Mundane Nothings

Ok, where should I even begin! So I've had this planned out since like, practicum. It was one of the plays that instantly spoke to me. When I saw it being listed on SISTIC's website, I was like, "I NEED to watch that." Alas, no one wanted to go. Bluek. So ultimately, I decided to go for it alone only to find out that my sister was also catching the play, with her NIE mates. We were seated separately though. So technically, I was alone. Heh. And I loved it. Seriously. So, I got my green lenses today (allow me to digress for a bit ya) and I could have sworn, green lenses and high heels empowers me! For real, I felt like I could take on the world! Like Sayuri possessed me. Yes, that chick from Memoirs of the Geisha for the uninitiated. Sheesh. Ok, back to the topic at hand. My evening was exceptionally good (I say its the green eyes and heels ). A marginally good looking dude sat beside me on the train. And then there was this hot prawnball at the escalator at Bugis MRT....

I stroked his pallid cheeks as he looked right through me. His eyes were brimming with tears and I could tell he was in so much pain. I wanted to help him but I did not know how. His chapped lips started to twitch. He needed to say something but he did not have the strength to cough out a single word. I held his slender fingers, they were cold and they scared me. I knew I was losing him... And that was when I woke up . I could literally feel the coldness in my hand when I was jolted back to life! Imagine this:Waking up with your vision blurred up and convinced that you are going blind because for that moment you kinda forgot you just had a dream and that your eyes are welling up with tears. So drama, I know. Drama always happens to me. -_- I've had nightmares, sweet dreams (oh yes, with a Maserati in it), happy dreams, prophetic dreams of the future, wishful-thinking sorta dreams (no, no wet dreams), but never a Sad dream. This was the first of its kind. It leaves me unsettled and...

Modern-day educated females leave me baffled and gasping for the right words to lucidly describe their peculiar behaviour. I am obscenely appalled by the latest web of bull-shitty female behaviour I've had to put up with. This coming from the females who are supposedly educated, you know, considering the fact that they are able to reel in a stable income. *rolls eyes* A minor comment on a social networking site on a now former friend's profile actually ticked the other-half off. And now I'm in for an epic onslaught of hate. I got booted off his friend's list and not by him, mind you. A friend off my list doesn't leave a dent on my pride, seriously. It's the very reason or lack of reason behind that act that actually grosses me out. And it also got me thinking, if marriage is about having your spouse annex your privacy, regardless of whether its your tangible space or virtual space, then the very institution of marriage will not work for me. In fact, it disgusts ...

World meet Buttercup. Buttercup meet World.

Hell yeah! 3 weeks! Awesome shit. The only thing thats bugging me is that, why'd they hafta tell us this like so late into the semester. I could have made travel plans man. 3 weeks across Europe! On my own... without my parents consent. Ok, far fetched, but it's worth a dream. Nonetheless, I get 3 weeks of bumming. Hah! I'm gonna savour every damn moment of it. I'm gonna soak myself in utter delirious fun and lose myself in my very own laughter. I'm gonna sit myself at some sidewalk cafe and people watch till my eyes spin. I'm gonna... Yah, you get the drift. Waste my pretty life away, for that gorgeous 3 weeks. YAY! Three cheers for Vinna! Hip Hip Hooray (x3)... Anyways, this is my last week of practicum and I am going to lick it and chew on it and suck on it with relish! With great delight! Lesson plans can kiss my arse... in a bit, I think. So now, let me give you, rather let me give myself (I'm convinced now, that no one reads my blog, which is both sad ...

WHEN WE TWO PARTED by: George Gordon (Lord) Byron (1788-1824) HEN we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this. The dew of the morning Sunk chill on my brow-- It felt like the warning Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame: I hear thy name spoken, And share in its shame. They name thee before me, A knell to mine e...