday for me. it was perfect. 5 more weeks of class and you can join me on the other side.. aussieland awaits! |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Apr. 5th, 2011|04:28 pm] |
|
i just want to be happy |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Mar. 10th, 2011|06:11 pm] |
I think love is a useless word for descriptions these days. Love binds and pulls and tugs and shatters, breaks and stirs and murders and revives, all at once. Love is a word turned into a full stop in teenagers’ conversations, peppered all over to spice a bowl of bland sentence soup. Love is an excuse for not loving. Love is an inspiration for the most handsome things in the world. Love is a justification for the ugliest things in the world. Love is indefinable, yet has its place in every single dictionary, in probably every single language.
And I won’t be hypocritical; I’m one of these people who exploit the word like breaths of air. It’s almost like a hello and goodbye in every conversation. It’s a “hey Tim, bye Tim, I love you Tim.” kind of thing. Its things you say drunkenly to strangers, or things you say to people you don’t really care about at all. Yet you can wake up one morning, to the most beautiful face you know, and know that this was the one, this was the one for sure, this was the one that makes your heart want to describe colours that don’t exist and the one that makes you want to stop time as you kiss and you lose your head into a blind space.
And all you could offer is the same “I love you” you praised your mom as she packed you pbnj sandwiches for lunch.
I could say I loved you, and be right and wrong all at once. I could say I loved you, and then squeeze in a “but”, but that would be like drawing a bold line in permanent marker across a Mona Lisa painted in gold with rubies and diamonds embedded in the details. I could say I love you. I could mouth it. Write it down. Paint it on paper and etch it on trees. But no. I don’t love you. I will never say it and mean it.
I will show you.
-- Nova Halle |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Feb. 28th, 2011|01:08 am] |
so after a not too exciting mambo and massive poop fest, sam invited me over for a gaming night. no prizes for guessing who emerged as the winner! duh, it's me.
 |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Feb. 12th, 2011|01:15 am] |
醒来只有我一个人
分不清黄昏或清晨
空气微冷有甚么在流失慢慢降温
一颗心往下沉
毕竟只是太短的梦
彼此终于退回陌生
我加上你两个人却不等于我们
你想我吗会偶尔想我吗
是这样吗飞扬的会落下
你爱我吗如果诚实回答
可是爱也不是解答
空屋子里没有回声
但我记忆有你指纹
我加上你两个人却不等于我们
你想我吗会偶尔想我吗
是这样吗飞扬的会落下
你爱我吗如果诚实回答
可是爱也让人疲乏
你知道吗我心快要溶化
是这样吗压抑的会爆发
你爱我吗爱我就懂我吗
告诉我善意的谎话
告诉我善意的谎话
好让我相信我不是太傻 |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 28th, 2011|01:38 am] |
i miss batam, incredibly. i miss the peace and quiet, without having anything to worry about. i miss the sambal stingray. i miss everything about our week 3 getaway; the conversations, food, having the whole place to ourselves and everything imperfect and perfect. life should be so simple.
 |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 25th, 2011|09:03 pm] |
People die ..so love them everday.
Beauty fades.. so look before its gone.
Love changes.. but not the love you give.
And if you love, you’ll never be alone. |
|
|
| You |
[Jan. 9th, 2011|09:00 pm] |
Pulling out my wallet, I saw the picture that was left there since my world came to an end. I pulled out the picture, and gave it to him. "Keep this for me, will you?" He looked at the picture. "He was wonderful for you, wasn't he?"
"He was very good to me."
"And you'll always love him more than me, won't you?"
I thought about it sometime before, knowing it was a matter of time that he asked.
"Look at the sunset - isn't it beautiful?"
He shrugged, keeping the picture away. " It's okay if you don't want to answer. I shouldn't have asked."
"I'm not avoiding your question. Which of all the sunsets you've ever seen do you love the most?"
"The first one?" He said, anticipating the worst.
"I don't think so.. Every time we see a sunset, our appreciation is built on the ones we've already experienced. The older I get, the more amazed I am that a miracle like a sunset still exists. And that's the way I feel about how I feel for you."
-Sam by Jack Wayland |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jan. 9th, 2011|07:06 pm] |
"Do you really like me?" Izumi asked me in a small voice.
"Of course I do," I replied. "Of course I like you."
Lips pursed, she looked at me straight into my face. She looked at me such a long time it made me uneasy.
"I like you too, you know," she said after a while.
But, I thought.
"But," she said, sure enough, "there's no need to rush."
I nodded.
"Don't be too impatient. I have my own pace. I'm not that clever a person. I need lots of time to prepare for things. Can you wait?"
Once again, I nodded silently.
"Promise?" she asked.
"I promise."
"You won't hurt me?"
"I won't hurt you."
She looked down at her shoes for a while. Plain black loafers. Compared to mine, lined up next to them, they were as tiny as toys.
"I'm scared," she said. "These days I feel like a snail without a shell."
"I'm scared too," I said. "I feel like a frog without webbed feet."
She looked up and smiled.
Wordlessly we walked over to a shaded part of the building and held each other and kissed, a shell-less snail and a web-less frog. I held her close to me. Our tongues met lightly. I felt her breasts through her blouse. She didn't resist. She just closed her eyes and sighed. Her breasts were small and fitted comfortably in the palm of my hand, as if designed solely for that purpose. She placed her palm above my heart, and the feel of her hand and the beat of my heart became one. She's not Shimamoto, I told myself. She can't give me what Shimamoto gave. But here she is, all mine, trying her best to give me all she can. How could I ever hurt her?
But I didn't understand then. That I could hurt somebody so badly she would never recover. That a person can, just by living, damage another human being beyond repair.
- Murakami, in South of the border, West of the sun |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 29th, 2010|01:00 am] |
|
my bumming has reached a new low. i'm actually watching the bachelorette; each episode's 88 minutes long and i manage about 4-5 episodes in 1 seating. plus all the sitcoms and realities on star world and law and order on universal. holy crap. i miss nyc and canada a lot btw. i've been seeing nat quite a bit so that kinda makes up for it. all my friends are either away or working omg i can't wait for tomorrow, thursday and friday. and saturday! and i am basically in a foul mood right now. i swear there is something wrong with my tummy because IT'S KILLING THE CRAP OUTTA ME... |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Dec. 25th, 2010|07:36 am] |
there is something particularly thrilling and overwhelming when you're sitting in your seat on the plane and waiting for the plane to take off or land. that moment when you feel the plane lift off the runway; that moment when you feel the plane rushing forward, after its wheels first touch the runway. such fleeting moments.
i'm home, nonetheless. no proper countdown since i was on the plane but my family was there with me. complete. there was nothing more i could ask for. you see, being away from home makes you think. this time i was away for the longest we (my family) have been in a while, and even though there were hiccups and small bickers along the way, the family bonding time, when i crawl into bed every night to reminisce and think about what we did over the entire day, can nearly always bring tears to my eyes. especially with my dad. there was always a slight barrier but we could hug and lie on each other's shoulders, just like how things were when i was 7 or 8. seeing how his business is stable and even better now, it eases my mind. there are still rough edges that we have to work out, but i'd say that it was the best 3 weeks i have had in a really long time.
i am a lucky girl. having been away for the first 7 months of 2010, i had a pretty okay first half of my senior year (made bearable by my friends), and i got to have a nice snowy winter holiday with my family. i will always remember 2010. lived in europe, became a senior, forged really great new and old friendships, found old love, found new love and got closer to my family. it was truly a great year. in 2010 i have also really indulged in solitude. i'm reading again! i almost forgot how much i missed lit.
when i got home today, my maid ran out of the house and hugged us tight. she said she really missed us. i also found gifts from my cousins and her sitting in our mailbox. as always, it is christmas in the heart that puts christmas in the air. feels good to be home. :) |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.1){kind=small}
xinyiiiii's journal
