“Only trust someone who can see these three things in you: The sorrow behind your smile, the love behind your anger, and the reason behind your silence.”

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Because this feels more personal, real, raw and unedited.
Because sometimes, ‘I write as if an eye is upon me, that is fatal.’ (Plath)

So the big As are FINALLY OVER and it actually feels quite unreal now that’s it’s over. Did I really spend hours and hours studying like that? Even the breaks were not guilt-free lolll

Anyway that’s all in the past now! Thank God for spontaneous friends because the best moments in life are unplanned. Had the craziest day after the SEA paper of adventure and fun exploring another part of Singapore, visiting houses (or should I say sneaking up on unsuspecting friends) & ice cream @ half price courtesy of the best junior ever~ Will spare you the details and myself the trouble since I wrote it all down in there ^ but all in all it was a wonderful day heee

Have this little playlist entitled ‘Freedom’ in my iPod and I now blast it wherever I go 😊 Some songs that are in there & my fav lines in every song hahahaha:

1. Here Comes The Sun – The Beatles ‘Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces’

2. After The Storm – Mumford and Sons ‘There will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears and love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears/ Get over your hill and see what you find there, with grace in your heart and flowers in hair’

3. The Great Escape (just because. Hahaha)

4. Once Upon Another Time – Sara Bareilles ‘Just yellow lines and tire marks, sunkissed skin and handle bars/ Where I stood was where I was to be/ No enemies to call my own, no porch light on to pull me home/ Where I was is beautiful, because I was free’
(in love with this entire song actly)

On a sidenote, cannot wait for the people I miss so dearly to be finally liberated. Hang in there friends the end is soooo near & can’t wait to spend quality time with each and every one of you ❤

+ Going to… PACK MY ROOM LATER. Oh if you guys could see the state tht it’s in right now…… Absolutely detest how much of a hoarder I am that’s why I hate packing my room omg I end up throwing almost nothing away most of the time. But I guess this time it’ll be different since I cannot wait for the piles of notes to be outta sight & outta mind WOOHOO :)

Have been spending way too much time out of the house & out of my room lately!! Time check: 11pm haha how screwed is my body clock. Ok gotta start packing my room already hahaha k bye

P.S. Rewatching Heart of Greed and Raymond Lam is just…. *___* perfect in so many ways not to mention he speaks Cantonese…

Past

We have to discard the past
and, as one builds
floor by floor, window by window,
and the building rises,
so do we go on throwing down
first, broken tiles,
then pompous doors,
until out of the past
dust rises
as if to crash
against the floor,
smoke rises
as if to catch fire,
and each new day
it gleams
like an empty
plate.
There is nothing, there is always nothing.
It has to be filled
with a new, fruitful
space,
then downward
tumbles yesterday
as in a well
falls yesterday’s water,
into the cistern
of all still without voice or fire.
It is difficult to teach bones
to disappear,
to teach eyes
to close
but
we do it
unrealizing.
It was all alive,
alive, alive, alive
like a scarlet fish
but time
passed over its dark cloth
and the flash of the fish
drowned and disappeared.
Water water water
the past goes on falling
still a tangle
of bones
and of roots;
it has been, it has been, and now
memories mean nothing.
Now the heavy eyelid
covers the light of the eye
and what was once living
now no longer lives;
what we were, we are not.
And with words, although the letters
still have transparency and sound,
they change, and the mouth changes;
the same mouth is now another mouth;
they change, lips, skin, circulation;
another being has occupied our skeleton;
what once was in us now is not.
It has gone, but if the call, we reply;
“I am here,” knowing we are not,
that what once was, was and is lost,
is lost in the past, and now will not return.

Pablo Neruda

The thing about poems, or any other literature – is that you see something new every time you read it. Like this poem I just read online which is really relatable don’t you think? About moving on, about starting anew not only with each day or year but with the passing of each moment that you will never be able to get back. Am sure there’s more I’m missing.

That’s why I hate doing unseen in an hour. Worst part is when I obviously can’t see anything & I’m being forced to squeeze out some crappy point just for the sake of the essay. Having said that I don’t regret taking Lit of course. It will always remain my favourite subject that taught me things that stupid subjects like Econs will never be able to teach me. (HAHA you can see how incredibly biased I am.. & there’s both lit and econs tomorrow oops) A pity that tomorrow’ll be my last lit paper, going to try to have fun with the 3 essays and to hand in a piece of work that I am proud of.

Oh god what am I doing a day before my double paper. Probably had a total of 2 productive hours for the entire day today.

All in all, I must remember:
You are good when there’s nothing good in me,
You are peace when my fear is crippling,
You are true even in my wandering.

Goodnight & God bless

:)

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Filling up the planner on my wall with the plans that I’ve been making with the lovely friends :)
Gives me great pleasure to cross out a box with every passing day. It’s been exactly a week now!

Going to post more photos on here from now on, even though there’s not much going on in my life right now haha. The only human interaction I get nowadays is with my family hahaha I feel most like myself around them anyway. Who else would be willing to listen to me whine about the tragic ending of the HK drama tht I’ve been addicted to lately? Or tolerate my horrible singing and unpredictable eating habits and so much more haha love themmmm. Speaking of which brother’s birthday is coming and I have absolutely no idea what to get him oh dear. Probably going to go shopping tomorrow to look for something.

P.S. December never felt further away :(

Twelve

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#life #yucks #nomoreeconsaftertendays #woohoo

I think I’ve lost my momentum after IH ended…….

P.S. Love Taylor Swift’s new album :-)

The Efficiency and Perfection of the Lost

“Yet you still value the things you’ve lost the most. Because the things you’ve lost are still perfect in your head. They never rusted. They never broke. They are made of the memories you once had, which only grow rosier and brighter, day by day. They are made of the dreams of how wonderful things could have been and must never suffer the indignity of actually still existing. Of being real. Of having flaws. Of breaking and deteriorating.

Only the things you no longer have will always be perfect.”

(Iain Thomas – I Wrote This For You)

Eighteen

Tomorrow marks the beginning of my 18-day battle.

Thankful for:
1. Family who always has my back at the end of the day – tolerating my insensitivity and my mood swings at home, dad offering to send me to school so i can get
more rest, brother always trying his best to advise me, mummy providing the best emotional support in every possible way. Aunt popped by for dinner and prayed for me earlier on :’) also let me try the best apple strudel i have ever eaten haha unfortunately it’s from Australia.

2. Seniors who rmb to text us words of encouragement, srsly miss them so much

3. Friends who have been sending inspirational quotes and lovely well wishes. We’re all in this together (can’t say this without thinking of hsm wth hahaha)

4. God for everything mentioned above, and for being here to see me through the toughest period of my life.

Marching on. :)

“These feelings of deprivation may not look so peculiar, however, once we consider the psychology behind the way we decide what is enough. Our sense of an appropriate limit to anything – for example, to wealth and esteem – is never decided independently. It is decided by comparing our condition with that of a reference group, with that of people we consider to be our equals. We cannot appreciate what we have in isolation, nor judged against the lives of our medieval forbearers. We cannot be impressed by how prosperous we are in historical terms. We will only take ourselves to be fortunate when we have as much as, or more than, the people we grow up with, work alongside, have as friends and identify with in the public realm.

If we are made to live in a draughty, insalubrious cottage and bend to the harsh rule of an aristocrat in command of a large and well-heated castle, and yet we observe that all our equals live as we do, then our condition will seem normal; regrettable, certainly, but not fertile ground for a sense of envy. If we have a pleasant home and comfortable job, however, but learn through ill-advised attendance at a school reunion that some of our old friends (there is no stronger reference group) are now living in houses larger than our own, bought on the proceeds of more enticing occupations, we are likely to return home nursing a violent sense of misfortune.

It is the feeling that we might be something other than what we are – a feeling transmitted by the superior achievements of those we take to be our equals – that generates anxiety and resentment.

 Alain de Botton 

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