A Tan

Part two of my picture-cut-out-poems.

( poetic injustice part two )

In other news, I'm feeling rather snarky as of late. So if you get caught in my barbs, here's the obligatory apology. Though sometimes I'm not really apologetic.

I feel like shit.

Clogged, stuffed, there's a bear twirling above my head;
I heave, I hurl into wads of tis
sue paper for the sceptic feelings I have.
What's more than a phelgmy concoction of black and
brown, sweet to the tongue but wreaks ha
voc on your mi
nd I wish I could kill this
with a hatchet.
I wish I could kill me with
a bow. And arrow.
(We cannot forget that arrow.)

For 10 minutes is all you have, and all I have to
fall into a unicorn horn and to play with its
strands of golden dust light
to caress the knobs of old bones (old dreams)
to make believe that everything is okay
and that the hatchet is blunt
and will make me live a nother day.


It doesn't help that I feel taken for granted. Note how I don't say I "think" I'm taken for granted. I know so. Friendship is a two-way thing and if you're reading this somewhere in your comfortable nook and cranny of Singapore or at the End of the World, just remember this - I am tolerant. I have swam just underneath the surface for fear of making waves. But I am not abhorrent to creating a tsunami that will sweep away everything that we once held dear. I'm at the end of my tether, holding the last straw, and all those lovely cliches that we love to use on ourselves and on others.

Yet for all these barbs I put up on my fence, I only know that I will take them down when you come to me again, because I'm like that. I'm easily satisfied but not so. I demand a lot, but not so.

What I want, my dear friend, is to treated like a person - and not some old teddy bear that is only pulled up when your shiny new toy isn't around to entertain you.

God, the cough syrup is making me talk crazy talk.

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if you wish to be close to me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to percieve in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

--E.E. Cummings

This is one of my all time favourite poems. Especially now.

Le mort poete says:
aiyar male lingo but u get my drift rite?
Computer, did we bring batteries? Computer? says:
i can imagine what sort of poetry you'll write next time
Le mort poete says:
d h lawrence novels man
Computer, did we bring batteries? Computer? says:
bang. girl. on the wall.
blood everywhere. on the
sheets, everywhere.

Hahaha, I found this particularly amusing. e.e. cummings anyone?

I admit defeat! I succumbed to the lure of 15 userpics (we all know what I'm asking my mum for my birthday - LJ paid account like woah) and now my LJ is marred with advertisments. Oh well, we all knew what a sell-out I was anyway. ;D

So I updated the layout to its green gorgeousity - by peoplemachines, go check them out - and furnished all 15 spaces with Ouran goodness (with my lone Eyeshield 21 icon being pimped here). Ouran has the best facial expressions for all occassions and cowgirl_ed763 does a great job and capturing them. :D

( Rainer Maria Rilke and my favourite Elegy )

Good God, to write like that! Rilke so far has been the only person to convince me to learn German - which I shall, after I master Japanese - so that I can bask myself in all his sublime glory.

I haven't written anything in ages. I think I should continue that botched short-story I was working on, for the sake of completing it and seeing how it fares.

LOL'D. My brother's asking me for help with his science homework. Alright MOE, I'll show you what your education does for me! Let's see if I vaguely remember anything from 2 years ago. So okay, I'm still a whizz at Sec 3 Physics (hello Newton's Law!), but he then pointed me to his Acids, Bases and Salts notes for Chem and I just went "Oh fuck".

I'm horrible at Chemistry because I can't make head or tail out of mole equations and I understand the significance of most chemical reactions other than "oooh pretty!" so hahaha, I still do retain some basic knowledge which just needs to be triggered off but as for now, I need to do more research for my brother so as to help him. God, he needs a tutor. Though, it's strangely carthartic to do all these extinct subjects (relative to me, of course) and still be able to do the vast majority of them. Ah, if only I was with so much enthusiasm towards the sciences when I was in secondary school.

HAHAH. I asked him "What happened to the set of notes I gave you?" I'm extremely proud of my Chem notes. :D He told me that he couldn't understand them becauset they were too cheem (English cannot express the real meaning of the word sufficely; but it's roughly translated to 'profound'). So he lent them to his friends taking Pure Chemistry. BTW, my brother's doing Combined Physics and Chem (lucky bastard, he's acing his science now).

So anyway, anyone still remembers the basic stuff for the chapter on Acids + Bases + Salts? Tons of cyber cookies - real treats if I can meet you in real-time/life - if you can help me out!

Hey yo all the hikkomori out there! Give your first kiss to this hot young girl! Hahahaha, I wish they'd come up with one for girls. ;D

So anyway, I was supposed to bring my childhood photos to school and I thought, since I couldn't be at school these past few days, let's have a montage of my evolution. SOSHIMON GO!

( EVOLUTIONARY STAGES 1-283923 )

zomg. My true inner self has been revealed! Egads!

EDIT @ 2:29am
( geh! sketches here )

>__<

I HAVE FORGOTTEN EVERYTHING ABOUT CONTAINMENT!

Nic Kwok just called me to ask me about the 1942 Iran conflict and I was like "whuuuuuuuh?"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaH. I am forgottenhave forgotten my J1 work. nonononononononononono.

As well as my basic grammar. :\

In other news, I've learnt how to play I Will Survive (The Cake version)which coincidentally is the theme song for the moment, Wonderwall by Oasis and U2's One on the guitar. Come school reopens, we shall have a massive classroom jam session with our two acoustic guitars. Maybe 'slike Desmond and I will bring our amps and electrics and go mad one day. :D

Okay.

So studying takes on a new form of competition and STRESS in Singapore. :\ As of now, the most popular question is, "Have you studied?"

Any self-respecting student would have at least touched their notes for a second or two, so whenever you hear someone go: "No I haven't."

You know they're lying. With their pants on.

And half the time you hear people like me hahahaha moan and groan about how they're going to fail - they're not. They're just going to do badly enough.

The other half really do fail - because while they studied, one or two seconds out of the gajillion hours you get those stereotypical top students doing, doesn't really cut it.

While this isn't the dog-eat-dog world yet, it's more like a Penguin eating Puffins, if you know what I'm getting at.

EDIT:
Kyaaa. This is extremely cute.

At first (and still!) I was oh so petrified
I didn't think that I could leave without you by my side
I spent oh so many nights and with that cuppa coffee
And now you're not there,
You're not there to follow me!

I will survive! I will survive!
I will kick History's ass and behind!
Keyne shall grovel in despair
I shall pull at Atwood's hair
And I will survive! I will suuuuuuuuurvive~~~.

EDIT:
Wowsa. I'm sitting here at my desk reading my essays (history test scripts, literature assignments, the works) and I'm going "shit, I wrote that?!"

I don't mean to sound - I don't know, ostentatious - but sometimes I think I'm posessed by some other being whenever I hold the pen. I can't even imagine or remember myself doing some of these test scripts. It's like... really

THE EXORCISM CANNOT TAKE PLACE YOU HEAR ME.

Actually, I don't know if this is poem, or just really flowery prose. :D()

Cannibal Lover
And while I want you, hunger for
You, wish that I could marinate
You in sesame oil and coriander.

Gleefully bake that luscious body of
Yours in my smoldering oven of a heart. Then ping,
You are Done. Finished.
Perfection of a Creation from some immaculate being.

I dress
You in mint, hint of chocolate sprinkles and dig in.
Smoothness, I take you in.
Your hands, just the right tenderness;
Your face is flawless, no uneveness of texture.

Ah, the prized cranium.
While I imagine,
You struggling under a table, drugged
with morphine,
Your shaved glorious head exposed for all the
World to see and I will ea-

That aside, I leave nothing.
I consume you wholly.

This, ladies and gentlemen is the best poem I've seen this year.

XD

Birthday dinner celebrations coming up. Wonder if my class remembers at all I've yet to contact GMUFC for anything, I should though. Next Friday's dinner with bandits (haha) is most likely confirmed and on plus! darling Ketsu has volunteered to do the reservation booking! OMG lah, the silly boy's so sweet. Haha.

:\ In other news, I stuffed myself with gyoza and this fried onion thing. Yes, I'm trying to forget about the looming proficiency test. I was never proficient in anything anyway. (I KNOW THAT ANONYMOUS COMMENTER WILL HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY ABOUT THIS. Like oh how my ego is so small and chin-up.) ;\ I'd also like to add about how Sublime's performance is making the most unlikely people, namely me and Yen, promote CLUBBING. HAHAA.

My mother thinks its amusing that I'm going out for a proper dinner with guys and is more excited than me. wtf I know. She's ranting on about how I should wear skirts and that she wants to buy a frilly-blouse for me.

omfgwthbbq?! nuh-uh!

This is like victorian doll-house gone wrong!

I'll alway lose out to people under umbrella-terms, to people stitched with labels. Who's going to be with a dormant volcano like me? Insecure? Bah, that's just an excuse. Go on, you pppretty pppeople who complain that they're not skinny enough, or pretty enough or Oh-You're-A-Girl-So-You're-Nice-Comments-Don't-Count, or the I'll-Never-Get-Marrieds because they have perfect skin and the perfect smile and did I mention that they have the perfect body but they still don't get enough of it? They need me, the rather insufficiently shapely (round! is still a shape!!) me to assure them that oh, you're still so beautiful.

:D Way to go world. In terms of Survivor? The tribe has spoken, I have lost out in that arena.

Sad but true. Blatant THE TRANSPLANTS promo.

But where else can I or will I win? Chopsticks Girl doesn't give up that easily. Afterall, we know that succesful people (in the end) aren't those beautiful bimbos people who get under my skin (don't let them get under your skin! you say).

Bill Gates? Oh, billionaire. Married. Billionaire? Rivals with

Steve Jobs? Oh, another mil-bil-tri-llionaire. Excellent marketing skills if I might say so. Succeeded in brainwashing people all over the world.

Donald Trump? Now that toupeehairstyle of his is not really topnotch but hey he's a successful businessman.

Tony Tan? Oh hey I look like him! ;D

Even if I don't win in this patriachal society, I'll definitely be the next-in-line. Why? I don't know why exactly but if my egotistical self may emerge for a few seconds, we all know that guys like people who can relate to them. Which is why I won't get them, but just get them in that other way.

So I will come out tops in the end. :D Yeah yeah self-consolation. Let's just keep our diamonds and guns to ourselves shall we?

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I've been slacking leh, these past few weeks. I feel like a, like a CAUCASIAN!!! GASP!!! (Haha, no I wasn't trying to be overtly racist ;p)

Yah, anyway, time to get down to business. December is coming soon and I better at least brainwash the teachers into thinking that I'm some hardworking geek even though I don't produce results. So at the end of the year they'll pour on the sugar as they always do. 'Alicia is a hardworking and conscientious student!' and whatnots. :) Testimonials like that are lovely from the higher-ups. After I graduate, there's a wonderful temp job waiting for me. I've got it all planned out.

EDIT:

Mum suggested walking down to an... old friend's house after dinner. Why the awkward pause? Well, I was great friends with the said boy until 6 or 7 years old I had a falling out with him. I always find it awkward. Worse still is that his father might be my future boss in what, hopefully when I graduate from university?

Sigh.

To have PChua tell you that your speech and its delivery were good, is one breath of relief that I could not do without. Then to have a number of classmates come up to me and tell me that I did a good job, wow. My OP should go fine now, that's one thing for sure. Thanks guys for somehow believing that I really did a good job. Honestly, I had no idea what I was talking about.

Meeting Benjamin at around 5pm to pass him his report card before going down to the post office.

Anyway, while I was sleeping during the Lit tutorial I suddenly heard my name being called. Apparently PChua was praising my reading habits and the fact that I was broadening my range of reading (she saw my Nietzsche book). Burst of ego there.

I like discussing things with her. Yesterday we talked about which was a better show of language ability, D.H Lawrence's style or Hemmingway's minimalist style. I went for the minimalist. To say so much with that number of words, and the simplicity of it all takes skill and a good grasp of the English language, in my honest opinion. Of course you can't deny that Lawrence's style is hard to beat. I tend to write like him, with all the FLOWERY ADJECTIVES and WOAH!!! type of effects. I was weaned of adjective-laced writing I suppose.

Tomorrow's the last day of school. It's a sort of bipolar thing, the fact that we'll be having a 'fun-filled' break and yet won't be seeing some friends for the next year.

and i won't be seeing you for God knows how long

I missed my chance today. Call it a twist of cruel fate, I guess. Like how I saw you on the bus, a sense of deja vu, and we quarrelled. Just a dream I know, but it was enough for someone who hasn't seen you for I don't know, forty days and forty nights?

It's like a hit and miss
butterfly touches
chances of fate.
When will we meet
across the milky way,
the cliched magpie bridge
awaits us.

Talking to Manda and Yen always makes me feel better in more ways than one. It's gratifying, relieving and just metaphorically like good ol' chicken soup.