Long-lost love

I find myself getting increasingly interested in hieroglyphs these days.

I think the fascination with Egypt first started when I watched "The Mummy" back in 1999. Of course, being me, I had a crush on the evil bald mummy instead of the bold handsome hero. I was instantly smitten with all things Egyptian; pyramids, deserts, its people, its language, its history. However I was too young and stupid to know that the internet was full of pages of these, and so I spent my days playing Neopets.

Only last year did I buy a book on codes. It was more or less a compilation of all the different codes and ciphers in the history of man, and at the time I was obsessed with the cipher disc, since writing in the only languages I knew (English and Chinese) made all my documents unsafe at home. My folks had a tendency to pry and blow things up, so I was curious as to how to code my thoughts.

I later succeeded in making multiple copies of the cipher disc in my own alphabet, and wrote pages of thoughts in it. I also picked up basic Braille just to know what it felt like to read through touch. Over time, however, my interest in Egypt grew (call me lame) especially when I visited "Egypt" at Universal Studios Singapore. I know it's all for tourists but something about that place was real for me. The sand-stone floors, the dust in the air, the incredible scorching heat that only seemed to affect that portion of the themepark, the angry statues of countless Egyptian gods added to the feel of it all. I felt so happy just being there. Hieroglyphs started appearing in my dreams, and I started taking an interest in Egyptian gods and the temples built in their name.

I think I'll go to Egypt one day and learn about their ancient language. It would be so awesome to spend a year or two there just studying the language, culture and history, of course, where would Egypt be without its mummies?

Speaking of travel, I'll be leaving for Europe in 3 days! First 2 weeks is a tour around Europe, which constitutes Prague, Austria, Germany, Poland, Slovakia and Hungary. Then, we'll be going over to spend another 2 weeks in London, Scotland and Ireland!

You guys have no idea how long I've waited for a break like this. 20 years I've dreamt about going far, far away to distant lands of castles, gardens that stretch beyond what the eye can see, grass on which you can lie without worrying about bugs everywhere, and oh, people with Scottish accents ;)

So, au revoir, mes amis! I'll be back in April, hopefully with a lot more wisdom and thirst for adventure! I'm dying to visit Mozart's and Oscar Wilde's houses!

Give Thanks

I think it's easier to love yourself when you know what you look like on the inside-literally.

It's strange being a Science student, one of biology, especially since I face all the different cells, mechanisms, chemicals, drugs and diseases related to the human body, every day. It's a completely different point of view when I look in the mirror, and when I watch a video of an intubation.

I watched one just the other day and it showed me the different types of stomach ulcers that occur due to different reasons, and immediately, I felt hungry and knew not to deprive my body of the nutrients it needs. I ate more fruit that day, too. It's amazing how every single detail of the human body was so carefully planned out for one to discover. All the intricate details are still being put into books for others to learn about.

One time I was bored at the library and went sniffing around at the veterinary section, and came across a book on cat and dog semestral studies- that is, a book on animal fetuses. I flipped through slowly as it sucked me into its colourful world, full of tiny eyes that have yet to see what life has in store.

I was hooked.

Sometimes I talk to myself. Every blood cell, every warrior in my body, and I thank them for fighting so hard to keep me alive. Every brain cell for working so swiftly to help me make the smallest movements. Every lung cell for going non-stop to sustain me, to make sure I live another day. Every heart cell, for conducting electricity just to produce yet another heart-beat.

I love them, I love myself.
Give thanks.

First Day

Just got through my First Day working at Max Brenner's Chocolate Bar! I'm glad to say it went rather well, although I broke a plate and mug simultaneously- I'll explain later.

I was fearful of being bullied there like I was at my last job at a bookstore, but fortunately, the people at Max Brenner's are much nicer and easier to work with. I hope nobody dislikes me because that would be difficult to deal with! So far my supervisor and manager have been extremely helpful to me, and while the others need a bit of time to warm up to, I think I can manage that.

I met my first nasty rich tai-tai customer! My supervisor handled the disagreement for me. There was, however, this irritating swinging door at the counter. It is a very powerful swinging door, really, and it knocked over the pile of stuff I was helping to clear off a table, amongst them a mug and plate. Damn it. I was doing so well on my first day, too! Luckily my supervisor came to my rescue, told me to take a deep breath, and get back in the flow while he cleaned up. Manager assured me it's rather normal to break things at Max Brenner's, and not to worry.

Loving my new job. Hope it'll be better tomorrow! :)

Evil lies within insanity

The Picture of Dorian Gray

Best of My 2011

-Getting my first pair of glasses
-Taking French 2 under Mr Cédric
-Not failing any papers
-Singing my first solo
-Watching Wicked with V
-Going to USS twice
-Going to Guangzhou with Honey
-Making some great friends

Looking forward to 2012- Dec 21st. Will we die? Stay tuned to find out.

Too bad there's 1st Jan to Dec 20th to live through first.

Happy New Year.

A Harry Potter Dream

I dreamt last night that Professor Snape was my best friend in the present day and we were on holiday with my parents in Malaysia.

They walked around on their own while he and I sneaked into someone else's hotel to go swimming! After that we showered and dried off, and went back to the mall all fresh.

We were looking at the shops when he said he needed the toilet, and when he came back, pulled me aside and whispered that he had accidentally killed someone. We spent the rest of the dream running from authorities, but alas, they caught up with us at the end and took him away. I stood on the steps waving goodbye, one crush less.

Some Enchanted Evening

And night after night, as strange as it seems, the sound of her laughter will sing in your dreams.

What he meant to me

I dreamt of him again last night.

The rule was that I could only bring him back to life just once, for only a day. If I brought him back more than once he wouldn't be in Heaven. So once it was.

He looked the same when he came back home with me, I was fully aware that he had just come back from the dead. His lovely nose nudged my face as he kissed me, his ears twitched in utter delight. He was home.

He spent the day staying by my side, we played chasing games like we used to, and I crawled under tables with him, and cuddled him in a dark room while it poured outside. I wanted it to last forever.

Alas, the day had to end, with me taking him back to the mortuary, and they cast a spell to put him back to rest. I kissed him one last time before I made my exit, remembering all the time he spent with me.

What he meant to me.

The Stage

I don't want flashing lights
and smoke machines;
I don't want skimpy outfits
and hollywood.
I want the glamour of red and gold
and luscious gowns to go.

The world of opera awaits;

The Day I Got A Haircut

This is where I'd like to die.

Mindful of death- Mind full of death

I've always wondered how I might die.

Be it by fire?
Be it by water?
Be it by suffocation?
Be it by exhaustion?
Be it by suicide?
Be it by accident?
Be it when life ends?
Be it at world's end?

Be it painful?
Be it sudden?
Be it slow?
Be it calming?
Be it numbing?

Be it happy?
Be it depressing?
Be it exciting?
Be it boring?

Be it worth waiting for?
You tell me.

Simplicity

There's something incredibly attractive about simplicity.

Some people look so good even dressed in rags, so why can't I? I'll tell you why.
Individual perception has been altered so much by society and its influences. Media, traditions and expectations have moulded us to bear in mind the "reputation" we are expected to maintain. It's so tiring sometimes :(

I've always felt this incredible pressure to look good, for my family, for honey, for my friends, for everyone, to prove something unknown. Picking clothes carefully for half an hour to an hour every day before leaving the house is getting increasingly frustrating. I want the freedom to throw on a huge pullover sweater and shorts, and slip my feet into some sneakers and just go about my day. Comfort. If only I could just throw on my doctor's coat every day and not worry about little petty things like the way I look. It's just that... I'm not a doctor yet.

Is the problem really with me?
Maybe I make it my problem to look good for other people?
I'm tired of that.
No need for flashy clothes, no need for jewellery, no need for many bags to suit different outfits.

It's time for simplicity.

Going solo

I had my solo debut tonight!

Though I wouldn't really call it solo, seeing as I did a duet with my sister, but hey, it's my first time singing for an audience without a choir to hide behind!
I think my teacher thought it would be good to at least have a duet for a first experience, that provided a very, very small sense of security. I almost blacked out before the performance but I pulled through- and did well, too. I was still so high and happy hours after the performance that when I slipped and almost fell on the way home, I couldn't stop grinning to myself!

It was a house full of very, very rich people. Their basement was bigger than my entire house, and I felt utterly, utterly small there, not to mention peniless. However, with a tummyfull of yellow soupy noodles, I had enough energy to carry on, thanks be to God.

It's been the holidays since the exams ended, and I felt pretty good after each one. I might be a teeny bit worried about my Molecular Genetics- my weakest subject this semester, but the others were quite well done, I think. I've been working on DIY projects on my own, cutting up shirts into designs and making tribal feather jewellery, and I'm leaving for Macau and Guangzhou this week for SHOPPING! A very well-deserved shopping trip. I've had a lot riding on my shoulders this semester, and it's finally time to whip out the loose comfy clothes and go mad.

My teacher seemed pretty happy with the way things turned out today, and she says that she'll be getting me more opportunities to sing in front of audiences. One is coming up on the 8th of October, where I will be singing a Chinese coloratura piece. It took me 2-3 years to get here, and somehow I don't want this happy streak to end. It's like I have everything going for me right now and I don't have to make any kind of life-altering decision yet, I can still be both a student of medicine and of music, I wish it will never end.

Please, God, end the world in 2012 so I can die happily this way.

Truth or war?

I used to think that I was living to win a war,
but there is no war.
People only learn through experiences,
and one day I hope to be able to say
"I have".

It is not a war,
just a mere disbelief of truths that are obvious to the world
but disregarded by mankind.

-My Dream Box

Candylicious!

There's something really comforting about being in a candy shop.

Just the other day, Mom's office had a family-day event at Universal Studios, and my god, it was like a fairytale. Just being at Far Far Away made me feel so unbelievably happy, like I wanted to live there forever.
I'm considering working there for half-a-year after I graduate from Poly, at Egypt or Far Far Away ;)
(By the way, Cylon is awesome!!!)

After Universal Studios (and mad photograph-taking with Fake Charlie Chaplin), we stumbled upon a candy shop just outside the theme park. It's called Candylicious, and oh my, my heaven. For all you sweet-toothed candy lovers out there, this is the place to go.

It's 3 times as huge as Candy Empire and has all the sweets and chocolates you could ever want to eat! Bought a couple of lollipops myself, I have to test for standards, don't I?

;) Still dreaming I'm back at Far Far Away~

Far Far Away

Tiffany's is to Holly Golightly what Far Far Away is to me.
Unfortunately, nobody bothers to take the time to understand that.

Or could I?

Wish I could die on a night like this.

The never ceasing breeze, persistent to help me fly. The night of still clouds stretching infinitely into darkness, all I can hear for miles around is the sound of water caressing the rocks so far below.

Serenity is mine.
What would it take for me to jump?

A welcome of waves with open arms-
slosh, slosh, slosh, a breath underwater;
I am alive.

The Story of Nervous

Haven't written in a while but I stumbled upon some of my past pieces of work, and I found a few I had put together for my Creative Writing subject last semester. You may recognise bits and pieces here and there, but here's a story anyway.

-
"P-p-please s-sir, I-I'd like a strawberry i-i-ice-cr-cream cone."

The seemingly huge man gazed at him from behind the counter. The heat was sweltering that day, and it was important, yes, crucial that he had some ice-cream. With expert movements, the huge man whipped up a crispy wafer cone, fresh from the wafer-maker, and scooped a heavenly mound of strawberry ice-cream into it. The little boy glowed excitedly in wait for his daily treat.

With utmost generosity, the huge man presented the cone to the little boy, his whiskers twitching, "It's on me today, Nervous. Enjoy!" A lovely smile painted itself across the little boy's face. Thanking him, he trudged towards his usual swing, the one at the far end of the playground, and sat down to his tasty trophy.

Nervous now sat outside the cathedral at the square. Every once in a while he reached into his bag and threw out a handful of breadcrumbs to the pigeons. They flocked to him, greedily picking at the golden crumbs with great voracity. The intimidating statue of David stood high above him, casting a shade over the cathedral. More birds crowded into the shade to reap the goodness off the floor.

He sighed, his mime make-up crumpling. The square was rather quiet at this time of the day, everybody was sitting indoors, sipping hot chocolate. Winter had yet to come, but the sky was a shade of steel, and cruel storms were brewing. Nervous shivered in his mime suit, and reached to pull on his thick overcoat. Now cosy and snug in the warmth, Nervous packed up for the day and started walking.

The cottage was at a lone clearing, just outside of town. It was left to him, by whom, he didn't know, but he had no one, no one. A mossy pond wasn't far off, and poor Nervous trudged gloomily towards it. Tiny toadstools looked to him, and whispered anxiously to one another on the approach of the looming giant. A little mushroom asked her mother about him.

Nervous sat alone at the bank, hugging his knees. Why hadn't he come? He'd promised to come watch him, since four years ago. Nervous had been waiting all this time in vain. He looked into the dark mirror of water that reflected a lovely face.

Hadn't Narcissus once knelt at these banks? He'd fallen in love with the boy in the water, adorned with locks of golden hair. Nervous stretched to pluck a flower, and stuck it in his own dark hair. His always seemed untamed; they stood out in stubborn curls, unwilling to flatten, as if crying out to be noticed.

He now began to hum a tune, a tune so slow and mournful. The flowers crowded around him in sheer curiosity as Nervous pulled out the locket around his neck. He flicked it open at a touch, to be greeted by the smile of his lover's face. He had the same dark hair, only the slightest bit wavy, and wore on his head a brown headband. Nervous caressed the worn-out photograph with trembling fingertips.

He'd promised to come, for four years he'd waited for him, day after day, at the square. They had been so happy together, until the authorities found out- they weren't just the friends they claimed to be. That's when it all happened in a rush.

Nervous clung desperately to the steady frame of his lover, but they soon removed him. They questioned them as they would criminals, and they stood in shame, handcuffs around their wrists. They made them promise never to communicate again.

How could he? Surely he had more courage, more common sense to know nothing that did was wrong? Surely love would prevail? And yet, he still hadn't turned up after four years.

A small chuckle escaped from his throat. He wasn't coming, and Nervous knew it. So many months had been wasted waiting for the lover that never came back. Nervous had decided- he would wait no more.

Lying at the bank now, he stared into the water. It was clear, but he still could not see the bottom. How deep was it? He dipped a finger into the water, breaking the mirror-like reflection. A pair of melancholic eyes started back at him, in their depths stood a little boy, licking ice-cream. A boy who stuttered, a boy who sat at the swings alone.

Nervous began to peel off his clothes. First, he kicked off his shoes, then slipped off his socks. He took off everything, one by one, until there was nothing left, save for the silver locket on a chain around his neck. He squatted on the bank, and sunk a leg into the pond. It was freezing, but he barely felt it.

Slowly, he lowered himself into the cold water, oblivious to his surroundings. It was just him and the calm water. The water came up to his shoulders, as he stood on the slippery rocky bottom of the pond. He felt the plants around his ankles, reaching for him, inviting him to their home. Nervous finished his song and went underwater. The water soaked his hair as he lay down at the bottom, and as he opened his eyes towards the sky, he smiled.

The stars were waiting for him.
He took a deep breath.

Wednesday, 6th July 2011

This is it.

I am exactly the same age Dorian Gray was when the madness started.

-
Soft, supple, firm, muscular,
aptly rounded with a touch of sensuality;

Michelangelo really knew his way around The Perfect Ass.

Monday, 4th July 2011

It was a sad day.

I felt so idiotic, so out of control standing in front of the group, trying to lead but overtaken by another who kept playing wrong notes. She did say she's a pianist, didn't she? So I tried to be nice; I let her lead, but still I went around, helping those who needed help most. To be a pianist and not know solfege must be such a burden.

Joanne stepped on my slipper again. Alas, the other side spoiled this time, but I don't blame her at all. It was bound to happen whether anybody had stepped on it or not. Can't wait to have my birthday dinner with her there as well. I hobbled around on one slipper and a bare foot, through carparks, on pavements, on roads, in lifts, until I got home to shower.

Shower, Panadol, Study.
Only reached home at about 9.30pm, so I started studying at around 10 after my shower. It helps that I had something I had to do to take my mind off choir, at least for a while. The test, although ungraded, is tomorrow morning at 9am. How sad is it to have two tests on my birthday, with classes from 9am-9pm?

I went around everywhere and couldn't find the Neckermann sandals that I wanted. Eventually it occurred to me that Neckermann does not have it in red, so I either have to get fakes, or just get Birkenstocks. The idea is just crazy, who would pay so much for a pair of slippers? My wise side says it's rubbish, and the cheap ones are just as comfortable, but the whiny side argues that it's my birthday and I deserve a gift. But, neh, I'll go with my wise side on this one.

Choir used to be so much friendlier. People actually talked to each other, laughed, jammed on the guitar, went out to dinner in a huge group after practice. People laughed during sectionals and made jokes all the time. Now they just sit there stone-faced, like cold marble only with a jaw of flesh and eyes that roll. They sit huddled up in twos or alone, whisper-whispering about things that don't matter.
I wonder.

Felt so terrible after practice, I actually felt glad I had to rush off to study. The darkness and comfort of Dad's car soothed me, and Scrubs lifted my mood a bit. Too bad the loading was so slow, I couldn't watch more than a minute of it. When I got home I wanted to break down and have a good cry, but no, no time for tears. I took a shower and panadol, then went to work.

They talked about a career in music at choir. I guess my voice teacher has been harbouring hopes that I go into music and continue studying under her for life. She's mentioned it several times, but I still can't bring myself to. There's always been such a passion there, so why am I afraid it being killed?

I think I'm secretly scared of all the bitching that goes on in a music career. Doctors and surgeons barely have time to sleep, they're always running from place to place, never bored, never having to ponder over everyday life and its emotions. Doing surgery is about putting aside personal emotions and saving the person in front of you.

Maybe that's why I want it so much.