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I feel like a piece of shit now. No, its not because its friday and I'm too tired to go out. No, not because even if we went to the beach it'd be raining. No....not because the break is coming and I gotta do projects. No, not because I have offended my brother once again while I was in the process of being me. No. I dunno what it is.

Just.

No, I'm not pms-ing either. Ah...could it be because I've been trying for days to d/l Joss Stone's Spoiled and every single version I d/l-ed couldnt be played? Could it be?
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"My conclusion after my brief contemplation is that vibes are worth nothing except for the temporary feel-good sensation. Why? Because once the vibes end, you are left wondering if it happened for a reason, or if something really did happen at all. In other words, it felt as if you had something going on, but you wonder: Was something really going on? And why?"

Vibes. ha. That was from Hirman's blog. I love him sometimes. He's the only one that makes sense. Makes me so ashamed of being how I am that I'm inspired to be a better person. You should read him. Not that ur not a good person or anything....

You're sending all the wrong vibes.

I have this theory that if one's entry doesnt evoke any emotions that are worth evoking, one shouldnt write at all. In other words, you shouldnt have to read sth that makes u feel nothing, and instead leaves u somewhat empty....

My fren tells me I write multi-dimensionally. Whatever that means. It's as though I seek to confuse. Thats all I aim to do. I love you confused. I love you empty.

This book I am still reading(I like to take my time)...Book of Evidence. Its getting shitty. He just killed this gurl with a hammer. He marvels at how the hammer doesnt make a strong hard thud when it hit someone's head. He wonders why the sound is soft. He wonders why the blood looks the way it does on the window pane...he wonders how he did what he did. Man...nowadays I don't see the point anymore. Why do I have to read these things that makes me feel......I don't even know what I feel.

When I was 16 I read the book Being Happy by Andrew Matthews. I remember coz he came to our school and did his illustrations on the spot. He was great. I applied what he said for a year I guess. I was super happy. The point is....I read the book again almost every year. And it still makes sense ofcoz. The only problem is I need to read it as though its the first time I'm reading it, otherwise it doesnt work.

BTW. AdeL will so cringe at this but Siwen told me she like reading my blog. I believe her ofcoz. =) Thanks babe. That kinda made my day.

I welcome you.
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"It links...the story. The extremities of the products of society. You have to seek a balance. The way you perceive the world directly affects your actions. What you do, how you feel, how you think. What you want out of this world. It's sad, the way Tom Cruise died. But there wasnt any other way I guess. He wasnt worthy of the world...."

I was just reading my Movie Diary last night. I wrote that piece of crap. Don't you ,no, Did you ever re-read sth you wrote previously and wonder how you could reach that conclusion and how you could actually be in that frame of mind? How can I possibly have so much thoughts after one 2 hour movie? How wonderful is that? Only the wonderful thing isnt me but the movie. You probably wont know what I'm sayin if you din watch Collateral.

I guess I needed to remind myself that I do know things. I know....that how I perceived the world reflects on my actions....and then it gets reflected on the results. . .

Okay. great. you feel slightly empty now? No? I still feel like a POS. I am gonna take a doze of that jogging.

-9pm-
Its funny how when u're in a state of delirium, you find yourself wanting to express your love to everyone and everything. For me I reach that state ocassionally after overcoming that huge wall of inertia that greets me ever so lightly after every 3km of jogging. It has been that way since ... since ... since when I was in hall. And today I kinda overcame that with the help of some cool dude jogging like he's riding on the wind. I had to tail behind him. =P So I let the sweat take over me. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Maybe its really only possible to love sb when you love urself. When ur happy...

I'm suddenly excited abt everything. The 9 pm show, the FYP meeting tmr, the date with Mich, the steamboat gathering with my sec sch frens, church on sunday, meeting for project on tuesday, exhibition with Jo on wed....I dunno how it does it. Jogging.

O. Mich wants to get a tatoo to celebrate her new lease of life. I wonder if I'd ever get one. Think I might, if I fall in love with the design and HAD to own it. Or. I happen to design sth awesome one fine day. But where will it be? Ankle? No. Too painful. Back of my neck? No. Too obvious when hair is tied. Could ruin my professional image. Hip bone? Wait. Do I have a hip bone?

Its funny how we do things like this to get that re-borned feeling. That new lease of life. AdeL tells me to do my hair so that I'd be happier. Its true ofcoz. I know. But its sick and deeply crooked if you think abt it. To need to do sth externally to make self feel good suddenly. Only shows how very warped our attainment of happiness is.

ANyway. Before I forget, I just wanna thank God for allowin me to be chubby. Allowing. Its a privilege really. If I weren't I'd probably not jog as often as I do. If I werent I'd probably not be as cute as I am.
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My bro asked me the meaning of irony during the first day of chinese new year. We were on the train... he was standing as far away from my mum as he could so that she won't scream his name when she spot any empty seats. Its embarassing. I should know.

Irony. Suddenly I din know how to explain it to him. Everything is ironic. The fact that we have to get away from our mum when we originated straight from her womb. The fact that she sacrificed so much for the family and yet we can't tell her we love it. The fact that his volleyball coach who could run 10km without effort died of cancer at 56...

I asked him to go listen to the song by Alanis Morissette.

An old man turned ninety-eight
He won the lottery and died the next day
It's a black fly in your Chardonnay
It's a death row pardon two minutes too late
And isn't it ironic...dontcha think