Before I engage in The Adventures of starm|st and mangO in the Day-Time, here’s a little sidetrack of The Curious Incidents of starm|st and mangO in the Night-Time in Osaka, our last stop for the Japan trip.
Sister and I stayed in a dorm room [with two other people] at Shin-Osaka Youth Hostel on our first night in Osaka. Needless to say, we came out of it scarred for life.
Been feeling moody and restless lately [at most times anyway].
So I want some wings to fly and soar, yet invisible strings of the blood pull me back, coldly, chillingly; choking and crippling me, again and again this cycle repeats and I am tired of it, pray tell me will you let me breathe on my own?
So I want world enough and time, but time moves of its own accord, not waiting, not hesitating for anyone anything, the world spins, not of wanting, not of any care, so leaving people like me standing still in the whirlwind of movements.
So I want to shed the layers til I can find my core again, and upon seeing a notice for a possibility to work towards that but of limited time to apply, I called them instead but was cut down on the spot [and the next will be two years later], not intentionally cruelly but still cruel to my ever-seeking mind.
So I want to mean something more, like maybe a significant piece of the heart, or a mite of the soul, maybe a slice of the laughter, a touch in the important bits of life; but it is not so, not time yet perhaps, and I know things should not be rushed for now, so here I hide in the shadows. Again, everytime.
*kesian*
I need a holiday.
So.
I’m going on a holiday.
Tomorrow.
Bye.
|
You Should Play the Piano |
 You are a true music aficionado who loves many musical style and eras. You find music to be an escape. And you’d like to be relaxed and comfortable when you’re making it. You’re very innovative, and you have a unique way of knowing what may sound beautiful. While you have a lot of creative energy, you are also serious and conscientious. Your dominant personality characteristic: your painstaking attention to detail Your secondary personality characteristic: your natural tendency to be whimsical |
for all the things that I did wrong,
against all the good that I have done,
do they balance out?
or is it not enough, never enough
to redeem myself?
it’s in the little things.
it’s the little things.. that makes me smile. the little kisses planted on my forehead, whenever. anecodes about his friends and hilarious things that they do. when he said i want to learn about the things you dislike, not just the things you like. how his grip never loosen from my fingers even though he was fast asleep [and thus i couldn’t turn on other side when i’d wanted to]. oh-so-heartmelting.
it’s the little things.. that catches me off-balanced. spontaneous grocery and sangria shopping at holland v late at night. the camaraderie and dynamics of the house; 7 people [including me] around doing their own things, yet never leaving anyone totally out. her asking me to join the group for her wedding in december even though that was only the second time she met me. them inviting me up and offering chocolate milkshake with baileys and dragonfruit vodka [uh huh uh huh] at random timings. oh-so-naturally.
it’s the little things.. that ping my heart. when he looked into my eyes and said you’re still you it doesn’t change anything after i told him my ’secret’. coffee in the morning, and homecooked dinner in the evening. the but i like your hair even though it was wildly mused up and all sadako-ish. calling and talking to me until i was safely home even though he was that close to falling asleep. oh-so-sweet.
it’s in the little things.
/sappy
it doesn’t have to be anything. it can just be the sound of your laughter, thrown in the air; natural and unsuppressed, the way your eyes crinkle up with joy, how you place your head against your arm on the table, shoulders shaking uncontrollably with mirth when something tickles your funny bone.
it doesn’t have to be anything. it can just be the quickness in which you play along and rebut my exaggerated sarcastic statements with yours, or how you attempt to speak in the language which you were not taught [not too badly, if i might say], the helpless S.O.S signals you sent me when Miss Host rattled on in the foreign language, oblivious to our.. deficiency in it. it can also be hearing your gentle calming voice over the line, and the smile that comes along with it.
it doesn’t have to be anything. it can just be the way you look from across the table, or how you busy yourself with your mobile; fingers flying nimbly across the screen. it can be you cooking our dinner at home; concentrating hard on the task at hand, head bent, eyes on the frying pan, or you making coffee for us in the morning.
it doesn’t have to be anything. it can just be how you let me meet the group[s] and were unafraid of showing affection; you do not hide and keep me in the shadows [to a certain extent i guess]. it can be the way you hum and sing in my presence, or how your eyes pierce mine when we dance, or the little actions you do almost unconsciously. it can be you being serious and sharing when i really need you to; it calms my paper-mache core, or you apologising to me for the lack-of-flower-giving when you noticed a bouquet on a table near us, or you chasing me halfway up the stairs to send me to my doorstep.
it doesnt have to be anything…
So much of what we live goes on inside -
The diaries of grief, the tongue-tied aches
Of unacknowledged love are no less real
For having passes unsaid. What we conceal
Is always more than what we dare confide.
Think of the letters that we write our de*d.- Dana Gioia
Haven’t I been here before? The inadequacies, the comparisons, the green-eyed monster the heart stirs, the wondering, the uncertainties, the questions, the thoughts the mind churns out, the past I can never twist, the future I cannot know, the way reality works which I still do not know how to reconcile.
Round and round and now I return to this familiar place.
I am afraid, of what lies ahead due to the past, so tell me how do I —
My first plug for a sweet friend!
Pretty babe, right? 
I feel so too.
Sheylara is 1 of the 8 finalists in the Most Entertaining Blog category of the Omy Singapore Blog Awards! Congratulations [ok, a tad premature at the moment]!
Qy’s writings have always been interesting and engaging [her blog’s on my daily reads list], how apt it is for her to be nominated for this category! 
Do help her win this award by doing the following:
1) Click here to vote [easy peasy]
2) Click on the “Vote Now” button [also easy peasy]
3) Enter your email and choose a password
4) Fill in the rest of your details such as your age vital stats marital status whether you brush your teeth every day and how many strands of hair you drop per month and click on her picture to vote
This is her on the bottom right hand corner. Please vote for her [and don’t get distracted by the others], else The Goonfather will come after you with a parang.
Do this once a day to help increase her votes!
There is a first time for everything.
In all of 5 hours yesterday, I
Guess why?
Because I took… *drum roll*… painkillers.
Yes, anti-climatic, I know.
The painkillers were prescribed by a doctor for a pain which has been recurring for the past month. 2 pills and 4 hours later, I felt like I was on drugs [not medicine-drug but like, cannabis-marijuana-drug (not that I’ve taken any before)], or reallyreallyreally high on alcohol. Of course, it didn’t occur to me to make that link [drugs and drinks] til Eliot pointed it out with You sound so stoned and I think you’re very high and then repeated them every few minutes to drive into my head that I was insane not of sound mind not behaving very normally.
What kinda painkillers are these, d*mmit?!
And the reason for this entry to be under ‘about funnies’ is because, thinking back, the 5 hours have really been quite comical [’cept for the blacking out part]. Or maybe my sense of humour is dark and morbid.
Or maybe I’m still insane. *giggle giggle*
Still feel like throwing up here hello.