I walked down the staircase, not wanting to wait for the lift.
I then kept walking. I just didn't want to stop.
And I can't stop pondering.
How could I not know about it until Saturday?
Why would I still go for sister's convocation knowing that I was running out of time?
What I have done in the previous weeks?
I thought I was studying?
Why would things turn out to be this way?
Why couldn't I remember what I've studied just 1 day ago?
How could this happen to me?
What do I want actually?
Why do I want to fly actually?[Not for dream, of course.]
Why do I study so hard?
Whom can I talk to?
Talk? What do I want to talk about?
"How come nobody tells me?" NO.
Pathetically, I blame myself for what happened.
If only I have spent more time studying...
But then, would it make any differences? A little bit, I suppose.
No, I can't find the right word to convey what is in my mind.
It's all my own fault.MY FAULT!
I had just handed in my last Econ topic test.
Don't remind me of the speech. It's worse.
I walked back home today.
I didn't feel tired.
It's the heart which feels exhausted ,
yet, holding its last breathe,
whispered to my ears:
"Don't give up. Not Yet."
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Twenty-nine
"Thanks a lot!"
"Thank you very much!"
"Thank you, I love you!"
"Thanks ya!"
Thank you!
Enlighten me.
How to tell that phrase
in such a way which shows
how I feel for them?
Dai Ga Jie, Hooi Ying, Ainin and Chia Venn.
Although it turned out to be a mess in the end, I thank you for what you've done for me. I really do. There's no way to tell. And often I wonder, why I am always the least helpful ones? As if I'm only good in washing the bathroom or sweeping the floor and then nothing else.
"Thank you very much!"
"Thank you, I love you!"
"Thanks ya!"
Thank you!
Enlighten me.
How to tell that phrase
in such a way which shows
how I feel for them?
Dai Ga Jie, Hooi Ying, Ainin and Chia Venn.
Although it turned out to be a mess in the end, I thank you for what you've done for me. I really do. There's no way to tell. And often I wonder, why I am always the least helpful ones? As if I'm only good in washing the bathroom or sweeping the floor and then nothing else.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Twenty-eight
I dislike somebody. I never told.
Nor would I tell, or try to imply.
I hate hypocrite, loathe that person
as if whatever this person does
I can't help but to dislike it.
I tried and try and I'm still trying
to be neutral towards this person.
"How could you do this to me?", I used to ask. Being indifferent and ignorant, your choice to deal with our problem. I guess I must have owed you in my previous life, if there's any. And now I'm servicing the debts. Day by day, I believe that it's about to be done, as my hatred and disgust for you is ceasing. And one thing I can't deny, I bad-mouthed you behind my 'OK-looking'. Let's say I'm bad. I dare say you are no good either.
I like somebody. I never told.
Nor would I tell, but I did imply.
I am the hypocrite
for treating him ice-cold
despite the desire deep down
which is eager to see him
everyday that's what I do.
I tried and try and I stop trying
because I do not have the gut
I just don't have the gut
to tell you I hate you
and to tell you I like you.
Once in a while, I want to write this blog, the way I used to write. The way I want to write.
Nor would I tell, or try to imply.
I hate hypocrite, loathe that person
as if whatever this person does
I can't help but to dislike it.
I tried and try and I'm still trying
to be neutral towards this person.
"How could you do this to me?", I used to ask. Being indifferent and ignorant, your choice to deal with our problem. I guess I must have owed you in my previous life, if there's any. And now I'm servicing the debts. Day by day, I believe that it's about to be done, as my hatred and disgust for you is ceasing. And one thing I can't deny, I bad-mouthed you behind my 'OK-looking'. Let's say I'm bad. I dare say you are no good either.
I like somebody. I never told.
Nor would I tell, but I did imply.
I am the hypocrite
for treating him ice-cold
despite the desire deep down
which is eager to see him
everyday that's what I do.
I tried and try and I stop trying
because I do not have the gut
I just don't have the gut
to tell you I hate you
and to tell you I like you.
Once in a while, I want to write this blog, the way I used to write. The way I want to write.
Twenty-seven
She banged the door behind me. Half-consciously, I asked in a playful tone "Hey, why so angry?" I heard no voice after I finished my sentence. I turned back. She threw her bag on the floor. "Bang!!!!!" again, she closed the bathroom door.
That night, she wept, convulsively, and the emotional outburst was so clear that I could hear her pain. It was all about WORDS. Words could, often, if not always, cause much hurt than knife could do.. Baffled, I blurted out her name, wanted to console her...NO. Wanted to tell her that, it's all right to cry out loud. Just let them out.
Sorry.
It's never easy to say sorry, when you really mean it.
SORRY is a powerful word. The far-reaching implications which the word brings shall not be disparaged, as it can actually tame the burning flame and soothe the shattered soul. Unfortunately, with brutal honest, it has been violated and abused by some of the very brilliant creatures in this world who are overly self-centered or overprotective, if you would want to hear it in a more polite manner. Probably, they have higher analytic skill that, "I, myself, and me come first before everything on the earth" is the awfully noble mindset that they hold, so that they survive, in this cruel and unpredictable and 'no-one-should-be-trusted' life.
No wonder the world has become how it is today.
If everyone were to embrace that very noble and outstanding mentality to live their lives, what's left here in our lives?
Crying is a cathartic doing.
What should I do when people cry, I seriously wonder.
I smile, usually, because I don't know what else on earth can I do.
To console them? Or to let them be?
How I wished I could be like Edward Cullen,
to be able to read people's minds...
I'll be there for her, just like how she does.
That night, she wept, convulsively, and the emotional outburst was so clear that I could hear her pain. It was all about WORDS. Words could, often, if not always, cause much hurt than knife could do.. Baffled, I blurted out her name, wanted to console her...NO. Wanted to tell her that, it's all right to cry out loud. Just let them out.
Sorry.
It's never easy to say sorry, when you really mean it.
SORRY is a powerful word. The far-reaching implications which the word brings shall not be disparaged, as it can actually tame the burning flame and soothe the shattered soul. Unfortunately, with brutal honest, it has been violated and abused by some of the very brilliant creatures in this world who are overly self-centered or overprotective, if you would want to hear it in a more polite manner. Probably, they have higher analytic skill that, "I, myself, and me come first before everything on the earth" is the awfully noble mindset that they hold, so that they survive, in this cruel and unpredictable and 'no-one-should-be-trusted' life.
No wonder the world has become how it is today.
If everyone were to embrace that very noble and outstanding mentality to live their lives, what's left here in our lives?
Crying is a cathartic doing.
What should I do when people cry, I seriously wonder.
I smile, usually, because I don't know what else on earth can I do.
To console them? Or to let them be?
How I wished I could be like Edward Cullen,
to be able to read people's minds...
I'll be there for her, just like how she does.
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